And that’s when the real judgment began.
Rebecca didn’t even pretend to like me.
She waited until after the wedding.
We were standing in the hallway outside the dining room when she folded her arms.
“You really think you’re getting this house?”
I stared at her.
“I didn’t marry your father for his house.”
She laughed.
“You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
I looked toward the dining room.
Richard was inside talking to his sons.
“I’m here because he asked me to be here.”
Rebecca stepped closer.
“You’ll get nothing.”
I said nothing.
She smiled.
“You heard me.”
Before I could respond, Richard’s voice came from behind us.
“Rebecca.”
She froze.
He was standing several feet away.
He had heard everything.
Rebecca turned.
“I was just being honest.”
Richard looked at her for a long moment.
Then he looked at me.
“She’ll get exactly what she deserves.”
Rebecca’s face hardened.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
Richard didn’t answer.
Neither did I.
But that night, when we were alone, I asked him about it.
“Do you think your children hate me?”
Richard sat on the edge of the bed.
“No.”
“Rebecca does.”
