When I remarried, I was aware my life would change in many ways, but I never expected my new wife to pressure me into spending my late wife’s savings on her daughters. That money was hard earned and was supposed to secure my children’s future, not hers.
For the hundredth time that week, I found myself holding Edith’s photo in my hands. Looking at her face that I missed terribly, I shed tears, trying to avoid my daughters seeing my pain.
My mom entered the room. “Charlie, it’s been three years, it’s time that you let it go. Your daughters need a father who would be fully present in their lives,” she said. “And what about that woman Gaby from the office. She’s also a single mother, so maybe…”
Before she could say more, I interrupted her. At that point, even the thought of being with someone was distant. I was still in love with Edith, despite the heartbreaking reality that she was no longer there.
However, as time passed by, my mom’s words lingered. Gaby and I started dating and eventually, we got married.
She and her girls moved in with me and my daughters. We created a beautiful blended family of six. The girls, all four of them, became very close, and things seemed to be working perfectly, until the moment Gaby mentioned my late wife’s savings.
“Charlie, we need to talk about the girls’ trust fund,” she said one day, out of the blue.
“What trust fund?” I asked, pretending I had no idea what she was talking about.
Honestly, I was shocked by my new wife‘s words. I didn’t know she knew about Edith’s savings, and even if she did, it was not something she should have worry about.
“I heard you talking with the financial advisor. Charlie, don’t play dumb, I know Edith left a huge amount of money for your daughters,” she said.
“That money is for their future—college, starting their lives,” I explained, trying to put a stop to the conversation.
But Gaby insisted that her daughters deserved the same chance.
Listening to her, I couldn’t believe she demanded my daughters’ money be shared with hers.
“Gaby, that money isn’t ours to touch. It’s Edith’s legacy for her children,” I said calmly, trying to keep my composure.
But since Gaby showed she was obviously mad at what I said, I suggested we set up a fund for her daughters with money from our joint account.
“But what about Edith’s money? They should be shared equally to all of our daughters. We are now a family,” she said.
“That won’t happen. Ever. That money was hard-earned, and my late wife left it to MY daughters. That’s not negotiable,” I replied firmly.
Gaby started crying, but her tears wouldn’t make me change my mind.
That evening, one of my daughters asked me if the things between Gaby and I were doing fine. I said I had everything under control and that couple sometimes fight over little things.
No matter the outcome, I remained steadfast.
My late wife’s savings were her legacy for our daughters and I was determined to protect it no matter what.
When Gaby realized my boundaries were firm, she promised to never mention the savings ever again.
It did affect our marriage in a way, but I protected what was sacred to me, my wife’s legacy and our daughters’ future.
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