Mother Novels Novels & Stories

In that estate, no one remembers Mommy anymore. She is like a raindrop soaked into the mud, with not a trace of her left. The maids, the cooks, the drivers, they forgot the old lady of the house long ago, and they all revolve around Benita now. Daddy kept Mommy’s room the way I asked. But it is only a specimen, with no life in it. Every time I see Benita strutting through the estate, my heart starts to ache. By what right? By what right does she get to have everything that should have been Mommy’s?

Everything became times worse though when her father was no longer there to act as a shield. Mrs. Moyo tries for another slap which Anna dodges by side-stepping to the right. When she tells people about how bad things are at home, they go into their usual ‘defend mothers’ mode. They theorize that there has to be something wrong with the way that Anna behaves otherwise Anna’s mother would treat her differently. Traditionally, mothers are saints and love their children and would do anything for them. If a mother acts out it has to be because there is something wrong with the child. It’s maternal instinct. No one ever considers that parents choose to have children, while children are brought in

But Rosie is my happiness mum. Mad. Flora turned to face his son. Mad. Flora : I know son, but I want to see you with your kids. I want to grow old with all my grandchildren around. Clifford : I know mum. Clifford and his mum kept talking for a while convincing her and trying to cheer her up . Meanwhile, Nicole was also in one of the rooms in the Hollands' mansion. She felt uncomfortable for a while and decided to come downstairs to take some fresh air. As she got to the living room, she heard Clifford and his mum talking so she decided to eavesdrop. She sneaked behind the door and listened to their conversion.

“Will Grecia become suspicious if she sees us leaving together?” “Mom left early in the morning for a ladies' day. She has friends her age, and they get together every weekend for a charity and business they run together under the moniker "The Mothers." He explained with a casual expression and left, but it made me appreciate that wonderful woman even more.

Cause now I feel I have a live snake in my tummy and not worms. I remeber when she made me drink a whole jar of milk cause of an ulcer attack and then made me work out the fat. I smile as memories of my mother flood my mind. I wonder what she's going through now. Who would go with her on her morning runs? Argue with her over giving more love to her flowers than her kids? Hide her bag when she's rushing to work and blackmail money out of her? Stick with her in the kitchen just to steal the first bite of her occasional hot Saturday cookies? Swap her shampoo with dye to give her that funck look she needs to attend that Halloween part she refused to attend but now has to go as she's been given t

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t

Her words faltered as her sharp eyes darted over my shoulder. Her demeanor changed in an instant, transforming into a picture of grace. “Mrs. Laura Hemsworth,” she said smoothly, her voice dripping with false warmth. “How lovely to see you here…” I turned and saw my mother. Five or six bodyguards trailed her like loyal shadows. Her ageless beauty was almost otherworldly, as though the moon itself had favored her. Standing beside Luna Sonia, my mum's presence made her seem as if she belonged to another era entirely.

Vivian's stunt bought her an acces to the mansion; my mother-in-law said that she was only concerned about the baby when the truth was known, and what makes her think that Luciano Is the father of that child? "Sophia, I know what I am doing" She clarified the moment I tried to make her see reasons not to have allowed Vivan to live In the mansion.. "Really! What makes you so sure that she's actually Pregnant for your son?". I asked her a Very sensitive question.. One I thought that she wouldn't be able to answer but it turned out differently; she replied; " Because, I am a mother". And then left me alone In her bedroom.. There's a difference between being a mother and actually knowing when to

Mary’s slightly accusatory voice came from outside. Hearing her tone, I looked at the door with pure disdain. I didn’t care that she was my mother-in-law anymore. "Mom, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but some things just need to be said. Heaven’s watching. You’re old enough to know better—why are you still messing around with that Black man?" Her face turned pale and then flushed red. Under my stare, she stammered, "Veronica, are you sure you’re not misunderstanding something?"

My chest tightened slightly when my gaze shifted to my mother. My mother, once the Widow Von Schiller but now known as Mrs. Rosamia Soler, retained an ageless allure at forty-five. Initially, I wondered if my perception was biased, given my admiration as a daughter. Yet, it was a sentiment echoed by many who have encountered her. She seemed impervious to the passage of time. Over the years, I had observed how male guests would be ensnared by her presence whenever she entered a room. Despite her diminutive stature, there was an aura of authority about her that transcended her physical stature. It wasn't just elegance; even those accustomed to coarseness found themselves silenced in the face o