They Called Me a Saint—Then Her Phone Exposed Who I Really Was

she needed comfort. Please, don’t ruin her memory. Have some respect.”

“Respect?” I whispered. “I was the nurse. I was the provider. While she was living a romance with someone else.”

I walked out.

It’s been three months now. The bills are paid. The house is quiet. People still post on her Facebook wall about what a “beautiful soul” she was. I don’t correct continue reading …