After Losing My Mom, My Dad Fell in Love With Her Twin. Then My Grandmother Finally Told the Truth

“You’re early,” she said with a bright smile.

She was wearing my mother’s apron.

Inside, everything looked staged. Pillows aligned. Counters spotless. It felt like my mom had just stepped out of the room. Dad had never cared about that sort of thing. He used to joke that Mom cleaned like we were expecting company even when we weren’t.

Dinner was pleasant but distant. I noticed small things I couldn’t explain at first. Lena refilled Dad’s glass without asking. Passed him the salt before he reached for it. She knew his habits.

Then Dad cleared his throat.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. “Lena and I are engaged.”

The words didn’t land properly. They just hovered there.

Lena took his hand, fingers lacing naturally. “I know it’s a lot,” she said softly. “But we’ve been leaning on each other for a long time.”

Dad nodded. “After your mom passed, Lena was here every day. She helped me function. She’s been living here for months.”

Months. I hadn’t known.

He talked about love. About not wasting time. About life being short.

I smiled and nodded because I didn’t know what else to do.

Over the next weeks, everyone praised Lena.
“She stepped right in.”
“Your mom would have wanted this.”
“She’s such a blessing.”

I stayed quiet. I was twenty-three, old enough to understand grief made people do strange things. And I wanted my father to be okay.

But it felt wrong.

At a small pre-wedding gathering, I watched Lena move through the room confidently. She wore her hair the way my mom always had. A low bun, loose strands framing her face. I couldn’t stop noticing.

That’s when my grandmother found me.

“You look heartbroken,” she said gently.

“I don’t understand how this is happening so fast,” I admitted. “It feels like Mom didn’t even get time to be gone.”

My grandmother’s face tightened. She took my hand.

“You need to know the truth,” she whispered. “And I can’t tell you here. Come with me.”

We left quietly and took a taxi to her house. My heart raced the entire way.

She went to the attic and brought down a box filled with photo albums and notebooks.

“I never dressed them alike,” she said suddenly.

I looked at her, confused.