That afternoon, I returned to her estate. She welcomed me warmly and then surprised me by saying she had invited Stuart too. I didn’t think he’d come—but he did. He greeted Martha with a bright smile, acting as though nothing had happened. That was always his way—especially around Martha, who had no family and whose generosity he admired a little too much.
As we sat, Martha calmly shared that she was moving into a retirement community and had decided to leave her home to someone she trusted. Stuart perked up. But then, she turned to me.
“After seeing what you did to your mother’s home,” she said to Stuart, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m giving the house—and most of my estate—to Nadine.”
His face shifted from surprise to disbelief. He tried to argue, to explain, but Martha stood firm. “I’m glad I never had children,” she said softly but clearly.
Stuart left abruptly, frustrated and angry. The quiet that followed was heavy.
Martha took my hand and said, “You don’t have to say anything. You’ve been a true friend. You deserve this.”
I couldn’t hold back the tears. I cried for the home I lost, the son I didn’t recognize anymore, and the unexpected kindness I’d received. Life is rarely simple. Some moments carry both sorrow and gratitude, and this was one of them. A heartbreaking reminder that while some doors close, others open in the most surprising ways.