My grandmother passed just as we started planning the wedding. She had raised me, been my greatest supporter, and the one person who never made me question my worth. Her death left a crater in my heart. She always promised to look after me, even when she was gone—and true to her word, she left me $500,000.

I cried when the lawyer read her will. Not because of the money, but because she remembered. She always remembered.

Jake’s family, on the other hand? They remembered something else entirely—themselves.

Denise, his mother, caught wind of my inheritance, and suddenly, she was all smiles and thinly veiled “suggestions.” At Sunday dinner, she slipped me an envelope like it was some precious letter of condolence. I expected a card.

Instead, I got a list.

A shopping list