My Husband Dumped Me and Married My Sister for an Inheritance, Then Begged Me to Take Him Back — Story of the Day

All the time, I heard about how beautiful, smart, and wonderful Angela was. She was the golden child, the perfect one. Meanwhile, I was just there, a shadow in the background.

The only person who supported me was my father, George, but he couldn’t do anything against my mother; she always manipulated things to her advantage.

When it came time for me to go to college, my mother said they couldn’t cover my tuition because it was too expensive and unnecessary since I was “stupid” (even though I had mostly A’s and a few B’s).

Her words cut deep, making me feel worthless. So, I had to find a job but still lived in my parents’ house. I worked hard, juggling a demanding job while trying to figure out my future.

When Angela graduated high school, my parents sent her to a private college. I was devastated when I heard this, literally having a breakdown, not understanding why we were treated so differently.

“You brought this on yourself. I’ve always been better than you. If you wanted to go to college, you should have studied harder,” Angela said.

But I knew that even if she didn’t have good grades, our parents would still have sent her to college. It wasn’t about our achievements; it was about their favoritism.

“I want you to pay for Angela’’ tuition too,” my mom said bluntly. “You’re her older sister, and you work, so it’s your duty. Besides, you never gave us any money or bought groceries.”

That night, I cried for hours. I felt like my heart was breaking. My father came into my room, looking worried and sad. He sat on the edge of my bed and gently took my hand.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to convince your mother that this is unfair to you, but you know her, once she decides something, that’s it,” he said softly.

That’s when I firmly decided not to live with them anymore. I saved up some money and moved out. The apartment was small, just a tiny one-bedroom place with a leaky faucet and creaky floors, but it was my space, my life.

Most importantly, my family wasn’t there, and I didn’t have to give them a cent for Angela’s tuition. For the first time, I felt a sense of freedom and peace.

My father sent me money from time to time to help me out. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference. Then, one day, the money stopped coming.

Confused and worried, I called him, but he didn’t answer. Later, I received a message from my mother: “Your father sent you money without my permission. You don’t deserve it because you didn’t pay for your sister’s education. I’ll send you the statements of all the money you owe us.”

That evening, a thick envelope arrived. Inside were pages and pages of statements, listing every penny they claimed I owed them. The total amount was staggering.

My mother had calculated everything down to the last cent, including things like groceries and utility bills from when I was still living at home. How could someone be so greedy? I realized then that my mother’s control and manipulation had no limits.

Later, I moved into a new apartment with my fiancé Tom, whom I met at work, and didn’t tell my parents about it. We were happy together, and for a while, I thought I could finally leave the past behind.

But when we got married, I decided I wanted to cut ties with my family once and for all. I asked Tom to go with me for support. He agreed, and I felt a little more confident about facing my parents.

When we entered my parents’ house, everything felt tense. I hadn’t been back in a long time, and the memories came rushing back. Then, Tom saw Angela, and it was like I ceased to exist for him.

He listened attentively to everything she said and complimented her on how beautiful she was. I felt a knot of discomfort in my stomach watching this, but I knew Angela had an influence on all men.

I approached my mother, who was sitting on the couch with a smug expression. “Mom, I need to talk to you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looked up at me, not even pretending to be interested. “What is it, Kate?”

“I got married. I have a real family now. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” I said, my voice strong.

My mother’s eyes flashed with anger. “You can’t do this to us! Especially now!” she shouted.

“Why not?” I asked, keeping my gaze steady.

“Your father had a heart attack. He needs care. You’ve always been so selfish!” she snapped.

I felt my heart drop. “Dad had a heart attack? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mother scoffed, crossing her arms. “It doesn’t matter. But you have to take care of him now.”

After this, I visited my father almost every day. I saw how my mother and Angela used his money without even discussing it with him.

“Why don’t you do something about this?” I asked him one day.

He looked tired and defeated. “We both know it’s useless. They won’t stop spending my money,” he replied.

I felt a pang of sadness. I hoped he would get better over time, but he only got worse. We had to put him in a hospital. My mother refused to pay for the hospital, even though it was his money, so I had to pay.

“Stop fussing over him. If he dies, we’ll get the insurance money,” she often said.

I couldn’t understand how she could talk so coldly about her own husband. It made my heart ache. One day, when I was driving to visit my father, my phone rang. The number was unknown. I answered, and a calm voice from the hospital spoke.

“Is this Kate?” the voice asked.

“Yes, it is,” I replied, my heart pounding.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but your father has passed away,” the voice said.

I felt the world crumble around me. I quickly pulled over to the side of the road. Tears streamed down my face, and I started crying uncontrollably. I felt an emptiness inside, a deep sorrow that words couldn’t express.

Sitting in my car, I thought about all the moments we shared, his kindness, and how he was the only one who ever stood by me. I was devastated.

I felt lost, unsure of how to move forward. Then, fear crept in. What would my mother and sister do with everything that was left? I knew they would waste no time in taking what they wanted.

My father’s passing was not just a loss; it was the beginning of a battle. A battle to protect his memory and what little he had left for me.

But two days later, I received another call from an unknown number. I answered, feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Hello, is this Kate?” a voice asked.

“Yes, it is. Who’s calling?” I responded.

“This is Mr. Johnson, your father’s lawyer. I’m in charge of his will. I have some important news for you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

“Your father left you $1.5 million,” Mr. Johnson said.

I was sure it was a joke. “That’s impossible. My father didn’t have that kind of money,” I replied.

“He opened an account when you were born and kept adding to it over the years,” the lawyer explained.

“My mother and sister would have spent that money long ago. It’s impossible,” I insisted, still in disbelief.

“They didn’t know about it. No one did. Your father kept it secret to ensure you would be taken care of. But to get the money, we’ll need some documents, yours and your father’s. Can you bring them to my office?” Mr. Johnson asked.

“I think so,” I said, feeling overwhelmed.

After I finished talking to the lawyer, I sat in complete shock, not believing it was true. My father had done this for me, quietly, all these years. Tears filled my eyes, but this time they were tears of gratitude.

That evening, Tom approached me, looking curious. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him about the inheritance.

“Did you get anything from your father?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

“No,” I lied, wanting to see his reaction.

He sneered. “I knew it. You were never worthy of your family. I don’t want to live with a poor woman anymore. Angela and I have been talking for a long time, so I want to divorce you.”

He handed me the divorce papers he had already signed. I felt a mix of anger and relief. Without a word, I took the pen and signed them. I didn’t need a husband who was ready to leave me at the first opportunity.

I watched him walk away, feeling a strange sense of freedom. I was done with people who didn’t value me. I had my father’s legacy, and I would build my own future.

The next day, I went to my parents’ house with the lawyer. My mother didn’t want to let me in at first, but seeing the lawyer, she had to.

“There’s nothing here for you! Father left the house to us!” Angela shouted as soon as we stepped inside.

I took a deep breath and replied calmly, “Father left me one and a half million dollars.” I saw Tom, who was standing nearby, turn pale.

“What?! That’s impossible!” my mother screamed, waving a piece of paper. “Here’s his will. It says everything goes to us!”

I took the document from her hand and examined it. It was clearly written in Angela’s handwriting, not my father’s. The lawyer took a closer look and nodded.

“Your father left his will to me, and I have the only copy. I don’t know what this is,” he said, holding up the fake will.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney