At thirty, I was raising two kids alone—a kindergartner and a second grader. Their father had disappeared not long after our daughter was born, and I had no idea where he’d gone.
I worked full-time as an accountant, but it was never enough. We were always just scraping by, one unexpected expense away from everything falling apart.
And I was exhausted.
So when Richard came into my life promising security, I said yes.
I married someone old enough to be my father.
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