Over the following weeks, the trust document seemed to shadow every decision we made. It was always there, a specter at the edge of our conversations.
« Maybe we should just agree to it, » my husband suggested one night, frustration creeping into his voice. « It’s not like we have to follow their rules. »
« But what if we do? » I countered, the thought of losing our autonomy gnawing at me.
We sought advice from a financial advisor, hoping for clarity. She was a no-nonsense woman who looked over the document with critical eyes.
« This is more than a gift, » she confirmed, pushing her glasses up her nose. « It’s a way to control how you use the funds. »
Her words confirmed what I’d feared all along. The trust wasn’t just a financial safety net; it was a leash.
As we left her office, the chill of realization settled over us. We were caught in a web of expectations, with no easy way out.
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