But I need you to remember something.
You are not responsible for rescuing people from the consequences of their own choices.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
There was more.
The house is yours because we built a life inside it.
The money is yours because I wanted you and our daughter to have choices.
And if I never get to meet our little girl, please tell her that I loved her before I knew the color of her eyes.
I couldn’t stop crying.
Then I reached the final paragraph.
One day, someone will tell you that family means forgiveness.
Maybe it does.
But forgiveness never means handing someone the keys to hurt you again.
Love always,
Lucas.
I sat there until the sunlight faded across the floor.
For so long, I had believed Lucas’s greatest gift was the fortune he left behind.
I finally understood.
It wasn’t the house.
