I had always felt a strange tension with my math teacher, but I never understood why. One day, while browsing through my school’s 1989 yearbook, I stumbled upon something that changed everything. There, in a class photo, was my teacher at 16, wearing a jacket with the same unique initials as my mom’s. I realized my mom had attended the school a year ahead of her, and as I flipped through more pages, I found a photo of them holding hands, gazing at each other in a way that felt more intimate than friendly.
I never suspected my mom had a past relationship with a woman. I kept my discovery to myself until graduation, when my mom looked visibly uncomfortable upon seeing my teacher. The teacher handed me a note that read: “Ask her.”
That night, my mom, tearful and nervous, confessed that my teacher had been her first love. Their relationship ended when her parents found out, but even though she later married my dad, my teacher had always been her true love.