AT THE READING OF MY HUSBAND’S WILL, I FOUND OUT HE LEFT ME AND OUR THREE KIDS WITH NOTHING — THAT WASN’T THE WORST PART

AT THE READING OF MY HUSBAND’S WILL, I FOUND OUT HE LEFT ME AND OUR THREE KIDS WITH NOTHING — THAT WASN’T THE WORST PART

AT THE READING OF MY HUSBAND’S WILL, I FOUND OUT HE LEFT ME AND OUR THREE KIDS WITH NOTHING — THAT WASN’T THE WORST PART

When my husband passed, I was broken. He was my whole world, and suddenly I was alone with three little kids. I held it together for them.

When the lawyer called about the will reading, I expected it to be simple. We didn’t have much, but whatever he left… I assumed it was for us.

I sat down in that office holding my breath. Then the lawyer began:
“His house, car and bank accounts… ALL goes to Jennifer Green.”
At first, I smiled, but the words properly hit me — “Wait, who is THAT?!”
It felt like some kind of cruel joke. But the lawyer continued, “It’s no mistake. Listen…”
That’s when my world shifted.

The lawyer cleared his throat and flipped a few pages in the folder, avoiding my eyes. “Jennifer Green is listed as the sole beneficiary,” he repeated. “Your husband updated his will two years ago.”

Two years ago? That was after our youngest was born. We were celebrating his first steps. My husband and I were planning a trip to the lake. He kissed me goodnight every evening.

I gripped the chair’s armrests, my knuckles white. “Who. Is. She?” I asked again, slower this time.

The lawyer hesitated, then slid a photo across the desk. “She’s… well… listed as his ‘business partner’ on the documents. But she’s also the emergency contact on all his medical records. And—” he paused, unsure if he should continue, “—she signed as the co-owner on his new condo lease.”

I stared at the photo. A woman—mid-thirties, pretty, polished, and very pregnant—smiled at the camera, her hand resting on a familiar shoulder. My husband’s.

Something inside me snapped.

“He was living a double life?” I whispered.

The lawyer looked sympathetic but remained professional. “It appears so. There’s more.”

He opened another envelope and pulled out a handwritten letter. “This… this is addressed to you.”

I took the letter with trembling hands and opened it, bracing myself.


My Love,
If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone, and for that I am so, so sorry. I know this letter can’t undo what I’ve done, but you deserve the truth.

There’s no easy way to say it — I made mistakes. Big ones. I loved you, and I always will, but I also loved Jennifer. She came into my life when things were… hard. And I couldn’t let go of either of you. I was a coward.

She’s having my child. I wanted to make sure they’re taken care of.

I know what I’ve done can’t be forgiven, but please remember the kids. They are the best part of me. The best part of us.

Take care of them. I know you will. You always were the stronger one.

— Mark


I stared at the page, my hands numb. My heart felt like it had cracked into something unrecognizable. The betrayal burned like acid, but somehow beneath it… was grief.

Grief for the man I thought I knew. Grief for the life we built that was now a lie.

The lawyer cleared his throat again, softly this time. “There is one more thing…”

“What now?” I whispered, not sure I could take another hit.

“There’s a trust fund,” he said. “In the kids’ names. It was set up quietly a year ago, without Jennifer’s name attached. It’s not much… but it’s something. He left a letter for each of them too.”

My fingers brushed the edges of the three smaller envelopes the lawyer handed over.

He may have left me with nothing. But he didn’t leave them behind.

I stood up slowly, clutching the letters, my kids’ faces flashing in my mind. If Mark thought this would break me, he didn’t know me at all.

He took away the life I knew — now I’d rebuild one without him.

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