At 73, I Married My Dying High School Sweetheart as His Final Wish—After the Funeral, His Lawyer Knocked on My Door and Said, “You Walked Right Into His Trap”
We spoke in the building’s common lobby.
Public.
Cameras.
Not because I believed he was violent.
Because boundaries become easier with witnesses.
Raymond looked exhausted.
“Why are you treating me like a criminal?”
“I haven’t called you one.”