Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining
> a candlelight vigil by his side. She held his fragile hand, tears running
> down her face. Her praying roused him from his slumber; He looked up and
his
> pale lips began to move slightly. "Becky my darling" he whispered.
> "Hush my love," she said. "Rest, don't talk."
> He was insistent. "Becky," he said in his tired voice, "I have something
> that I must confess." There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping
> Becky, "Everything's all right, go to sleep."
> "No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I ... I
> slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your
mother!"
> I know, sweetheart," whispered Becky, "let the poison work.
> a candlelight vigil by his side. She held his fragile hand, tears running
> down her face. Her praying roused him from his slumber; He looked up and
his
> pale lips began to move slightly. "Becky my darling" he whispered.
> "Hush my love," she said. "Rest, don't talk."
> He was insistent. "Becky," he said in his tired voice, "I have something
> that I must confess." There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping
> Becky, "Everything's all right, go to sleep."
> "No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I ... I
> slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your
mother!"
> I know, sweetheart," whispered Becky, "let the poison work.
