“A choice.”
He turned toward me.
“Your husband knew that after his death, his children would try to make you feel like an outsider.”
He pushed another envelope across the desk.
“He wanted you to know that you were never an outsider.”
I opened it.
Inside was another letter.
This one was shorter.
Elena,
You once told me that you were afraid people would always believe you married me for money.
I never believed that.
I knew exactly why you said yes.
You needed security.
You needed a home.
You needed someone to stop asking you to prove that you deserved a place at the table.
And perhaps I needed someone who would love me after all the people who claimed to love me had started counting what I was worth.
I couldn’t see the words anymore.
My tears had blurred the page.
So yes, my love.
You will receive money.
