I’m 64, a widow of 22 years, and last year I found love again. Rey, 48, is kind, steady, and recently proposed. But when I told my kids, they accused him of chasing my money.
They gave me an ultimatum: put everything in their names or lose them. I refused. That night, my son sat outside my house in the dark, saying coldly, “If you choose him, you’re choosing him over us.”
I raised three kids alone after my husband Alfredo died. I worked two jobs, paid off the house, and put them through college. Now, when I finally found happiness, they treated me like I’d lost my mind. I called a lawyer and learned everything I owned was safe, but my heart still ached. At brunch, I told them: “I love you, but I won’t be bullied. If you have concerns, talk to me. Don’t threaten me.” Mateo stormed out, Salena followed, and Lisette whispered, “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
