What she didn’t know was that I’d recorded her—and had the café’s speakers play it for everyone to hear.

The room went silent. John was stunned. He walked out.

A week later, he invited me to his restaurant. This time, he’d reserved the best table. “You were right,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

I smiled. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

I wasn’t just his mother—I was the quiet strength behind everything he’d become.