“My Husband Filed for Divorce Right After I Inherited My Mom’s Fortune – He Thought He Hit the Jackpot, but My Mom Outsmarted Him”

My husband Peter unexpectedly turned into the most loving and helpful man on the planet after my mother passed away and gave me her whole fortune. However, he decided he no longer wanted to live with me after I refused to allow him squander my fortune. The next event that happened completely upended his life.

I’ve always known my mother was intelligent.

She could read people like open books and was always one step ahead of those around her. However, it wasn’t until she was gone and her last chess move left everyone stunned that I realized how far ahead she had prepared.

Over the past few years, my relationship with Mom had become more complex.

Despite my best efforts, I was unable to completely overcome the space between us. She never really approved of my husband, Peter, which was part of the issue. Her feelings were very evident in various ways, but she never expressed them explicitly.

Every time Peter spoke his ambitious ideas or aspirations for the future, Mom would become silent during our visits. When he brought up the need for funding for this project or that investment possibility, she would raise her eyebrows.

Her inquiries always seemed more like assertions, as if she was already aware of the answers and disapproved of what she had learned.

“Mom, why can’t you just be happy for me?” Once, after a particularly stressful supper, I questioned her.

“I am happy when you’re truly happy, sweetheart,” she said thoughtfully. “I just want to make sure you’re seeing the whole picture.”

“He’s not perfect, but he’s who I chose,” I said defensively to her. “Can’t you just accept that?”

She and I didn’t argue. The way she looked at me gave me the impression that she could see chess moves that I couldn’t possibly fathom. It was simultaneously reassuring and frustrating.

All she could say was, “I love you, Alice,” “More than you know.”

She seemed overly protective to me. Perhaps even dominating. I assumed that all mothers found it difficult to let their daughters make their own decisions, particularly when those decisions weren’t ideal.

I was saddened when Mom unexpectedly passed away after a heart attack.

I was more affected by the grief than I had anticipated. There were a lot of unresolved talks between us. There was too much room between us that would never be occupied.

I felt bad about every quarrel and every time I had put Peter’s feelings ahead of our time together.

However, a few weeks after the funeral, I received a call from Mom’s attorney with news that would change my life.

“Your mother left you everything, Alice,” he added softly. “The house, her savings, and her retirement accounts. It’s very substantial.

I was taken aback. I had never known Mom was rich, but she had been comfortable. The entire amount inherited exceeded $400,000.

To be honest, I never thought I would have this much money.

But it wasn’t only the outrageous sum of money I was about to get that caught me off guard. It was Peter’s response to this information.

He first came across as sincere in his support and concern.

“Your mom always knew how strong you were,” he said. “She was concerned about your well-being. Babe, you deserve this.

He then began offering ideas for how I may spend the money I would receive.

Nevertheless, I believed he was attempting to assist me in making sense of everything and making plans for our future together.

He said, “Baby, you know what we should do?” during breakfast one morning. Perhaps it’s time for us to exchange your old vehicle for a new one. You’re deserving of a great car.

“My car runs fine, Peter,” I asserted. “I don’t need a new one right now.”

“However, we could buy something truly nice with the inheritance. Perhaps a BMW? The Mercedes you’ve always adored, perhaps?

I felt uneasy by his desire for some reason, but I ignored it. Perhaps all he was doing was trying to look after me.

The suggestions for a trip followed.

A few days later, Peter declared, “I found this amazing beach house we could rent for the entire summer.” The two of us alone. That sounds ideal, doesn’t it? We could both take a break from work and unwind.

I remarked, “That sounds expensive,” with caution.

“What the heck? Now you can afford it. Life should be enjoyed while it lasts.

The housing ideas followed.

One evening during dinner, he suggested, “We ought to consider moving, Alice.” This small kitchen is something you’ve always detested. Let’s look for a home that truly brings you joy. Something with a large yard, possibly a swimming pool.

On the surface, each suggestion made sense, but there was something off about his strategy. When he discussed spending the money, his eyes were hungry.

