I was deeply saddened, yet resolute. “I’ll send you an invitation just in case you have a change of heart.”
Our wedding was intimate and perfect, save for the two vacant seats in the front row. Grandpa filled that void with his presence.
Life wasn’t a bed of roses. Liam’s teaching salary and my freelance work barely covered our expenses. But our home was brimming with love, especially after Sophie was born. Grandpa was our pillar of strength. He would bring groceries when our finances were tight and teach Sophie card games.
“You know what true wealth is?” he once told Sophie. “It’s having people who cherish you just as you are.”
When Grandpa passed away, I felt adrift. At his funeral, I saw my parents, who looked older yet still presentable, asking for forgiveness.
“Emma, dear,” my mother said, taking my hands, “we’ve been incredibly foolish. Can we attempt to rebuild our relationship?”
My heart swelled with hope until Aunt Claire pulled me aside and said, “Don’t be deceived. They’re only apologizing because of Grandpa’s will.”
“What condition?” I inquired.
Claire explained that Grandpa had made their inheritance contingent upon reconciling with me. Without mending fences, their share would be donated to charity.
The truth stung deeply. Even now, it all boiled down to money.
That day, I learned that Grandpa had left me a separate inheritance for Sophie’s education and to assist with our finances. But my parents would receive nothing. Their portion was going to educational charities.
I smiled, envisioning Grandpa’s contented smile. He had transformed their avarice into something positive.
That night, lying between Liam and Sophie on our old couch, I felt at peace. My parents’ betrayal still pained me, but it now seemed distant, overshadowed by the warmth of the family I had created. I knew I would never regret choosing love over money. After all, I knew I was the wealthiest person.
