terrible mistake.
Russell’s children were convinced I was after his money.
“”You think you’re getting the house?”” his daughter hissed at me after the wedding. “”You’ll get nothing!””
Russell heard her.
He didn’t argue.
He simply smiled.
“”She’ll get exactly what she deserves.””
I pretended their opinions didn’t bother me.
And yes, I loved the security Russell’s money gave me.
I loved waking up in a warm house, buying groceries without checking my bank balance, and no longer panicking over every bill.
But what I hadn’t expected was Russell himself.
He was gentle, patient, and kinder than I ever imagined.
At some point, the marriage stopped feeling like something I’d entered just to survive.
I genuinely began to care about him.
Then Russell got sick.
Everything happened unbelievably fast.
Only six weeks passed between his diagnosis and his funeral.
His children barely looked at me during the service.
The hatred
