My breath hitched. I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him about the advice the family doctor gave me, but the physician cut me off.

“What’s more concerning,” the doctor continued, his eyes drilling into mine, “is that we also found traces of a severe heart medication that he was prescribed secretly by a clinic two towns over six months ago.

He has an undiagnosed advanced heart condition. Sildenafil mixed with that medication is a lethal combination. Someone gave him that pill knowing—or not caring—that it could stop his heart.”

I froze, the room spinning around me. Garrett had a secret heart condition? He knew he was sick and never told me?

Before I could even process the betrayal and the horror of what I had accidentally done, the doctor stepped aside. Walking right behind him were two state troopers, their eyes locked onto me, their hands resting heavily on their utility belts.

“Ma’am,” the first officer said, his voice echoing in the quiet hallway. “We need you to come with us to the station for questioning regarding the attempted poisoning of your husband.”

Now, I am sitting in the back of a police cruiser, watching the hospital lights fade in the rearview mirror. I tried to save my marriage, but my husband’s secrets and my own desperation have ruined our lives forever. I don’t know if Garrett will ever forgive me, or if I will even be free to see him again.