WHEN I HEARD MY HUSBAND’S WILL READ, I DISCOVERED HE GAVE ME AND OUR THREE CHILDREN NOTHING — BUT THAT WASN’T THE MOST DEVASTATING PART.

Single Mother of 3 Attends the Reading of Her Deceased Husband’s Will, Only to Discover the Lawyer Was His Lover — Story of the Day 

Megan arrived to listen to her deceased husband’s will, anticipating closure—not treachery. However, as the refined young lawyer recited the last words, Megan discovered the unimaginable: all had been bequeathed to her. Not to his spouse—but to his lover. And that was merely the start. 

The morning sun poured over the windshield like liquid gold, illuminating the dashboard gently, yet Megan struggled to keep her eyes from closing. 

Her head ached, her eyes stung, and every part of her felt weighty. The type of heaviness that isn’t due to insufficient sleep—it arises from grief. 

In the rear seat, Eli and Noah were tussling for a wrinkled snack bag. It rustled loudly between them as Noah exclaimed, “It’s mine!” and Eli retorted, “You already had your turn!” 

“Cut it out!” “You two!” Lily, their sister, attempted to maintain harmony, her soft voice aiming to sound like an adult’s. 

“You’re behaving like infants.” 

“Guys, come on,” Megan stated, gripping the steering wheel more firmly. 

Her voice carried a serenity, yet it held a distinct edge, a fissure just beneath the surface. “Just… pause for five minutes, alright?” “Kindly.” 

The vehicle plunged into a short, charged quiet. 

Being a single mother was always challenging. Megan had mastered the art of managing lunches, laundry, late-night illnesses, and damaged toys. However, today, it seemed as though the burden of the world rested on her shoulders. 

Two weeks ago, Tom, her spouse, the father of the children, the one individual who once brought her stability, had died. 

The children continued to laugh, quarrel, and play as usual. They did not completely grasp what had occurred. 

However, Megan did. 

She couldn’t risk breaking down. Not at the moment. Never. She needed to be their support, their protection. 

She took them to school. Noah dashed forward. Lily hopped, her ponytail bobbing. However, Eli—Eli stayed. 

He exited the vehicle gradually, with his backpack trailing behind him. Megan noticed the sorrow in his gaze, the burden he attempted to conceal. 

“Hello,” she spoke softly, emerging and circling around to join him. 

She lowered herself until they were at eye level and put her hands on his tiny shoulders. 

“We will be fine.” 

He kept quiet. Just glanced down. 

“We will overcome anything that happens.” “I give you my word.” She stroked his hair with her fingers just like Tom did. 

He nodded, gradually and uncertainly, then faced the school doors. 

Megan returned to the vehicle. The stillness now seemed more intense than the previous turmoil. 

She lifted her hand to lower the sun visor, aiming to shield herself from the intense sunlight. Something fell out and wafted into her lap. 

It was a photograph—an aged Polaroid, edges gently curled due to time. It was she and Tom, giggling on a beach at some place. 

Their hair tousled by the breeze, cheeks glowing from the sun, arms entwined as if nothing could tear them apart. 

She gasped.

The tears flowed quickly, too quickly to halt. Her body trembled as she bent forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. 

The sorrow overwhelmed her like a smashing wave, the sort that drags you down. 

After ten minutes, she eventually sat up, used her hands to wipe her face, and murmured, “Stay strong.” 

Then she turned on the car and drove to the attorney’s office. 

The law firm was excessively tidy, excessively silent. The scent of lemon polish blended with a barely perceptible metallic odor—possibly from the filing cabinets or the air conditioning. 

Megan paused in the doorway for a moment, straightening her blouse and flicking away unseen lint from her skirt. 

She desired to appear composed, as if she were in command. Yet her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the door. 

A woman dressed in a navy suit rose to welcome her. She was tall and refined, her makeup flawless, and her blonde hair secured in an orderly twist. 

Her smile was piercing, as if it had been rehearsed before a mirror. 

“You must be Megan,” she remarked. “I am Jennifer Green, the lawyer for Tom.” 

Megan flicked her eyes. The name held no significance for her. “You were his attorney?” she inquired, her tone level with skepticism. 

Jennifer agreed and gave her a clipboard. “Certainly.” “I will read Tom’s last will.” 

Megan grasped the clipboard and swiftly signed, her grip on the pen growing firmer. 

“Let’s just finish this quickly.” “I have three children and an overwhelming number of responsibilities.” 

“Certainly,” Jennifer responded effortlessly, positioned at her desk with a bit too much comfort. That smile once more—it lacked warmth. It seemed self-satisfied. 

Jennifer accessed the folder before her and started to read. 

“Thomas Carter’s last will… item one: the household property… item two: automobile… item three: financial accounts…” 

Megan heard, her expression emotionless. Everything was anticipated. 

Then— 

“I bequeath all assets and property to Jennifer Green.” 

The words struck like a blow. Megan closed and opened her eyes. “Hold on.” “What did you just mention?” 

Jennifer glanced upward, expression serene. “Tom entrusted everything to me.” 

“To you?” Megan’s voice broke. “You’re the attorney.” “That doesn’t even add up!” 

“I merely adhere to his directions,” Jennifer stated, clasping her hands as if readying for a board meeting. 

“It was his choice.” 

Megan sprang to her feet, the chair clattering noisily as she moved. “Negative.” No, that is incorrect. “You were in bed with him, weren’t you?” 

Jennifer remained unperturbed. She simply leaned her head to the side, as if she was tired of pretending. “He cared for me.” 

