Mom and Lincoln Novel Mom’s Whisper Led My Father and Fiancé to Death

On my dads birthday, as he stood before the cake, eyes closed, making a wish, my mom leaned in and whispered something into his ear.
A man who had always cherished his life, my dad flinched at her words, then, without hesitation, stepped off the building and plunged to his death.
After his passing, the world was desperate for answers. Dozens asked my mom what she had told him in that final moment. Some even offered a million dollars to buy that one sentence from her lips. But she never spoke a word.
Not until my wedding day.
That was when she arrived, walked up to my fianc, leaned in close, and whispered the same words into his ear.
1
After my dads death, my mom became infamous.
A man who feared death more than anything had leaped to his end without hesitation. There could be only one explanation: whatever my mom had whispered in his ear had driven him to it.
The world wanted answers. Strangers knocked on our door, desperate to know what she had said. Even a wealthy woman, trapped in a miserable marriage, offered a million dollars just to buy that deadly sentence.
But my mom never uttered a word.
Not even under police interrogation.
In the end, she was sentenced to three years in prison for inciting others to commit suicide.
After handling my dads funeral, I went to see her, needing answers, needing to understand.
Mom, what exactly did you say to Dad? Why did he do it?
Separated by a glass window, my moms expression remained impassive.
He didnt want to live anymore. What does that have to do with me?
Her indifference sent a chill through me. My heart ached as I swallowed down the bitterness rising in my throat.
Dad would panic over the smallest cut. He would rush to the hospital over a scratch, terrified it might get infected.
Every year, on his birthday, his wish was always the sameto live a long life, to see me get married, to meet his grandkids.
Tell me, Mom, why would a man like that suddenly take his own life?
Grief clawed at my chest, suffocating me.
My dad had always been kind. His relationship with my mom had been nothing but peaceful.
So why? Why had she whispered something that pushed him over the edge?
What had she said?
My mom met my questioning gaze with a deep, unreadable look before replying coldly, "Dont ask. Knowing too much wont do you any good."


With those final words, my mom ended the visitation.
I left the prison, my heart heavy with unanswered questions.
When I returned home, silence greeted me like an unwelcome guest. The house that had once been filled with laughter and warmth now felt hollow, its only remnant of my dad, a black-and-white memorial photo staring back at me.
A sharp pain twisted in my chest, and my confusion only deepened.
Desperate for answers, I stepped into my parents bedroom, hoping to find something, anything, that could explain what had happened.
Inside the wardrobe, their clothes remained neatly folded, untouched by time.
My dad had only ever worn white because my mom once said he looked best in it.
A whole drawer glittered with gold jewelry because my mom loved gold, and he had always indulged her.
His bedside table was stocked with medicine because my mom had poor health, and he never wanted her to suffer.
Everywhere I looked, traces of love surrounded me.
This wasnt a home filled with resentment or misery.
It was a home built on devotion.
So why? Why had my mom been the one to destroy it?
I needed answers, but after that day, my mom refused to see me again. No matter how many times I reached out, she remained cold and unyielding.
Her indifference crushed the last of my hopes.
With nothing left for me in that sorrowful house, I packed my things and left.
I moved in with my longtime boyfriend, Lincoln Adamson.
During my darkest days, he never left my side. He was gentle and patient, offering quiet strength when I felt like falling apart.
In a world that had turned its back on me, he was the only warmth I had left.
Three years passed, and we finally set our wedding date.
On the eve of the ceremony, Lincoln hesitated before speaking, his voice cautious.
Sasha, your mom is out of prison now. This is one of the most important moments of your life, are you really not going to invite her? Do you still hate her?
I stilled for a moment, his question weighing on me. Then, with quiet resolve, I answered, I just dont understand. My dad was a good man, so why did my mom have to hurt him?
Lincoln didnt hesitate.
What if it was just a misunderstanding? he said gently. Can a single sentence really push someone to take their own life?
He squeezed my hand, his warmth steady and reassuring.
Maybe your dads death broke her more than she could admit. Maybe she couldnt bear to talk about it.
His gaze held mine; his voice was soft yet firm.
No matter what, shes still your mom. This is your wedding; its a once-in-a-lifetime moment. You should at least let her know.
If she finds out her only daughter got married without her, imagine how much that would hurt.
Lincoln had always been thoughtful and compassionate, always seeing the pain in others, even when I couldnt.
For years, when I was drowning in grief and confusion, he had been my anchor. My warmth. My light.
Now, his words stirred something deep inside me. A bittersweet ache.
After a long silence, I finally reached for my phone and sent an invitation to my mom.


The next day, the wedding venue brimmed with splendor.
Lincoln had arranged a grand, extravagant ceremony to show how much he cherished me. The hall was alive with laughter and excitement, the air thick with joy.
Among the sea of guests, my mother arrived as expected.
It had been years since I last saw her. She had grown thinner, the sharp angles of her face more pronounced. Wrinkles framed her tired eyes, and streaks of silver wove through her once-dark hair.
She looked older. Worn. Yet her expression was unreadable, her gaze flickering between me and Lincoln with an unreadable depth I couldnt quite grasp.
Then, at the hosts invitation, she stepped onto the stage.
Lincoln, beaming with happiness.
Auntie, thank you for coming to our wedding. He paused, then promised with heartfelt devotion, Please rest assured, I will cherish Sasha, love her for the rest of my life, and never let her suffer even the slightest grievance.
A warm cheer rippled through the crowd. The host smiled and turned to my mother, catching the rising emotions.
As the brides mother, is there anything youd like to say to your daughter?
A hush fell over the room, anticipation thick in the air.