Eren's Mom Novels & Stories

Mom had only a few things left that mattered to her in this world—Dad, me, and her work as a doctor, saving lives. Denise had already taken Dad from her, taken me from her. And now, she wanted to strip away the last shred of hope Mom had. What a wicked woman! The realization crashed into me, and the fury that surged through my soul was like a tidal wave. I couldn't hold it back any longer. I lunged at Denise, wild with rage, clawing at her face, shoving her with all the strength I had left. "You wicked woman! Stay away from my mom! I won't let you hurt her!" I screamed.

Apparently, in my child's eyes, that was utterly humiliating. Caden's arms tightened around me. He turned, his gaze ice-cold. "Felix, your mother gets up before dawn every single day to make you breakfast. After you go to bed at night, she's still cleaning the house. "She doesn't have time to dress up because she spends all her time on you. Do you think the things you just said are fair to her?" "I don't care!" Felix shouted. "I just want a pretty mom! Ms. Sulvan would be perfect!"

Maybe she can offer some guidance or advice. As we sit there in silence, I realize that I need to take a step back and assess the situation. I need to think about what I want to do next, and how I can move forward. But for now, I'm just grateful to have Mom's support. Mom's expression changes, and she looks at me with a mix of panic and determination. "Eren, listen to me," she says, her voice firm but urgent. "You need to get that woman out of your head. She's toxic, and she's not worth your time or energy."

"Then mother also forgives Alaric?" Kevin frowned when he heard Alaric's name called by Eren. "That kid getting into trouble again? What did he do to you honey?" "Ah it's okay Kevin. Eren mom never got mad at you or Alaric, mom just misunderstood this situation. So it's okay." "Then I'll be back, ma'am. I think you really miss dad." Eren walked away leaving his parents who had not seen each other for ten years.

He took his seat at the table, leaning back with a grin that was far too wide. My father leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in years. “So, Eren, now that you have been fed, tell us. How is that colorful love life of yours? Have you finally met someone who can tolerate you for more than a week?” Eren bristled, snatching a piece of bread. “I do not have a messed-up love life like yours, thank you very much! But you would not believe the woman I saw today. She was like an actual vision. An angel in a navy skirt.”

Long brown hair, ocean blue eyes, red rosy lips. "Hallo... How can I help you?" She observes me, scanning me keenly from head to toe. "I am here for my son, Renny!" She is Renny's mom? Fuck! She looks like she just finished high-school the other day. She is young and very beautiful. "Eric did not tell me you were coming to pick him up." She smiles sweetly. "He told me to tell you it is okay. I will be staying with him today." Well, it is fine.

Shutting her up. "Why?" Draken said calmly looking at Eren who has red-shot eyes. "Because she's my mother," Eren said in a broken voice.

"But he shouldn't have had to." Mom closed her eyes, and for several long seconds, nobody spoke and then she slowly exhaled. Carefully, as if she was trying to carry a weight she'd been holding for years. "You sound like your uncle." My head jerked upward. "What?" "Eros's father." The room grew even quieter. Mom's gaze drifted somewhere far away. "He used to say the same thing." Something inside my chest twisted. "What happened to him?" Pain flickered across Mom's face. It was real and raw pain. The kind that never fully leaves.b"He died protecting the realm."

Just the same bolded subject line staring back at me. A firm knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts, sharp and insistent. “Come in,” I said flatly, my voice already edged with exhaustion and resentment. I didn’t bother getting up or fixing my messy bedhead. Mom stepped inside, her expression more determined this time, jaw set in a way that made my stomach drop. She didn’t sit on the bed like she usually would during our talks. No attempt at softening the blow with a hug or a hand on my shoulder. She stood near the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest, like she was steeling herself for battle.