The elaborate lie took my breath away. Richard had constructed an entire fictional narrative around my death, complete with documentation and backstory. The level of premeditation was chilling.
“He played on my guilt,” Blaine continued. “Said you died believing I was too busy with work to notice how sick you were getting. That your last words were wondering why I hadn’t spent more time with you.”
Tears started flowing down my cheeks. “Blaine, no. I never said any of those things because I never had cancer. I was healthy as a horse that entire year.”
“I know that now, but at the time…” He shook his head. “It destroyed me, Glenda. The guilt, the grief, the regret. I couldn’t work, couldn’t think straight. Richard stepped in and handled everything. The funeral arrangements, the business decisions, the legal paperwork. I was grateful to have him take care of things.”
