🕯️ He’s Gone… But It Wasn’t Just Grief That Broke Me
When Jason died in that sudden, violent crash, my world fractured. But the deepest cut didn’t come from the loss itself—it came from the betrayal of someone who should have stood with me: his mother.
We had only been married for two years, but Jason loved me—and my children, Ava and Noah—as if they were his own. He never tried to take their father’s place. He simply showed up. Whether it was pancakes on Sunday or fixing Noah’s busted bike, he wove himself into our lives with care and purpose.
But to Eleanor, I was nothing more than baggage. She never said it directly—except once. I heard her one day, voice sharp over the phone:
“She tricked him into it. Those aren’t even his kids.”
I stood in the hallway, dishes still in hand, too stunned to move.
When I told Jason, he didn’t defend her. He just wrapped his arms around me and said, “You and the kids are my family. That’s it.”
We moved. He made it clear: accept us or stay away. She chose distance.
⚰️ Grief Hit—Then Came Her Rage
