As he lay on his deathbed, the man looked weakly toward his wife, who was sitting quietly beside him.
The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock and the sound of his tired breathing.
He reached for her hand and whispered, “Before I go, there’s something I need to tell you.”
His wife leaned closer.
“What is it?”
He swallowed hard.
“I cannot die without telling you the truth.”
She watched him calmly, waiting.
He took a shaky breath and continued, “I cheated on you throughout our whole marriage.”
His wife didn’t move.
“All those nights when I told you I was working late,” he said, “I wasn’t at the office. I was with other women.”
He paused, expecting tears, anger, maybe even forgiveness.
But she just kept looking at him.
“And it wasn’t just one woman either,” he admitted. “I’ve slept with dozens of them.”
For a moment, the room was completely still.
The man looked at his wife, surprised by how calm she seemed.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked weakly.
His wife gently placed his hand back on the blanket, looked him straight in the eyes, and said:
“Why do you think I gave you the poison?”