
A mother’s home is a shelter, and for me, it truly was. My husband, daughter, and I lived with my ill mother, and while some saw it as luck, it was more pressure than peace. I cared for her while my husband did nothing.
One night, she told me, “You have to leave him.” She saw how he treated me, how tired I was, and how Lily was affected. She urged me to save myself.
The next morning, Mom passed away. Jason’s first concern was the house, seeing it as an asset. Later, I found out my mother had left a trust with a condition: divorce Jason to keep the house, or it would be sold.
Jason’s disrespect pushed me to file for divorce. When I told him, “It’s over,” he was angry, but I stood firm. He left, and for the first time in years, the house felt like mine again.
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