Megan felt a constriction in her chest. The office started to fade at the corners. 

She withdrew, hardly able to inhale. “You’ll come to regret this,” she remarked, her voice soft and trembling. 

Jennifer remained silent. 

Megan didn’t wait for any. She pivoted on her heel and exited, the noise of her heels striking the ground the sole thing supporting her balance. 

Later that afternoon, Megan drove into the school parking lot, attempting to set aside the morning’s surprise. 

Eli and Noah rushed in, backpacks jostling, arguing about who had won at kickball. Lily trailed right behind, clutching a paper crown she created during class. 

“Mom, what are we having for dinner?” Noah inquired, getting into the backseat. 

“Could we get pancakes?” Lily remarked, already fastening her seatbelt. 

Megan gave a faint smile. “We’ll find out, sweetheart.” Her voice remained calm, yet it didn’t seem like it belonged to her. She maintained her smile, even as her heart seemed to be falling apart. 

They were loud and famished and brimming with inquiries, just as usual. And she wasn’t ready to reveal the truth to them just yet. 

As they drove into the driveway, Megan felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. A man dressed in a dark suit was standing on the porch. He clutched a folder and resembled a person bringing unfortunate news. 

“Mrs. Carter?” he inquired as she emerged from the vehicle. 

“Is that so?” 

Megan gave a faint smile. “We’ll find out, sweetheart.” Her voice remained calm, yet it didn’t seem like it belonged to her. She maintained her smile, even as her heart seemed to be falling apart. 

They were loud and famished and brimming with inquiries, just as usual. And she wasn’t ready to reveal the truth to them just yet. 

As they drove into the driveway, Megan felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. A man dressed in a dark suit was standing on the porch. He clutched a folder and resembled a person bringing unfortunate news. 

“Mrs. Carter?” he inquired as she emerged from the vehicle. 

“Is that so?” 

Everything was slipping away from her grasp—her marriage, her home, the life she believed she possessed. 

“Mother?” Noah’s voice was quiet now. He stood a short distance away, carrying his backpack. “Will we be alright?” 

Megan gazed at him, her throat constricted. She wished to agree. She wished to assure him of everything. Yet no words emerged. 

That evening, once the children were in bed, she entered the bedroom and opened Tom’s wardrobe. His shirts remained arranged neatly, still carried his scent. 

She began taking everything down, preparing to discard it all. 

A jacket fell from her arms and dropped to the ground. 

An item slipped from the pocket and dropped close to her feet. 

An envelope that is sealed. 

She grabbed it, gazing at her name inscribed in Tom’s script. 

With trembling hands, Megan opened the seal on the envelope. Her fingers shook as she opened the paper within. 

A single look at the handwriting made her breath hitch in her throat. It belonged to Tom. She could recognize those untidy, irregular letters anywhere. 

Her gaze traveled slowly over the page.

Megan, If you’re seeing this, it indicates that I’m no longer here. I realize I previously provided a copy of the will to Jennifer, but I’m beginning to have doubts about her. Something seems amiss. Just in case… here’s the actual version. Hand it over to a skilled attorney. Someone you rely on. You were the greatest experience I’ve ever had. I apologize if I ever made you feel different. I love you. Forever.—Tom 

Megan placed her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were on fire. For a brief moment, she simply remained seated, keeping the letter tight to her chest. 

Within the envelope lay another sheet of folded paper—an official-seeming document. An additional will. 

She opened it, reading attentively. Each word seemed like a gasp of air after being submerged. 

The home. The funds. All things. Left with her and the children. 

Her shoulders trembled. However, it wasn’t sorrow this time. 

It was rage. 

Jennifer had not been truthful. She had deceived all. She attempted to take what Tom had abandoned for his family. 

Megan dried her tears, but her hands were calm now. Her heart thudded powerfully in her chest. 

She was no longer shattered. She was prepared. 

This was not merely concerning what was stolen. With genuine intent, Jeniffer’s time was limited. 

It concerned what she would bring back. 

In just a week, everything transformed. 

Megan didn’t lose any time. The following morning, she contacted Carol Reynolds, a nearby lawyer recognized in the community for her straightforward demeanor and keen sense of fairness. 

Carol was in her sixties, sporting gray curls and wearing reading glasses that dangled from a chain around her neck. 

She paid close attention while Megan shared all the details, then nodded and replied, “Let’s resolve this.” 

The court acted more quickly than Megan anticipated. Carol provided the authentic will, Tom’s note, and the narrative. 

Megan had experienced. The truth emerged like sunlight breaking through clouds. Jennifer was caught—she had forged the will, deceived, and almost escaped consequences. 

She did not. 

The court revoked Jennifer’s law license. Charges were brought. Megan felt no happiness at her downfall—only relief. As if a great weight had at last been removed. 

Ultimately, Megan retained ownership of the house. The vehicle. The funds. But beyond that, she held something more profound—her children’s residence. 

Their location of security. A fragment of the life she and Tom created together. 

On a sunny Sunday morning, Megan was seated on the front porch. The children giggled in the garden, running after one another in the gentle wind. 

The warmth of her coffee filled her hands. The trees moved softly, with sunlight shimmering through the foliage. 

Life wasn’t without flaws. She continued to miss Tom. That pain hadn’t gone away. However, it no longer controlled her. 

“Mother!” Lily shouted, sprinting over with a handful of wildflowers. “These are meant for you!” 

Megan grinned and accepted them. “They’re lovely, dear.” “Thanks a lot.” 

She gazed at the sky with gentle eyes and murmured, “We will be perfectly okay.”