At My Husband’s Funeral, His Mistress Sat in the Front Row—Then the Priest Read His Final Letter

“I’ll ask her to move,” he said.

“No,” I whispered.

My whole body was shaking, but I would not give that woman the satisfaction of seeing me break.

The priest stepped to the pulpit with a sealed envelope in his hand.

“Before Arthur passed,” he said, “he left me a letter to read today. He said it must be read before the eulogy, with everyone present.”