Chapter 5 - THE SECRET MY MOTHER LEFT BEHIND
Three days after leaving Alexander, I received a call from my mother's attorney.
His name was Daniel Mercer.
He had handled her affairs for nearly twenty years.
“Claire,” he said gently, “your mother left instructions for me to contact you after the funeral.”
My throat tightened.
“What instructions?”
“There's something she wanted you to have.”
We met the following afternoon.
Ethan stayed with my childhood friend, Rebecca.
Daniel's office overlooked the Chicago River.
He handed me a thick envelope.
Inside was a letter.
My mother's handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
My darling Claire,
If you're reading this, then I've finally gone somewhere you can't follow me yet.
Please don't spend your life wishing you'd done more. You gave me everything that mattered.
My eyes filled.
I continued reading.
There's something I never told you because I wanted you to build a marriage without feeling you had to defend your independence.
When your grandfather died, he left a small investment account in your name. I managed it until you were ready. Over the years, it grew.
It belongs to you, sweetheart. Not to your husband. Not to anyone else.
Use it to build a life that makes you proud.
And please, plant roses somewhere Ethan can see them.
I covered my mouth.
Daniel waited while I cried.
Then he slid a folder across the desk.
I opened it.
Inside were account statements and trust documents.
I stared at the balance.
More than three million dollars.
I looked up.
“This can't be right.”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“Your mother was an excellent investor.”
I shook my head.
“She lived in a little apartment.”
“She liked her apartment.”
“She drove a twelve-year-old car.”
“She liked that too.”
I began laughing through tears.
Daniel continued, “She wanted you to know that money is useful, but it isn't a substitute for freedom.”
I looked at the documents.
For years, Alexander had reminded me that everything in our life came from him.
The mansion.
The cars.
The vacations.
The security.
He'd used wealth as proof that I needed him.
May you like
Now my mother had left me something far more valuable than money.
A way to stop believing him.
