I Haven't the Heart

I haven't the heart to tell him. I love him so much I haven't the heart to steal away his pride.
To tell him that the other day the insurance company called.

I was in the kitchen cooking dinner. At first I hadn't thought I'd heard them correctly. It couldn't be. You loved the life of a salesman. It had to be an accident...the power steering. I asked them what they meant. They said they had evidence; a woman had witnessed it. I wanted so badly not to believe it was true.

That's why dinner was burned the other night. I was so distracted. That damn car.
Every night I've laid in bed waiting for Willy to walk in the front door. I haven't the heart to take the car keys away from him; to steal away a man's right to drive.

And then there is that rubber hose. I found it tonight tucked away. I must have walked up and down the stairs with that piece in my hand a thousand times. But in the end. I hadn't the heart to take it away; to steal my husband's pride.

I haven't the heart.
I love you too dearly.