After my divorce from Michael, I spotted him in a supermarket parking lot, stepping out of a flashy white sports car, dressed in a designer suit—a stark contrast to the grocery clerk I knew. When I approached, he dismissed me coldly, tossing a $100 bill as a “parting gift.” Shocked, I noticed a smiley face I’d drawn on it years ago for my dying grandfather, who’d tried to give me money I refused. That bill was from his hidden stash.
Suspicious, I visited Grandpa’s friend Harrison, who revealed Grandpa gave the money to Michael to “help” me, a decision Harrison opposed. Michael had waited until Grandpa’s death to leave me, taking the inheritance. With Harrison’s lawyer, Logan, I confronted Michael. Threatened with a fraud lawsuit, he agreed to repay the money by liquidating his assets.
Using the recovered funds, I opened my own veterinary clinic, named in Grandpa’s memory. Harrison brought his Labrador on opening day, and Logan, now a friend, brought flowers and asked me to dinner. Two years later, we married. I keep that $100 bill with the smiley face in my wallet—a reminder of Grandpa’s love, Michael’s betrayal, and my journey to reclaiming my worth.
