I told Greg I’d “think about it,” but instead, I returned with a plan. I offered to write the check—but only if they signed a contract promising to repay every cent within a year. The mood shifted immediately. Greg protested. Becca scoffed. They had counted on my silence, not a boundary. When Greg pushed back, I calmly pulled out a second document: divorce papers. I told him, “If you can’t protect Ava’s future, I will—with or without you.”
Greg moved out two weeks later. Becca’s wedding was held, but it was a more modest affair, funded by others. Ava and I weren’t invited, but we didn’t need to be. I had kept my promise to her father, and she knew it. That night, Ava hugged me tightly—grateful that I chose her future over keeping peace in a broken home.
