“She hates the idea that strangers might receive something from me after I’m gone. I understand that. I really do.”
He paused.
“But grief doesn’t give anyone permission to turn you into the villain.”
My breath caught.
Mark looked straight into the camera.
“Don’t protect me by letting her hurt you.”
Tears began sliding down my face.
“And don’t let Cecelia grow up hearing that her father was too confused or too weak to make his own choices.”
I hit pause.
The room went silent.
“You knew.”
My voice sounded strange.
I stood.
“You knew this might happen.”
Anger rose through the grief.
“And you didn’t tell me.”
I pressed both hands over my belly.
“I was your wife, Mark. You didn’t have to protect me from everything.”
It was the first time I had been angry with him since he died.
The anger frightened me.
