On My Deathbed, She Wants a Confession
Shadow MazeAfter DeathTragic LoveFeel-Good StoryBiasMistressRegretWinning Back the Husband
It's my third year living with ALS, and my 11th day since losing the ability to speak completely. My wife, Renee Sutton, bursts into my hospital room with a lawyer and a notary in tow, gripping a so-called expert report that concludes all of my symptoms can be faked.
She throws it onto my bed.
"Miles, you're really a hell of an actor," she says. "You had me fooled for three years. Today, you're finally going to tell the truth."
I look at her and open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
She shoves a divorce agreement in front of me. "Sign it. Admit you faked your illness to swindle marital assets. You're not walking away with a single cent."
I look down at the pen, then at my right hand ly