When my father passed away, his will came with an unexpected twist: an inheritance tied to staying married for five years. At first, I thought it would be easy to stick it out. After all, my marriage with Ted had always been a challenge, but it was what it was.
I didn’t realize, though, how much darker things would get—how my husband’s secrets and my brother’s schemes would destroy everything I thought I knew.
The lawyer’s office felt heavier the moment the will was opened. I could feel my chest tightening, like the air itself had thickened, and breathing became more difficult with every word he spoke. Outside, the rain hammered against the window, its steady rhythm mimicking the pounding of my heart.
There was a cold cup of coffee, forgotten on the desk, an odd detail that only made everything feel stranger, more surreal.
The lawyer’s voice droned on, but I wasn’t really listening anymore. His words turned into a blur.
“Farm… house… bank accounts… watch collection…”
And then, the condition.
Of course, there was a condition.
“To my children, Jen and Henry, on the condition that both remain married for the next five years. Any divorce during this period will forfeit one party’s share, leaving the full estate to the other.”
I turned toward Henry, my brother. He was leaning back in his chair, looking smug, his fingers drumming slowly on the armrest. His smirk was a punch to my gut.
Sarah, his wife, sat beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. They looked so calm, like they could breeze through this without a problem. It wasn’t fair.
I shifted my gaze to Ted. My husband. He was sitting with his eyes fixed on some far-off point, his jaw clenched tight. If guilt had a face, it would look exactly like his.
Months ago, I’d discovered his affair. It had been a bomb waiting to go off. I’d been trying to defuse it, trying to make sense of it all—until this moment.
As we walked out of the office, Henry sidled up next to me, his hands in his pockets, his voice dripping with mock casualness.
“Well, sis,” he drawled, his smirk widening. “Looks like Dad wanted us to play nice. Not that I mind. Sarah and I are solid. But you…” He trailed off, his eyes studying me like he knew something I didn’t.
“Think you’ve got what it takes to keep it together?” he asked, his voice sweet but cutting.
I bit back the sting of his words, my jaw tightening. “Don’t you have some gloating to do elsewhere, Henry?” I snapped.
He chuckled, tipping an imaginary hat.
“Touché. But seriously, good luck. You’ll need it.”
His words stung more than I cared to admit, but I didn’t say anything. This wasn’t a game we were prepared for, not by a long shot.
The next couple of weeks were a nightmare. It felt like I was walking a tightrope over a canyon, never sure if I was going to fall or make it to the other side. Evenings with Ted had turned into silent, cold exchanges. We spoke only when we had to.
“Dinner’s on the stove,” I said one night, my voice flat.
“Thanks,” Ted muttered, not even looking up from his phone.
The silence between us was suffocating. It wasn’t even a marriage anymore—it was a lifeless arrangement, stuck together by my father’s will, not love.
Most nights, I found myself staring out the window, gazing at the farm. The farm had always been my safe place, the one thing that had grounded me. I could still hear my father’s voice in my head, calm and steady, teaching me how to fix things, how to care for animals, how to keep things running when the world felt like it was falling apart.
Henry, though, had never cared for the farm. He’d always borrowed money for his parties, his expensive trips with Sarah. He’d never lifted a finger to help.
The thought of him inheriting it made my grip on my coffee mug tighten until it cracked in my hands.
Ted noticed. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.
“Fine,” I snapped, my tone sharper than I’d meant.
Ted, as usual, backed off, not pushing me any further.
Meanwhile, Henry didn’t seem to care about anything. He called me three times in one week, each conversation more irritating than the last. He sounded unnervingly cheerful.
“Just checking in, sis. How’s Ted?” he asked one time.
“Same as always,” I replied curtly.
“Great, great,” he said, like we were just chatting casually, like nothing was wrong.
Then, out of nowhere, he invited us to dinner.
Ted and I arrived at Henry’s house that Saturday evening, and it felt like stepping into a picture-perfect scene. The table was set with fine china, candles flickered in the dim light, and Sarah moved around with the grace of a woman trying to appear completely calm. But I could see it in her eyes. Her smile was forced.
Over dinner, Henry began talking about a “work trip” he was planning.
“Paris this time,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “Meetings, dinners, the usual grind.”
But Sarah couldn’t hold it in any longer. Without warning, she slammed her fork onto her plate, her voice shaking with emotion.
“Enough!” she shouted. “I know this trip isn’t about work! It’s just another excuse to run away from me!”
The room fell silent, and Sarah stood, her face red, tears in her eyes. “You think I don’t see it, Henry? Fine. We’re done.”
She stormed out, leaving the chair spinning behind her. Henry didn’t even flinch. It was almost like he’d expected it.
That night, after dinner, Henry showed up on my porch, a folder in hand, looking tired and defeated.
“Well, Jen,” he said with a dry chuckle, “you win. My marriage is over, but yours is still standing. I even bet on Sarah sticking around. Guess I lost that too.”
