My Late MIL, Who Hated Me for Years, Left Me Everything She Had – But Only on One Condition+

His older brother, Mark, was a different story. He stood near the front pew, dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief, but the smug twitch of his lips gave him away.

You could practically see him doing the math in his head: stocks, bonds, the mansion in Connecticut, and the antique collection Susan guarded like a dragon.

I wanted to feel something. Not grief, exactly, since that ship had sailed years ago, but at least a twinge of sadness. A tug at the heart. Anything. I stood there trying to recall a moment, even a small one, when Susan had been warm to me. Kind. But it was like trying to pull warmth from a stone.

A grieving woman in a black dress | Source: Pexels

From the first time we met, seven years ago, she had made it clear I wasn’t welcome. I still remember sitting at her massive dining room table, a cup of chamomile tea in my hand, and the sharp way she said, “You’ll never be part of this family, Kate. Not truly.”

At the time, I’d thought she was just being protective. But it never stopped. She tried to talk Eric out of marrying me. She even pulled him aside the night before our wedding and asked if he really wanted to throw his life away. That was Susan.

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