The emptiness of George’s departure permeates their residence, his presence enduring in the shirt Mariana grips nightly. However, it wasn’t his passing that devastated her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s insistence on inheriting his wealth. When she reluctantly agreed, an unexpected twist left Susan enraged and Mariana strangely content.
Progressing past the death of a dear one is always challenging. At times, I still sense my husband George’s voice echoing in my mind. I awaken holding his cherished shirt, his fragrance still clinging to the material. Yet, as I mourned him, my stepdaughter’s actions… they utterly broke me…
I am Mariana, aged 57, wed to the kindest man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, aged 34, from an earlier marriage.
Our bond with Susan was once good. She addressed me as “Mom” and filled the gap in my heart from not bearing my own children. I never viewed her as “another’s” child. I cherished her as my own daughter, truly.
When Susan wed her chosen partner, George and I were thrilled. But then, everything deteriorated when George received a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Susan’s visits reduced from weekly to monthly, then ceased entirely. She seldom visited her father, occasionally phoning to inquire about his health.
One day, she posed a question that tore me apart. “How long does he have left?”
Clutching the phone tightly, my voice shook. “Susan, your father isn’t an item with an expiration date.”
“I just need to know, Mom. I’m swamped, you know that… I can’t come by often,” she responded.
“Swamped?” I repeated, my tone filled with disbelief. “Too swamped to visit your dying father?”
She exhaled deeply. “Look, I’ll attempt to come soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never materialized.
Then, the dreaded day arrived. The hospital informed me that George had passed away peacefully.
I was devastated, barely able to stand as the reality sank in. My beloved George, gone.
Shockingly, Susan didn’t attend his funeral. When I called her, she promptly excused herself.
“I’m expecting, Mom,” she stated, her tone strangely indifferent. “The doctors advised against lengthy travel due to some medical concerns.”
I swallowed hard, holding back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you wish to bid him farewell one last time?”
“I can’t jeopardize my baby’s health,” she curtly replied. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not truly, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, dear. Take care.”
As I sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t dismiss the notion that our relationship had irrevocably changed.
Six months post-George’s death, I was startled by a loud knock at my door. Opening it, I saw Susan and her husband Doug, along with a severe-looking man in a suit.
Susan entered without greeting. “Mom, we need your signature on some documents.”
Baffled, I blinked. “Which documents?”
Doug handed me a stack of papers, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. They’re for transferring all the properties into our names.”
My Brother Kept Insulting My Husband for Being “Just an Electrician”, I Wanted to Teach Him a Lesson, but Karma Did It Better
Growing up, my brother and I couldn’t be more different. Even though we were born into a family of successful professionals, our personalities and paths diverged. While I ended up marrying a successful electrician, my brother, Jack, never quite shook off his lawyer persona.
Our upbringing was comfortable, thanks to our hardworking parents. Dad ran his own business, and Mom was a brain surgeon. But Jack always had a knack for flaunting his wealth, despite never making the effort to start his own law firm.
In contrast, I preferred a more low-key lifestyle, running my own successful business. My husband, Mark, was the real success story, though. He was not just an electrician but a savvy businessman who had attended business school to turn his skills into a thriving enterprise.
Despite our success, we kept our wealth private and lived modestly. Mark was particularly generous, channeling a significant portion of his income into charity and investments.
Our family dynamics came to a head one day when Jack couldn’t resist bragging about his lavish lifestyle and poking fun at Mark’s profession. It was the final straw for me, but before I could teach him a lesson, karma stepped in.
During a family barbecue, Jack’s beloved Porsche was repossessed, revealing his financial downfall. He had lost his job and was struggling to make ends meet. It was a humbling experience for him, and he realized the value of hard work and humility.
In the end, Mark offered Jack a job at his business, teaching him the value of honest work. Jack accepted the offer, and with time, he transformed into a better person, leaving behind his arrogant ways.
Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons when we least expect it. Jack’s downfall was a wake-up call for him, and with the support of our family, he was able to turn his life around for the better.
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