Second Chance at a Broken Marriage

My wife, Sarah, was dead. The police called it an accident-a slip in the bathtub.

But I knew better. The will reading shattered my world: Sarah left everything to her daughter, Emily, the life insurance, the house, every penny. I was left with nothing.

Then came the final blow. Her last request was to be buried next to her ex-husband, Robert. A letter, stained with pink, revealed a suicide pact between them. "Some loves are meant to last forever," she wrote, a cruel blade twisting in the wound of my twenty-year marriage.