«  »I married a man 41 years older than me because of his fortune — after his funeral, his lawyer handed me a box and said, “He made sure his you got exactly what you deserved.” »

So Richard got sick.

Everything happened terrifyingly fast.

Six weeks after the diagnosis, I was standing at his funeral.

His children were in front of me as if I had personally taken their father.

Rebecca barely looked at me.

I cried anyway.

Not for the house.

Not for the money.

But because the man who had made me feel safe for the first time in years was gone.