I knew things would change when I remarried, but I never expected my new wife, Gaby, to go after my late wife’s money. That money was meant for our daughters’ future, not hers. When she tried to pressure me into giving her access, it set off a chain of events she would never forget.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I sat in the living room, clutching an old photo of my late wife, Edith, and our daughters. In the picture, they were at the beach, smiling, their faces glowing with happiness. “I miss you, Ed,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the image. “The girls… they’re growing up so fast. I wish you could see them now.” It had been three years since cancer took Edith, and not a day went by that I didn’t think about her.

Just then, a soft knock on the door snapped me back to the present. It was my mother, peeking her head in, her face lined with concern.

“Charlie, honey, you can’t keep living in the past. I know it’s been hard, but it’s been three years now. You need to think about the future. The girls need a mother figure,” she urged gently, sitting beside me on the couch.

I sighed, setting the photo down. “Mom, we’re doing fine. The girls are okay. I’m okay.”

She gave me a knowing look. “But they’re growing up, Charlie. And you can’t do this all alone. What about that nice woman from your office? Gabriela? She seems like a good fit for the family.”

I rubbed my temples. “Gaby? She’s just a coworker, Mom.”

My mother raised her eyebrows. “And a single mother, like you’re a single father. It might be worth giving her a chance, for the girls’ sake.”

Her words lingered in my mind long after she left. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to consider moving forward.

Fast forward a year, and Gaby had become a part of our lives. We had gotten married, and for the most part, things were going well. My daughters seemed to like her, and she did a good job of stepping in as a mother figure. But something still felt… off.