My mother is now 56 years old. A simple woman, content with her life — with a loving husband and children who bring her joy. But behind this circle of happiness, there is someone still trapped in the past. A man named Adi. My mother’s former lover, who to this very day cannot let her go.
Back in her youth, my mother and Adi were in a relationship. She was living at her sister’s house, not far from Adi’s campus in Bandung, where he studied engineering. In those days, communication was not easy — just letters or occasional visits.
Then suddenly, Adi vanished. No letters, no messages, no visits. Perhaps he went home, perhaps there were family issues, nobody knew. My mother, left with no explanation, finally assumed it was over.
That was when my father stepped in.
A modest man who had long admired her. Without hesitation, he asked my mother’s sister for permission to marry her. At first, my mother did not love him. But his sincerity melted her heart. They married, and slowly, love blossomed.
But soon after the wedding, Adi returned.
He was stunned to find my mother already married. So many questions remained unanswered, yet everything had already happened. And so the wound began: Adi felt betrayed.
From then on, his life changed.
He abandoned his studies, returned to his hometown, and carried the weight of unanswered questions and unhealed feelings. Years passed; he married and had a family, but deep inside, he never truly let go of my mother.
Years later, when I was in high school, something unusual happened.
I received a letter — a real letter, not a text. To my surprise, it was from Adi. In it, he confessed that he still loved my mother after all those years.
I was shocked. How could a married man, with his own family, still hold on to such feelings?
But the surprises didn’t end there. One day, Adi came to our house. Not alone — he brought his wife along, under the pretense of a simple visit. My father welcomed them kindly, as if nothing was strange. Yet I could read it in his wife’s eyes: she already knew her husband’s heart was still bound to the past.
Not long after, news broke: Adi had divorced.
His marriage couldn’t withstand the weight of a love that belonged to someone else.
And that was when the real troubles began.
Adi started reaching out to my mother on WhatsApp, on Facebook, even creating new accounts to get past her blocks. He wrote publicly that his life was ruined because she had married someone else. He commented on her children’s posts, claiming we were like his own kids. Once, he even dared to say: “If you truly loved me, you should be a widow now. Because my life was destroyed the moment you left.”
My mother faced it all with strength.
She never looked back, because her happiness was right here: with my father and with us, her children. But Adi’s story left us with a hard truth.
That an unfinished love can turn into a prison.
And that when choosing a life partner, one must be sure — absolutely sure — that the past has been settled.
Because marriage is not only about uniting two hearts, but also about letting go of old shadows that could haunt forever.
Photo by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash
