Chapter Four — The Woman Who Raised Me
My hands shook as I opened the envelope.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It belonged to the woman I had called Aunt Rose my entire life.
Inside was a letter.
I read it once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
My entire world seemed to tilt.
Stacy,
There are things about your past that I should have told you years ago.
I stopped reading.
“Aunt Rose knew?”
Bradley nodded.
“She contacted me after finding out what my mother had done.”
I looked at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid.”
I laughed through my tears.
“Everyone is always afraid. But somehow I'm the one who has to pay for everyone's fear.”
He looked devastated.
I continued reading.
The truth was unbelievable.
Aunt Rose wasn't my biological aunt.
She had taken me in when I was a baby.
My biological parents had died when I was young, and there had been a dispute over my inheritance.
An inheritance my parents had left me.
An inheritance Bradley's mother's company had once managed.
And suddenly everything made sense.
His mother hadn't simply disliked me.
She had known who I was.
She had known about my inheritance.
And Bradley had been caught in the middle.
I looked at him.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
“Yesterday.”
I wiped my tears.
“So your mother knew who I was before we got married?”
“Yes.”
“And she still tried to control our marriage?”
Bradley nodded.
I turned away.
For years, I had believed I was simply an unwanted wife.
But I had been part of something much bigger.
Then Bradley took my hand.
“Stacy, I should have stood up to her years ago.”
I looked into his eyes.
“You should have.”
“I know.”
“And you hurt me.”
“I know.”
“You made me feel like I was never enough.”
His voice broke.
“You were always enough.”
For the first time in years, I saw the man I had fallen in love with.
Not the obedient son.
Not the man who ran whenever his mother called.
My husband.
“I can't erase what happened,” he whispered. “But I can stop letting her control our lives.”
Before I could answer, the front door slammed open.
His mother stood there.
But this time, she wasn't angry.
She looked terrified.
“Bradley,” she whispered.
He stood.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“Your inheritance isn't what you think it is.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
She stepped inside.
“The money your parents left you…”
She swallowed.
“…wasn't the only thing they left behind.”
