Jack and I spent nearly two decades together in what we considered a strong, committed partnership—marriage never felt necessary. We lived intentionally child-free, and when complications arose with birth control, Jack made the ultimate gesture of commitment by getting a vasectomy.
But everything came crashing down when I discovered his affair. The betrayal was devastating. I ended the relationship immediately, only to learn six months later that he had married the very woman he cheated with.
Life moved on—or so I thought. I met someone new, and although we hadn’t been together long, a surprise pregnancy turned out to be one of the happiest moments of my life. Jack, however, wasn’t so accepting. He began sending angry, sometimes bitter texts—accusing me of moving on too quickly, of “replacing him” with a child. I ignored them.
Then came the accident. Jack died suddenly.
His widow, now pregnant with his child, made headlines in our small social circles. But what stunned me wasn’t her grief—it was the call I got from his solicitor.
Jack had left his entire estate to me.
Not to his wife.
Not to his unborn child.
To me—his ex.
His current wife was outraged. Her family lashed out publicly, privately, and even legally. But none of them had seen what I now held in my hands: a handwritten letter from Jack, sealed and dated only a week before his death.
In it, he apologized—deeply and sincerely. He admitted that his marriage was never what he hoped it would be. He confessed to feeling trapped by expectations and guilt. He said he regretted how we ended and acknowledged that he had never stopped loving me. “I want you to use this inheritance to build a secure future for your child,” he wrote. “Something I couldn’t give you then, but I can now.”
I stood at his grave days later, clutching that letter in the wind. I whispered my goodbye and walked away with the inheritance.
But even now, I sometimes ask myself: Did I do the right thing?
The money helped build a life for my daughter.
It gave us security.
But it also sparked bitterness, lawsuits, and estrangement.
What would you have done in my place?
