My Dad Chose His Mistress Over My Mom’s Funeral And That Night Changed Everything

Blood drained from my face as I opened the message.

“I’m not dead. Come to the cemetery now.”

For a long moment I just stared at the screen, my mind scrambling for logic. A wrong number maybe, some twisted prank, but my body had already made the choice.

I threw on my coat, grabbed my keys, and bolted into the storm. The rain struck harder now, sharp and deliberate.

My wipers struggled against the torrent as I sped toward the cemetery, headlights slicing through the sheets of water. Every instinct screamed to turn around.

Yet my mother’s words echoed in my head.

“Trust your heart, Grace. Even when your mind is afraid.”

When I reached the gates, the place was swallowed in fog. The lamps flickered weakly, shadows stretching over the gravestones.

I parked, stepped into the wind, and called out.

“Mom!”

My voice shook. Only the sound of rain answered until I noticed movement by the willow trees.

A small hunched figure in a soaked coat.

“Mom,”

I whispered again, raising my trembling flashlight. The beam found her face, pale, fragile, but unmistakably alive.

Her hazel eyes shimmered with tears.

“Grace,”

she breathed. My mind splintered into chaos.

The flashlight slipped from my grasp, thudding softly into the mud. I stumbled forward, pulse roaring in my ears, unable to believe what I was seeing.

“Mom, how? How are you alive?”

She reached for me, her hands icy but solid.

“It’s me, sweetheart,”

she whispered, her voice trembling.

“But you mustn’t tell anyone I’m alive.”

Rain lashed down harder, blurring everything until life and death seemed to merge into one. I couldn’t stop staring.

Her face was pale, almost translucent, hair plastered to her skin. Yet her eyes, those familiar hazel eyes, shone with unmistakable life.

“Mom,”

I choked out.

“Everyone saw you. I saw you. You were gone.”

She pulled me into her arms, trembling. For a moment everything vanished: the storm, the grave, the fear.

All that existed was the faint rhythm of her heart against mine. Then she leaned close.

“Grace, we can’t stay here. Someone might see us.”

We rushed through the rain to a small silver sedan hidden beneath the trees. I climbed inside, shivering.

“Mom, please, what’s happening?”

She didn’t answer at once. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned ghost white.

Finally she whispered.