My son won the lottery, kicked me out of the house, and said: “You’re worthless! Go live in a nursing home.” I wandered aimlessly to clear my mind. When I sat down on a bench, a homeless man walked up to me, smiled, and said: “You look just like my late wife…”

We’d won the first battle, but the war was just beginning.

The call came on a Tuesday morning in early May. 3 months after Blaine and I had found each other again, I was getting ready for my shift at the cafe when my cheap cell phone rang with an unknown number.Read Wellness Tips

For a moment, I considered ignoring it. We’d been getting harassment calls from Richard’s friends and business associates ever since news of the lawsuit had started spreading through town, but something made me answer.

“Mom.”

Richard’s voice was barely recognizable, horsearo, and shaky.

“Mom, please, I need to talk to you.”

My first instinct was to hang up immediately. But Blaine, who’d been listening from across our small room, shook his head and gestured for me to keep talking.

“What do you want, Richard?”

“I want to explain. I want to make this right.” He sounded like he was crying, which would have moved me once upon a time. Now it just made me suspicious. “Can we meet somewhere? Just you and me?”