When my sister stole my husband while I was pregnant, I was devastated. She always thought she was better than me, and it felt like she finally got what she wanted. But when her life fell apart, she came to me for help.
My entire life, I was in second place. No matter how hard I worked, my parents always focused on Stacy, my younger sister, who excelled at everything. I felt invisible. Only my grandmother truly saw me, and she became the mother I never had.
When I graduated high school, my parents kicked me out, but my grandmother helped me get to college. After graduation, I finally stood on my own two feet. I married Henry, though my grandmother never liked him. She always had a bad feeling about him.
Recently, my grandmother, feeling unwell, warned me about Henry’s infidelity. I didn’t want to believe it, but when I walked in on Henry and Stacy together in my bed, my world crumbled. Henry was cruel, telling me I was the problem, while Stacy mocked me.
I left, with nowhere else to go but my grandmother’s. She comforted me, and I knew I had to stand strong for my child. Eventually, I divorced Henry, who took everything. My grandmother was there for me through it all, giving me a place to stay.
Then, my grandmother’s health deteriorated. She passed away before she could meet my son, and I was heartbroken. At her funeral, I learned she left me everything in her will. My family reacted poorly, but I now had enough to care for my baby without worry.
Months later, Stacy came to me, asking for help. She and Henry had lost everything, and now she wanted my help. I couldn’t forget how she had hurt me, and I refused to let her stay. I gave her a lawyer’s contact, the most I could offer.
Finally, I felt free. My grandmother had given me the strength to move on, and I vowed to make her proud as I prepared for my baby’s arrival.