At 35, I married my wealthy 72-year-old boss so my daughter and I wouldn’t end up homeless. After he died, his lawyer looked at me and said, “He prepared this trap specifically for you… and he knew you would fall into it.”

I’d never seen Richard nervous before.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look all right.”

He smiled.

“Come with me.”

He led me to the study.

One afternoon, I walked into the living room and stopped.

Richard was on his hands and knees.

Emily was sitting on his back.

“Faster!” she shouted.

Richard looked at me.

“Nora, your daughter is trying to kill me.”

Emily giggled.

“You’re a horse!”

“I was a respectable businessman before you came here.”

“Horse!”

Richard sighed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I couldn’t stop laughing.

Another afternoon, I found him sitting at Emily’s tiny table drinking imaginary tea.

She handed him a plastic cup.

“Sugar?”

“Two.”

“Milk?”

“A little.”

She pretended to pour.

Richard took a sip.

“Excellent.”

Then Emily looked at me.

“Mommy, Richard is funny.”

I smiled.

“Yes, he is.”

Richard looked at me.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.