"What would you like on the gravestone?" The man was asking for the second time.

Kevin was distracted by messages on his phone. But the words finally broke through to him and so he said "She died doing what she loved.” He did not bother to take his eyes off his phone to respond.

They weren’t really her last words. But he could not tell the funeral director what they were.

The funeral director, a man in his late sixties, who looked well worn with large bags under his eyes, nodded his head in agreement while typing the words on a keyboard under his desk.

The statement was not a total lie. She had died doing what she loved, just not the way she loved.

"What the hell Kevin?” wouldn’t go too well with the police after all.

Two weeks earlier, Kevin had woken up at two in the morning. His bladder felt very heavy and he needed to empty it immediately. The urgency of it was uncharacteristic. He was a very heavy sleeper who usually slept through anything. He threw the weighted blanket he used nightly off him and walked half asleep to the ensuite bathroom.

Afterwards, a thought occurred to him to check his phone to see what the London and Tokyo sessions of the market were doing. His heart dropped to his guts like an airplane crashing into the rocky mountains. EVERYTHING WAS RED!! This was Armageddon in his world! He did not have to check his emails. He knew if a miracle didn't happen today, he was getting a margin call before the day was over. He had a margin loan of over $30,000,000, more than ten times his actual account value. If his wife found out, she was definitely going to divorce him. During couples' therapy she was blunt. "This is your last mess up, Kevin". She spat the words at him like he was a toddler, using the disciplinary voice she utilized with the kids. Kevin felt so small at that moment. He wished he could disappear into the paintings on their therapist's walls.

Staring at the flurry of Yahoo Finance news that were on his home screen, he felt sick.

Suddenly, he was overcome by the urge to both throw up and defecate. He rushed to the bathroom, holding his right hand over his mouth as bile and last night's dinner trickled through his fingers.

He closed the bathroom door afterwards, in order not to wake up his wife, who was a light sleeper. He walked back to the sink, turned on the tap and splashed ice cold water on his face. He was wide awake now and he already knew what had to be done.

The thought had been whispered to him by his subconscious during that fateful therapy session. Kevin grew up poor. He wasn't going back to that after the exquisite love affair he has been in with wealth for the last ten years. If his wife divorced him, he will be ruined, especially during a market downturn.

He received a very urgent message from his bowels that he needed to sit on the toilet bowl fast, otherwise risk the embarrassment of soiling himself. He rushed quickly towards the bowl, stripping his pajama pants down frantically. In the midst of his explosive diarrhea, Kevin made a life changing decision.