— How could you, my son?! — I cried, pounding my fists against his chest. — I raised you, fed you, stayed up nights for you, and you… you destroyed my house, my life!
He stood silently, eyes lowered. I couldn’t stop — the words poured out between tears and pain.
— You threw me out on the street! Do you want me to die under a fence?! What did I ever do to you, my children?..
But suddenly, he lifted his head, stepped closer, and said softly:
— Mom… please, calm down. You’ve got it all wrong.
I was stunned.
— What do you mean, wrong? I saw it with my own eyes! The house is gone!
— Yes, — he nodded, — the old house is gone… because it had become dangerous. We thought for a long time about how to tell you, but we knew you’d never agree. So we decided to do it quickly.
He reached out his hand and pointed behind him. Behind the excavator, among the piles of bricks and dust, I saw something unexpected: a new, beautiful brick house — bright walls, a red roof, new windows.
— This is our home now, Mom, — he said, smiling through his tears. — We built it right here, on the same land. Everything inside is ready — furniture, kitchen, flowers on the windowsill. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier… We wanted to surprise you.
I stood frozen. My heart was racing, and tears still rolled down my cheeks — but now they were different: warm, soft, filled with love and gratitude.