I stopped going to the office and started working from home. I wanted to be close in case she needed me. I cooked her favorite meals, even though she barely ate.
I cleaned the house and kept things in order, but I made sure she still felt useful. “Grandma, do you like this color for the nursery?” I asked one afternoon, holding up fabric samples. She smiled softly.
“The blue one. It’s calm and peaceful.”
We took short walks when she felt strong enough. We watched our favorite shows in the evenings, laughing at the same jokes we had heard a hundred times.
She was my strength, and I was hers. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop time. My grandmother passed away when I was eight months pregnant.
She never got to meet her great-grandson. Losing her shattered me, but I had to stay calm for my baby. I couldn’t let my grief hurt him.
At the funeral, I saw my family for the first time in a long time. My parents, Stacy, and even Henry showed up. Stacy didn’t look like herself.
Her face was pale, and her eyes looked hollow. She seemed tired and worn out. After the service, we gathered in my grandmother’s living room for the reading of her will.
I sat quietly, my hands resting on my belly. “There’s not much to say,” the lawyer began. “Everything is inherited by May and her child, with a note saying, ‘For always being there.’”
I froze.
I knew my grandmother would leave me something, but I never imagined she would leave me everything. My family exploded into shouting. My parents argued.
Stacy threw a fit. Even Henry had something to say. The noise was too much.
I felt dizzy. The lawyer noticed and quickly escorted them out. With my grandmother’s inheritance, I had enough to take maternity leave without worry.
Still, I didn’t want to waste her money. I planned to work as long as I could. I knew she would want me to be strong.
Not long after the funeral, someone rang my doorbell. I wasn’t expecting anyone. When I opened the door, I saw Stacy.
She looked even worse than she had at the funeral. Her face was pale, and her eyes were red and puffy. Her clothes were wrinkled, and her hair was a mess.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice flat. “Can I come in?” Stacy asked softly, avoiding my eyes. “Say what you need here,” I said.
“I need your help,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need money.”
I crossed my arms. “Why should I help you?”
“Henry still hasn’t found a job,” she said, her voice trembling.
“We lost the house because of the debts. Now we’re living with our parents.” She looked down. “And… he’s cheating on me.”
“That was your choice, Stacy,” I said.
“You stole my husband because you thought you were better than me. Remember?”
“I didn’t know it would turn out like this,” she whispered. “Maybe… maybe you could let us stay with you?
You have more space than our parents.”
I blinked in disbelief. “Do you hear yourself? You spent your whole life putting me down.
You took my husband. And now you want my help?”
“Is it that hard for you?!” Stacy snapped, her voice rising. “You convinced Henry that I wasn’t carrying his child,” I said firmly.
“I need to focus on my son’s future. Not you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “What am I supposed to do?!” she cried.
“You made your choice,” I said with a calm but firm voice. “The most I can do is give you the contact info of a good divorce lawyer.” I paused and added, “After all, you did save me from Henry.”
“You’re horrible!” Stacy yelled, her face twisted with anger. I looked at her, my heart steady.
“Think about everything you’ve done to me and then decide who’s really horrible here.”
“I’m not leaving Henry!” she screamed. “I don’t need your lawyer!” She turned and stormed away. I watched her leave without saying another word.
I felt no guilt. I had finally stood up for myself. I went inside and closed the door behind me.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe. The weight of everything was slowly lifting. I leaned against the door and let out a deep sigh.
My heart still ached for my grandmother. I missed her every day. The house felt empty without her warmth and love.
But even though she was gone, she had taken care of me and my baby. She had left us with security and a future. I placed my hand on my belly and whispered, “Thank you, Grandma.
I’ll make you proud.”
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