That was why he hid money, rented hotel rooms, and deflected questions. His silence wasn’t betrayal—it was fear, a desperate effort to protect me from carrying a burden he couldn’t share.
A few days later, a letter arrived in Troy’s handwriting. He explained everything plainly, writing, “You did nothing wrong. You made your choice with the truth you had. I loved you the best way I knew how.”
I held that letter for a long time. I’d lost him twice—once to illness, once to silence. I learned that lies can protect, fear can deceive, and love filtered through fear can still end in heartbreak.
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