☕ A Lesson Too Late
That night, as she drove home, I sat alone in the dim light of the study. The folder still lay open on the desk. Part of me wished she had never seen it—that she would have discovered it only after I was gone, exactly as I had planned.
But another part of me was grateful.
Grateful that she knew now, while I was still here, that my love was never about money or control. It was about teaching her to stand tall—while knowing I would always be behind her, until my very last breath.
