For nearly twenty years, he was more than just my partner—he was a central part of my life. We never married or had children, but our bond felt complete. When birth control issues arose, he chose a vasectomy without hesitation—a quiet act of devotion to the life we had built together.

That life unraveled when I discovered his affair. Heartbroken, I left. Within six months, he married the other woman. It was a painful contrast to the trust and loyalty I thought we shared. Yet, life moved on. A year into dating my current boyfriend, I became pregnant. Though unexpected, we embraced it—and our love, and our family, flourished.

Then came the shock. My ex died suddenly in a car accident. Even more shocking was what followed: I was named the primary beneficiary of his estate. Though he had married and was expecting a child with his wife, he had left most of his assets to me. A letter arrived soon after—his handwriting unmistakable. In it, he apologized, confessed he had been manipulated, and said his marriage wasn’t built on love.

He asked me not to feel guilt—only to accept what he couldn’t say while alive. His family and wife were furious, bombarding me with calls and accusations. I blocked them, needing peace. I accepted the inheritance, knowing it would give my daughter a better future. I never went to his funeral—but I did visit his grave, whispering goodbye. Still, I wonder: did I do the right thing?