I sat in a notary office, squeezing my hands on my knees. My husband has been dead for two months. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/76c883/620x0/1/0/2025/03/08/wbqm1mld1zguclem3qqv624dahth05paqt3grohw.jpg" alt = "from life taken." I lived with him for years, but only after his departure did I discovered the truth "Quot; styles = "background-color: rgba (111,111,111.0.93)" > < p > two months b & oacute; lu.

< p > two months, during which & oacute; I could not accept his empty place at the table, his clothes in the closet, its smell, which I still felt on the pillow.

< P >I was ready for everything & ndash; for subsequent tears, for a long mourning, for loneliness.

< p > but not.

< p > notary looked at me coldly, as if he had no good news for me.

< p > — The will was made a year ago. The whole property of Mr. Andrzej falls to his mother.

< p > my heart stood.

< p > — I listen ?

< p > — All. House, savings, car & oacute; d & hellip;

< p > I didn't understand.

< p > — But & hellip; But this is M & Amp; Oacute; Jer. Our house. Our life & hellip;

< p > When I left the office, with my hands I still clenched a thin envelope with a copy of the will.

< p > I couldn't breathe.

< p > We made love. After all, we were a family.

< p > so why never told me that he wrote everything to his mother ?

< p > — You know how he loved you & Hellip; & Amp; MDASH; The mother -in -law said when I came to her with these documents.

< p > — He loved ? — I smiled bitterly. & Amp; MDASH; That's why he left me without anything ?

< p > — You exaggerate & hellip;

< p > — I exaggerate ?! & Amp; MDASH; I felt anger for the first time in months. & Amp; MDASH; We were married! And I have nothing now!

< p > sighed and looked at me with pity.

< p > — You may have been, but you know & Hellip; Mother is a mother.

< p > that day I realized that I was only someone next to.

< p > I trusted my whole life to a man who & oacute; ry never really belonged to me.

< p > and now ?

< p > Now I had to learn to live with the awareness that everything I built belonged to someone else.

< p > that I had nothing.

< p > or his.

< p > nor our lives.

Natasha Kumar

By Natasha Kumar

Natasha Kumar has been a reporter on the news desk since 2018. Before that she wrote about young adolescence and family dynamics for Styles and was the legal affairs correspondent for the Metro desk. Before joining The Times Hub, Natasha Kumar worked as a staff writer at the Village Voice and a freelancer for Newsday, The Wall Street Journal, GQ and Mirabella. To get in touch, contact me through my natasha@thetimeshub.in 1-800-268-7116