She didn’t tell him she was terminally ill. He didn’t tell her that he knew she was terminally ill. Because of love. She found out that he knew, and kept that a secret too; because of love.
A web of deceit or a tangle of love?
Is love more important than truth?
She concealed the truth to be kind. He too was bound by a code of silence so that she would feel secure -her secret safe. She didn’t tell him -and he didn’t tell her, because neither of them wanted to admit – to themselves or to the other – how in love they really were. Their ‘to death shall us part’ had taken on a new meaning, and found a new depth.
The plot thickened. Both confided in the same friend. Both withheld the knowledge from their son.
A tangle of love or a web of deceit?
Is truth more important than love?