When Greg suggested using Ava’s college fund money her late father left to pay for his daughter Becca’s wedding, I was stunned. He spoke so casually, like it was nothing, and Becca just sat there, smug and silent, as if she’d been expecting it. That fund wasn’t just money it was David’s final gift to Ava, a promise that her future would be secure.

And now Greg wanted to use it for flowers, a dress, and a venue for someone who had never treated Ava or me as family. I didn’t argue. I told him I’d “think about it.” But really, I was preparing. Two days later, I sat them both down.

I agreed but with a condition: they’d sign a contract to repay every cent within a year. Greg balked. Becca scoffed. But I was calm. And then I laid down the second paper: divorce papers. “If you won’t protect my daughter’s future, I will. With or without you.”

Greg moved out two weeks later. Becca’s wedding went ahead smaller, funded by others. Ava and I weren’t invited. That night, Ava hugged me and whispered, “Thank you for choosing me.” “I always will,” I told her. David’s gift is safe. And Ava’s future? Still wide open.