Our family trailer was engulfed in flames, but the real shock came when a metal box found among the ashes unveiled secrets long hidden

Leo, who had been holding back his frustration, threw his arms up.

“YEAH, WE FOUND THE LETTERS,” he practically yelled. “And let me tell you—what a plot twist!

You’ve been sitting on a freaking soap opera, Richard!” He turned toward Patricia.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Patricia didn’t blink. Instead, she pulled out one of the letters, unfolded it, and read the first line out loud.

“To my dearest Richard, the only man I have ever truly loved…”

The words hung in the air like heavy smoke.

“Who is George?”

Patricia demanded, her fingers tightening around the letter.

Silence stretched between them. Richard’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white.

Then, with the calmness of a man who had just lost every poker chip in a game he never wanted to play, he sighed.

“George… was very dear to me.” His voice was steady, but his expression betrayed the vulnerability beneath.

Lorraine groaned and downed the rest of her wine in one gulp. “Oh, for God’s sake, Richard.”

A long silence filled the room, the weight of forty-two years of secrets pressing down like an invisible force.

Richard sat back, running a hand through his thinning hair. “I loved George,” he admitted, his voice raw.

“But I chose this family. I wanted to be the man society expected me to be. And I stayed, for better or worse.”

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