“Fine! Keep your stupid money!” he shouted, glaring at both of us. “I don’t need it! I don’t need either of you!“
Then he stormed out, slamming the big front door behind him so hard the walls rattled.
Silence returned, but this time it felt… peaceful.
I stared down at my trembling hands, trying not to cry, but when I looked up and met Martha’s kind, knowing eyes, the tears came.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered.
Martha smiled softly.
“You don’t have to say anything, Nadine. You earned it. You’ve been the best friend I could have ever asked for. No one deserves it more than you.“
I nodded, crying harder now.
Tears of sadness for the son I had lost. Tears of gratitude for the blessing I had gained.
It was bittersweet — maybe more bitter than sweet. But somehow, in that quiet moment, with Martha holding my hand, I knew I’d be okay.
