Part 2: My millionaire husband left me nothing in his will after 48 years of marriage except a note with an address — when I arrived there, what I saw made me fall to my knees.

For the silence.

For the cowardice.

For every ordinary day when I could have told you the truth and chose not to.

I loved you. That was always real.

Thomas.

I lowered the letter.

For a moment, I heard nothing but the ticking of a clock.

Then I whispered:

“Where is Julian?”

Mr. Harrison took a breath.

“He runs a woodworking and youth education center on the east side of town.”

I stared.

“A what?”

“A workshop. He teaches teenagers carpentry, furniture restoration, and practical skills. Some of the young people come from foster care or unstable homes.”

Something twisted inside me.

Thomas had spent the last three years donating large sums to programs for disadvantaged young people.

I'd always admired that.

Now I wondered whether every donation had been another secret.

“Does Julian know about me?”

Mr. Harrison nodded.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Since he was young.”

I closed my eyes.