Chapter 5: Grief and Grit

In the end, I scraped together the money for the surgery, but I still couldn’t save my wife. On her deathbed, she held my hand and said, “Charlie, don’t blame yourself. Tony’s a vicious, heartless man—he’s not worth your kindness, not even your anger. Take care of the kids, stay far away from Tony. Don’t make things harder for yourself, don’t run yourself into the ground.”

Her voice was a whisper, but those words cut deep. I squeezed her hand and promised, through tears, that I’d try.

I lay beside her hand and wept bitterly. I had just come to terms with my parents’ deaths, and now I had to say goodbye to the woman I loved. When the sun rose, I had lost another family member.

The house felt emptier than ever that morning. Even Daisy seemed to sense it, curling up by the front door and refusing to move. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at old family photos, wondering how I’d ever pull us through.

Tony, acting like a man but living like a dog, opened his own logistics company, while I sold off everything I owned and was still left drowning in debt. I knew I couldn’t do anything reckless—I still had a son, a daughter, and my wife’s elderly mother to care for. But I secretly made up my mind: Sooner or later, I’d settle the score with Tony.

Every bill I paid off was another step closer. I kept a quiet tally, not out of revenge, but for the sake of my own dignity.