I stared at the man beside me.
He was smiling.
Actually smiling.
As though he’d just announced we’d won the lottery.
“You let me arrange your funeral,” I whispered.
His smile faded slightly.
“I know that was difficult.”
“Difficult?”
My voice rose.
“I watched you collapse while I was wearing my wedding dress! I stood in a hospital while someone told me you were gone!”
Several passengers turned toward us.
Karl looked embarrassed.
“Please stop shouting.”
“I spent days crying over you. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I thought I’d lost my husband forever!”
“I said I’m sorry.”
He leaned closer.
“But once you understand how much money we’re talking about, you’ll realize it was worth it.”
I stared at him.
Worth it?
He’d measured my grief against a bank balance.
And decided the money mattered more.
“You didn’t do this for me,” I said quietly.
