My Lesson Was Strict
After remarrying Gaby, I never expected her to pursue my late wife Edith’s money, which was meant for our daughters’ future. When Gaby pressured me for access to the trust fund, it set off a confrontation that changed everything.
I often reminisced about Edith, clutching an old photo of her with our daughters. My mother encouraged me to move forward, suggesting Gaby as a mother figure for the girls. A year into our marriage, Gaby seemed to fit in well, but something felt off.
One evening, while making coffee, Gaby brought up the trust fund. I felt my stomach drop. “That money is for my daughters’ future,” I insisted, but she argued for equality among all the kids. The conversation escalated, and I stood firm that Edith’s money was off-limits.
Realizing Gaby’s intentions, I devised a plan. I pretended to set up a new account for her daughters funded by our joint income, making it clear that Edith’s money would remain untouched. Gaby was furious, but I held my ground.
Tension grew between us, and my eldest daughter sensed something was wrong. I reassured her, but I knew our marriage was unstable. Gaby’s greed had shown a side of her I couldn’t ignore.
Ultimately, Gaby learned she couldn’t manipulate me into accessing Edith’s money. I had promised to protect our daughters’ future and their mother’s legacy, and I wouldn’t let anyone, not even Gaby, jeopardize that. If she wanted to stay in our family, she would have to respect my boundaries.
