Over the years, Robert had begun presenting himself as the sole owner.
I never argued.
I wanted a husband, not a competitor.
Mr. Harris carefully examined the documents and the company’s current records.
Then he said seriously:
“You’re not simply the wife of a wealthy man, Margaret. You’re the controlling shareholder of this company.”
I whispered:
“Then it’s time Robert remembered that.”
The lawyer explained my rights and the legal steps I could take.
That day, we began preparing the necessary documents.
But the most important decision was still ahead of me.
The restaurant was beautifully decorated.
Our friends, relatives, business partners, and two children were seated around elegant tables.
I wore a dark blue dress that I’d bought years earlier but that Robert had always forbidden me to wear.
When he saw me, his face twisted with disapproval.
“What on earth are you wearing? At your age, it’s embarrassing.”
I answered calmly:
“It’s my celebration too, Robert.”
He smirked. Halfway through dinner, my husband stepped onto the stage. He picked up the microphone.
“Dear guests, today marks forty-five years of our marriage.”
Everyone applauded. I smiled. But then Robert continued:
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I’ve put up with my wife for so many years.”
A few guests laughed.
“I’ve worked hard, made a fortune, and built a home. Meanwhile, Margaret has done nothing but spend my money.”
He turned toward me.
“Come on, stand up, you useless old woman! Let everyone get a good look at you!”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.
My daughter turned pale. My son tried to intervene, but I stopped him with a gesture. Then I calmly stood up.
“Thank you, Robert. I’ve prepared a gift for you too.”
My husband laughed.
“I hope you didn’t buy it with my money again.”
I picked up a small red box from the table.
Inside was a key and a folded document.
“Open it.”
Robert u
