When my mother passed away, I was heartbroken. I knew losing her would be painful, but I never imagined how much more would unfold after the funeral—especially when it came to my marriage.
My husband, Peter, and my mother never had the warmest relationship. She was always polite, but reserved around him. Her quiet expressions—tight smiles, skeptical glances—spoke volumes. I often brushed it off, chalking it up to her protective instincts. “He’s not perfect, Mom, but he’s mine,” I used to say. She’d just smile, like she knew more than she was saying.
After her sudden passing from a heart attack, I found myself swimming in regret. So many missed chances for conversation. So many times I prioritized keeping the peace at home over calling her back. I grieved not just for her absence—but for everything unsaid.
A few weeks later, her lawyer called with news I hadn’t expected: my mother had left me her entire estate—her home, her savings, her retirement accounts. Over $400,000 in total. I was stunned. She had always lived simply, never hinting that she had tucked away so much.
At first, Peter was the picture of support. He comforted me, brought me tea, even handled dinner a few nights. He said things like, “She just wanted to take care of you.” I believed him.
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