My Final Gift: A Heart for My Betrayer
Before my death, I repeatedly remind my son, Clark Sinclair, what to do after I pass away. I stress that my heart must be donated to my husband, Craig Sinclair. He has suffered from dilated cardiomyopathy for 30 years. This is the last thing I can do for him.
Clark shakes me off impatiently and snaps, "Enough. Stop pretending to be kind. Dad was never sick."
I think I must have misheard him. "What?"
He lets out a cold laugh and continues, "If you hadn't refused to divorce him all these years, why would he have needed to fake an illness just to be with Vern in secret?"
My whole body trembles as I demand proof.
Clark hands me a marriage certificate. On it are the names Craig and Verna Blo