Eleanor was a gentle, proud woman. She had been widowed early and lived alone in a modest one-bedroom apartment in the next city. She never complained and never asked for help.
But Craig worried about her.
My family, on the other hand, had been fortunate. My parents had built a comfortable life through smart investments and good timing. They even paid for our wedding and spoiled our dog, Prada, with monthly toy boxes.
Craig used to joke that I had a “golden touch.”
Back then, I thought he meant it with love.
About a year into our marriage, Craig suggested something.
“Are you sure, Tatiana?” he asked one evening. “If we start this, we’ll have to keep doing it… probably forever.”
We agreed to send his mother money every month.
Two hundred dollars each—$400 total.
