I gave up everything to care for my mother in her final days. I fed her, bathed her, paid her bills, and stayed by her side until her last breath. I thought she’d leave me the house. Instead, when the will was read, I was left with nothing. The betrayal cut deep, but the truth behind her decision changed everything I thought I knew about my family—and myself.
The funeral had just passed, and now I was driving to Mom’s house with my husband Dan. He smelled faintly of alcohol, though he swore he’d quit. Outside, the lawyer waited with the will. My sister Phoebe was late, as usual. When she finally arrived, mascara streaked her face. “Rough night?” I asked. She smirked. “Is it that obvious?”
Inside, the lawyer began reading. I braced myself for confirmation that the house was mine. Instead: “The house and all assets go to Phoebe.”
“What?” I shouted. Dan exploded, pointing at her. “My wife cared for your mother! You did nothing!” Phoebe fled outside in tears. I followed, apologizing for Dan. She sat on Mom’s favorite bench, shoulders slumped. I asked her to sell me the house. She refused.
“You didn’t do anything to deserve it!” I snapped. “I sacrificed everything for Mom, and she still gave it to you because you were her favorite!”
Phoebe’s voice rose. “You have everything, Katherine—a job, a husband, opportunities. I have nothing. Just this house.”
Her words stung. She was right. I had chosen responsibility over freedom, even turning down a job abroad to stay close. I stormed away, but Dan wouldn’t let it go. He pushed me to contest the will. I didn’t understand why—until I found overdue bills and debt notices stacked in his office. Gambling. He wanted the house sold to cover his losses.
Furious, I confronted him. “Is that why you pushed me? To pay off your debts?” He admitted it. I left, driving to Mom’s house. Phoebe opened the door, annoyed. “Here to persuade me again?” she asked. I shook my head. “Dan gambled away a ton of money.”
Her irritation softened. We sat on the backyard bench. She offered to sell and split the money. I refused. “Mom left it to you. She wanted you to have it.”
Phoebe’s voice cracked. “I’ve always felt in your shadow. Katherine this, Katherine that. I was just the weird one.”
I smiled. “Just like Mom.”
We laughed together, finally seeing each other clearly. I admitted Mom loved us both, but differently. Phoebe confessed she couldn’t bear to watch Mom suffer, and that’s why she wasn’t there. I understood.
That night, I decided: I’d leave Dan, give Phoebe money for her flower shop, and finally take the job abroad. For the first time, I felt free.
Phoebe hugged me tightly. “You’ll be fine. And so will I.”
And she was right. Mom’s will wasn’t betrayal—it was her way of forcing us to face the truth, to stop living in shadows, and to finally choose ourselves.
