My Mother Chose Her Boyfriend Over Me — Years Later, She Came Looking for Me
I was five when my mother left me at Aunt Carol’s for what she called “a short vacation.” I remember that day vividly—the kiss on my forehead, the scent of her perfume, and her promise to come back soon. “Just a week or two, sweetheart,” she said, brushing my hair back. I nodded, unaware that…