He looked so down that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Sarah kicked me out,” he added, sounding small.
The guilt gnawed at me. I hadn’t told anyone about Ted’s affair yet, and Henry was my brother, after all. I couldn’t just turn him away.
“Come in,” I said quietly. “I’ll let you stay in the guest house.”
As he walked away, I couldn’t shake the thought: Do I even want to win this game?
Henry moved into the guest house like he owned the place. He settled in quickly, making himself too comfortable for my liking. But I couldn’t throw him out. He had nowhere else to go, and despite everything, he was still my brother.
“Morning, sis!” he called one day, balancing a coffee cup and a piece of toast. “This place is nice, but it could use a hot tub. You know, something to make the evenings more relaxing.”
“Henry, you’re not staying here forever,” I snapped, wiping my hands on a towel.
“Who says I’m planning to?” he replied with a grin. “Just getting comfy while I figure things out.”
Watching him act like everything was normal made my stomach twist. Ted and I barely spoke. His absence from the house had become the new normal.
One morning, after yet another night of him not coming home, I waited for him in the kitchen. He walked in, his clothes wrinkled, his face drawn and tired.
“We need to talk,” I said coldly.
He sat down at the table without saying a word.
“I’m filing for divorce. And don’t even bother pretending. I know about the affair.”
“I won’t argue,” Ted said quietly. “You deserve better than this.”
My heart pounded. “That’s it? No excuses? No trying to fix this?”
Ted shook his head. “What’s left to fix, Jen? We both know this has been over for a while.”
The divorce went by so quickly. I let Ted have everything—our house, our furniture, the photos, the memories. It was easier to walk away than to stay in a marriage that had already crumbled.
I packed my bags and left behind the shell of a life I once had, moving back to the farm.
But when I got there, something hit me like a punch to the gut. Henry was standing on the porch, a champagne glass in hand, surrounded by friends, all of them laughing.
Henry’s grin was victorious, like he’d already won. He swirled the champagne in his glass, his eyes gleaming with a malicious sort of triumph.
“You thought I divorced Sarah for real?” he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. “That we’d throw everything away for nothing?”
The truth hit me like a ton of bricks. “You knew about Ted,” I whispered, my heart sinking.
“Oh, of course,” Henry said smoothly. “Sarah saw him with his secretary months ago. We figured we’d help you along… give you a little push.”
“You staged the whole thing?!” I gasped, the anger rising in my chest.
He shrugged, that same smug grin on his face. “You played your part perfectly, sis. Didn’t even question it. So predictable.”
I felt rage boiling inside me. “You used me.”
“Don’t take it personally,” he said with a wink. “It’s just business, Jen. And now, it’s all mine.”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Henry…”
He waved me off. “Relax. The farm’s boring. Stay here if you want.”
In that moment, I realized just how much I’d lost. I had nothing left. My family, my marriage, my future—gone.
Henry’s celebration didn’t last. The next day, he vanished, leaving the house empty. I wandered the halls, running my fingers over the furniture, the pictures, the books my father had loved.
I ended up in the library, standing in front of the shelves. My father’s voice came to me, as clear as day.
“This book is keeping a secret,” he’d always say with a smile, pointing to the top shelf. “One day, you’ll be tall enough to find it.”
I reached for the book now, pulling it down from the shelf. Dust flew into the air as I opened it, and an envelope slipped out. My name was written on the front in his handwriting.
“What now, Dad?” I whispered, the tears already forming.
I opened the letter. It read:
“Jen, honey,
Inheritance is more than just things. It’s what you build around you. I hope you’ll make the right choice. The estate belongs to the one brave enough to leave behind illusions for the sake of truth.
I knew both your and Henry’s marriages were on the brink. But I trust you to see past the lies. If the farm is yours now, don’t abandon your brother. He deserves a second chance.
Love, Dad.”
I sat there, clutching the letter, feeling the weight of his words. The anger inside me began to shift, melting into something softer.
Later, I called the lawyer.
“Is it true? There’s another clause?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“Yes. The farm is yours, Jen,” he confirmed.
Weeks passed. My father’s words stayed with me, gnawing at my soul. Henry wasn’t just my rival—he was my brother. And when he showed up, broke and humbled, I didn’t turn him away.
“Let me guess,” I said, crossing my arms. “You need help.”
Henry looked down, his expression sheepish. “You were right. I messed up. But Jen, I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
I sighed. “You can stay. But you’re working for it. Every day.”
“Deal,” he said quickly. “Thanks, sis.”
It was hard at first, but slowly, things began to change. Henry worked hard, surprising me in ways I didn’t expect. He met Lyra, a kind woman who brought out the best in him.
One evening, as we sat on the porch watching the sunset, Henry turned to me with a smile.
“You were always the better one, Jen,” he said.
I laughed softly. “We both were. That’s what Dad wanted.”
