My brother drove his wife to desperation then the unthinkable happened
My brother had always been my role model.
Since we were kids, I looked up to my older brother, Pierre.
To me he was simultaneously a mentor, a protector, and a person to emulate.
When I got married, he gave me this advice:
Remember one thing, little brother. Never tell your wife how much money you have. If you let her know, shell drain your pockets. Keep her on a leash; dont let her spend!
At first the warning sounded extreme to me.
But Pierre was five years older, already married, and I assumed he knew what he was talking about.
Fortunately, my wife Claire wasnt that kind of woman.
She didnt chase brands, never asked for expensive gifts, and didnt dream of a lavish lifestyle.
Over time, however, our lives drifted apart from my brothersour spouses didnt get along, and Pierre became consumed by his business.
I played in an orchestra, while he owned farms and land.
Whenever I saw him, I braced myself for criticism.
Pierre always found a reason to lecture me.
Money above family
He kept repeating, almost like a family game:
Youre irresponsible! Why do you live paycheck to paycheck? Why let your wife waste money on trifles?
I never argued, but his words cut deep.
After those talks I tried to save, only to forget quickly and fall back into old habits.
Pierre had a daughter, Amélie, whom he treated almost like a prisoner.
No pocket money, no fashionable clothes, no makeupshe grew up under strict austerity.
Sometimes she visited us, and Claire would slip her a bit of cash in secret.
At sixteen, Amélie ran away simply to escape her fathers grip.
Pierre even claimed it was just desserts, saying it was his fault for not protecting her.
But the worst part I later witnessed
Vacations turned into torment
Two years ago we planned a family trip to the seaside, and I saw everything.
My brother hounded his wife over every cent.
Another coffee? Cant you make it at home?
A pizza? Youre crazy, its too pricey!
What ice cream for the kids? Let them drink water!
He monitored every expense, every euro, every receipt.
Walking with him along the promenade was impossible.
My kids, like any other, wanted cotton candy, balloons, souvenirs
Pierre merely frowned and muttered:
Youll ruin your parents, understand?
Even though he had far more money than I did, he was terrified of spending it.
Claire finally had enough and said:
Lets stay here a few more days, without them.
I agreed.
That night Pierre left with his wife, eager to attend an agricultural equipment auction.
The next morning I got a call
Theyd been in an accident.
After that, everything changed for me.
They say he fell asleep at the wheel.
I lost my brother.
Since then Ive become a different man.
I no longer squirrel away money for old age.
I dont obsess over the cost of a coffee.
I buy gifts for my children, nice things for my wife, fine suits for myself.
Yes, money is necessary,
but whats the point of hoarding it without actually living?
Clinging to cash as if you could take it to the grave is absurd.
The real priority is not losing the people you love, because theyre irreplaceable.
Money doesnt matter.
