Whatever she was hiding had been weighing on her for years.
Then a terrible possibility crossed my mind.
Susan had been unusually close to Robert.
He’d trusted her.
She knew his routines, his habits, and countless details about our marriage.
And she’d remained by my side throughout the months after his death.
I slowly turned toward her.
“Susan, I need you to answer one question.”
She looked at me.
“Please.”
I hesitated.
Then asked the question I’d suddenly become afraid to say aloud.
“Does this have something to do with Robert?”
Susan closed her eyes.
Her shoulders dropped.
And a tear rolled down her cheek.
She didn’t say yes.
She didn’t say no.
But after forty-two years of friendship, I knew her expressions better than anyone.
And the look on her face told me that my husband’s name was at the center of the secret she’d been hiding.
