“Why do you feel the need to treat me this way?” I asked, my voice steady but firm. “All I’ve ever wanted was for us to have a good relationship, but your actions make it clear that you see me as an intruder in your son’s life.”

She looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. I had never directly confronted her before. The reality of the situation seemed to dawn on her, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimpse of regret in her eyes. But she quickly masked it with her usual stern demeanor.

“You need to understand,” she replied, her voice losing some of its edge, “I only want the best for my son. I have high standards, and sometimes I feel like you’re not meeting them.”