“If you’re reading this, I’m gone. And if you’re reading it, that means I finally grew a spine. I never said it when I should’ve, but… I was wrong about you. All along. And I need to tell you why.”
I stared at the page, stunned. She wasn’t the kind of woman who admitted fault.
“I hated you not because of who you were, but because of what you reminded me of. I saw myself in you—young, driven, opinionated. I used to be like that. Until I gave it all up for marriage, for appearances, for people who never said thank you. When you married my son, I feared he’d ruin you the way his father ruined me.”
I swallowed hard. My husband wasn’t like that. But maybe she saw shadows I didn’t.
“So instead of loving you, I judged you. Your clothes, your laugh, your ambition. I pretended you weren’t enough, when deep down I knew you were more than I ever dared to be. And I regret that.”
My eyes blurred. I had spent years believing she was just bitter. Maybe she was. But this letter felt like something else—a reckoning.
“The necklace was mine once. A gift from a man I loved before I met my husband. His name was Lucas. The L was for him. I added the T later—for the daughter I never had. I wanted a girl I could raise to be strong. I never had her. But in a strange way… I see her in you.”
That was the end. No signature. No goodbye. Just that.
I didn’t sleep much that night.
Continued On Next Page
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