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With the help of Greg’s closest friend, I confirmed that Susan’s claims were untrue. Her children were her own, and her cruel words at the funeral had been born of bitterness, not truth. In the days that followed, relief and sorrow blended together.
My marriage had not been a lie, but grief had forced me to question everything. I began writing my own journal, recording what truly happened so I would never forget the strength it took to seek truth in the middle of heartbreak. Greg had been imperfect, loving, and loyal in the ways that mattered, and his words in those journals reminded me of that devotion again and again.
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