I told him, “Peter, I need time to think about all this,” “It’s a lot of money, and I want to be smart about it.”

His eyebrows shot up as he asked, “Smart about it?” “This is our opportunity to live the life we’ve always desired, Alice. What’s causing your hesitation?

“Because, Peter, it’s not ‘our’ money. I own it. It was bequeathed to me by my mother.

I didn’t want for the words to sound harsh, but they were accurate. And I could tell everything I needed to know about Peter’s thoughts just by looking at his face.

At that point, his entire outlook entirely transformed.

Overnight, the kind, helpful spouse vanished.

I no longer get coffee in the morning from Peter. He no longer inquired about my day. I stopped getting accolades about how strong I was and how much I earned the inheritance.

In order to “give me space to process everything” and avoid “intruding on my grief,” he began sleeping in the guest room.

However, I was aware of the reality. I refused to let Peter spend my mother’s money, which infuriated him.

I was unaware of the silent storm of rage that was building inside his thoughts. A storm that would completely upend our way of life.

We found out about the inheritance precisely three weeks prior to the explosion. Peter unexpectedly dropped his bombshell when he entered the kitchen where I was preparing dinner.

Quite bluntly, “I think we should separate,” he stated.

I put my wooden spoon down and looked up at him. His attitude was icy, as if he were speaking to a complete stranger rather than his eight-year wife.

“Separate?” I said it again.

“Alice, this is no longer effective. Our desires are different. Since your mother passed away, you have changed.

“I’ve changed?” It nearly made me giggle. “Peter, you’ve been treating me like a bank account for the past month.”

“That’s not fair,” he angrily said. “My goal was to assist us in creating a better life for ourselves. However, you’re too self-centered to divulge anything.”

“Selfish?” I was becoming upset now. “My mother just died, and all you can think about is spending her money!”

He shrugged and remarked, “Well, maybe if we divorce, we’ll both be happier,”

I looked at him for a while. My mother believed the man I had protected to be just that, and I never once paid attention to her.

My heart broke into a million pieces at that idea.

“Okay,” I calmly said. “But there’s something you should know first.”

Peter’s brows lifted. He had anticipated that I would plead, weep, or fight for our union.

“What?” he inquired dubifully.

After making my way to our home office, I took a folder out of the safe. I had hardly looked at the documentation from my mother’s attorney when I was grieving.

I now knew why Mom’s attorney had urged that I carefully read everything.

I went back to the kitchen and gave Peter the folder by sliding it across the counter.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Read the highlighted section.”

The handwritten addition to my mother’s will was discovered by Peter when he opened the binder. Two years prior to her passing, it was dated, notarized, and official.

As he read the sentences out loud, his face turned pale.

“My daughter will not be eligible to inherit anything if she was married at the time of my death unless and until she gets formally divorced. No part of my estate may be accessed or claimed by my husband or any other third party.

His voice trembled slightly as he said, “You mean…” “If we divorce, you get the money?”

I affirmed, “Every single penny,” However, neither of us would receive a dime if we remained married. Instead, the entire estate would be donated to a worthy cause.

Peter looked at the page as if it had betrayed him directly.

It was “your mother planned this,” he muttered. “She…”

“She certainly did. Actually, two years ago. Do you recall when you first began approaching her for loans?

His eyes were wide as he gazed at me. We both understood exactly what I was referring to.

The next month, we filed for divorce.

No apologies or arguments took place. No efforts to keep our marriage intact. Although everything was discreet, there was a lot of paperwork involved with our divorce.

I remodeled Mom’s old house and moved in after everything was finished and I had all she had left me. I also traveled alone to Greece and Italy, which I had always fantasized about.

Peter is most likely still attempting to understand how things went so wrong for him in the meantime.

However, I already know the solution.

Long before I did, Mom recognized his true character. When money came into the equation, she knew exactly what would happen. And when that time came, she made sure I would be safe.

Regards, Mom. In many ways, you saved my life.