Our family dinners were sacred. Every Sunday, my brother Brian and I, along with our families, would gather at Mom’s for her famous roast chicken. It had been our tradition since Dad passed away three years ago — a way to stay close and support her.But one Sunday morning, Mom sent an abrupt message:
“Please don’t come today.”

No explanation. No emoji. Nothing like her.Worried, Brian and I rushed to her house. When I got there, the lights were off, curtains drawn, and something just felt… wrong. Using the spare key, I let myself in.And there, sitting at our kitchen table, was a man who looked exactly like Dad.Mom stood quietly at the counter, clearly distressed. When Brian arrived, we demanded answers. That’s when Mom finally revealed the truth:The man was James — our father’s twin brother. A brother we never knew existed.Mom explained that she had once loved James, before he disappeared from her life. She later married our father, who had always loved her and stood by her side. But during a rough patch in their marriage, she confessed to him that James had been her first love — a painful truth our father forgave, though he cut ties with his brother forever.Now, 30 years later, James had come back, seeking forgiveness and a second chance. But we couldn’t accept it. We asked him to leave.Mom broke down, feeling she’d betrayed both our father and us. But we reminded her: she gave us love, stability, and the best childhood we could ask for.That night, we didn’t have roast chicken, but we ordered pizza, made tea, and sat around the same old table — just like always.Before we left, Mom sent a new message to our family group chat:“Dinner next Sunday. 6 p.m. Bring tupperware. And maybe a hug.”