When my mother passed, grief consumed me, but a deeper shock awaited. Her death unveiled a secret that shattered my trust in love and my husband, Peter. Her will left me $400,000, but with a condition: I’d only inherit if I was unmarried. She’d seen through Peter’s facade when I hadn’t.
After her death, Peter became unusually loving—until he learned I wouldn’t share the inheritance. His warmth vanished; he grew cold and demanded a divorce, claiming we “wanted different things.” I knew it was about the money. When I showed him the will’s clause, his face fell. If we stayed married, the estate would go to charity; if we divorced, I’d get it all.
We divorced quietly. I inherited everything, moved into my mother’s home, renovated it, and took solo trips I’d always dreamed of. Peter, expecting a windfall, left with nothing. My mother’s wisdom protected me, even in death, teaching me to see the truth about loyalty and love. Thank you, Mom.