Priscilla Asked Dean ‘Did Elvis Love Me’—Dean’s Answer Made Her CRY For 45 Years

Priscilla Presley sat across from Dean Martin in a private booth at Muso and Frank Grill in Hollywood on September 3rd, 1977. It was 7:47 p.m. on a Saturday evening. 18 days after Elvis died. 18 days after August 16th, 18 days after everything changed, the restaurant was dimly lit, was quiet, was the kind of old Hollywood establishment where celebrities could sit without being bothered, where private conversations could happen, where grief could be processed without cameras, without interruption, without

performance. Priscilla had called Dean 2 days earlier, had asked to meet, had said she needed to talk to someone who knew Elvis, who really knew Elvis, who understood Elvis, who could answer questions, who could give her truth. Dean had agreed immediately, had suggested Muso and Frank, had made a reservation. May had arranged for a private booth, had prepared for this conversation, had known what Priscilla would ask, had known what she needed, had known this would be difficult. Priscilla looked terrible, looked like

she hadn’t slept in 18 days, looked like grief had consumed her, looked like a woman who’d lost her first love, her ex-husband, the father of her child, the most significant person in her life, even though they’d been divorced for 4 years, even though she’d moved on. Even though she’d built a life without him, Elvis’s death had devastated her, had destroyed her, had left her with questions she couldn’t answer. Questions only someone who really knew Elvis could answer. Dean was 59 years old, had known

Elvis for 17 years, had been Elvis’s friend, real friend, truthtelling friend. The friend who tried to save Elvis, who’d failed to save Elvis, who’d watched Elvis die slowly for years, who’d grieved Elvis’s death before Elvis died, who now sat across from Priscilla, preparing to answer questions he knew would destroy her. They ordered drinks. Priscilla ordered wine. Dean ordered Jack Daniels. They sat in silence for several minutes, both processing, both preparing, both knowing this

conversation mattered. Priscilla spoke first. Her voice was quiet, was shaking, was barely holding together. Dean, thank you for meeting me. Thank you for being willing to talk. Thank you for everything. I know you’re grieving, too. I know Elvis was your friend. I know this is hard for you, but I need to ask you something. need to know something. Need you to tell me truth. Can you do that? Can you be honest with me? Even if the truth is hard, even if it hurts, can you tell me the real truth about Elvis?

Dean looked at Priscilla, saw her desperation, saw her need, saw her breaking. I can tell you truth, I will tell you truth. Whatever you need to know, whatever questions you have, I’ll answer honestly. I promise. Ask me anything. Priscilla took a breath, steadied herself, asked the question she’d been carrying for 18 days. The question that had been destroying her, the question she needed answered. Did Elvis love me, really love me, or did he love being Elvis Presley more? Did he love me enough? Was I enough? Did I

matter to him? Did leaving him destroy him? Or did he not care? Did he die because I left? or would he have died anyway? Did he love me, Dean? Really love me? I need to know. I need the truth. Yeah. Did Elvis Presley love me? Before you hear Dean’s answer, understand this. What Dean said in response to Priscilla’s question would haunt her for 45 years, would haunt her for the rest of her life, would make her cry for decades, would change how she understood everything, would devastate her in ways she couldn’t anticipate,

would give her truth she needed but couldn’t handle, would answer her question completely and destroy her completely, both at once. This is what Dean said. said it looking directly at Priscilla. Said it with absolute honesty. Said it knowing it would hurt. Said it anyway because she’d asked for truth. Dean said this exactly. Priscilla, I’m going to tell you the complete truth. The whole truth. Everything I know. Everything Elvis told me. Everything I witnessed. Everything. And it’s going to hurt. It’s going to be

complicated. It’s going to be both beautiful and devastating. It’s going to answer your question and create more questions, but it’s the truth. The real truth. Are you ready? Are you sure you want to hear this? Priscilla nodded. I need to hear it. I need to know. Tell me everything. Dean took a drink, prepared himself, started speaking, started telling Priscilla the truth about whether Elvis loved her. Started with the answer. Started with the simple part. Started with what she needed to

hear first. Elvis loved you more than he loved anyone in his life. Loved you more than he loved his mother. Loved you more than he loved performing. Loved you more than he loved being Elvis Presley. Loved you more than anything. You were the love of his life. The person he wanted to be with forever. The person he built his dreams around. The person he loved completely. That’s the truth. That’s the answer to your question. Elvis loved you. Really loved you. Completely loved you more than

anything. That’s real. That’s true. That’s what you need to know first. Priscilla started crying, started feeling relief, started feeling validated, started feeling like maybe she’d mattered, maybe she’d been enough, maybe Elvis had really loved her. But Dean wasn’t finished. Dean kept talking, kept telling truth, kept explaining the complication. But here’s the rest of the truth. The part that’s harder, the part that’s more complicated, the part that’s going to hurt. Elvis loved you more than

anything. But he loved pills more than he loved life. He loved performing more than he loved surviving. He loved being Elvis Presley more than he loved being alive. So yes, he loved you more than anything, but he didn’t love you more than he loved dying. Does that make sense? He loved you completely, but he loved destruction more than he loved survival. He loved you perfectly, but he couldn’t choose you over pills. He loved you more than anyone, but he couldn’t choose life for you. That’s the truth.

That’s the complication. That’s what you need to understand. Elvis loved you more than anything. except he loved dying more than living, even for you. Priscilla’s face changed. Changed from relief to devastation. Changed from hope to understanding. Changed from validation to pain. Understanding what Dean was saying. Understanding the complication. Understanding that Elvis had loved her but not enough to stay alive. Had loved her completely but not enough to choose survival. had loved her more than

anything, but still chosen death. Dean kept going, kept explaining, kept giving Priscilla the full truth she’d asked for. Elvis talked about you constantly. Every time I saw him after your divorce, every conversation we had, every late night talk, he talked about you, about losing you, about regretting the choices that destroyed your marriage, about wishing he could have been different, about loving you, about missing you, about wanting you back, about all of it. You consumed him, Priscilla. Losing you

devastated him. He never recovered from it. never stopped loving you, never stopped wanting you, never stopped regretting, never. I watched him carry that loss for 4 years from 1973 when you divorced until 1977 when he died. Four years of Elvis being destroyed by losing you. Four years of him talking about you, missing you, loving you, wanting you back. Four years of devastation. That’s how much he loved you. That’s how much losing you hurt him. That’s how much you mattered completely. Totally

forever. Priscilla was sobbing now, understanding that Elvis had loved her, had really loved her, had been destroyed by losing her, had carried that loss until he died, had never recovered, had loved her the whole time. But here’s what you need to understand. Here’s the part that’s going to hurt most. Here’s the truth that’s going to haunt you. Elvis loved you completely. Losing you destroyed him. But he still chose pills over getting you back. He still chose destruction over fighting for you. He

still chose death over living for you. He loved you more than anyone. But he loved dying more than he loved surviving even for you. Does that make sense? His love for you was real, was complete, was everything. But his addiction was stronger. His self-destruction was deeper. His choice of death was more powerful even than his love for you. That’s not because you weren’t enough. That’s because his addiction was everything. That’s because his death wish was stronger than his love wish.

That’s because he was more committed to dying than to living, even for you. Even though he loved you completely. Dean paused. Let Priscilla absorb that. Let her understand. Let her process then continued continued giving her the full truth, the complete answer, everything. Elvis told me something in 1976, one year before he died. We were talking about you about your divorce about him losing you. Well, and Elvis said this to me, said these exact words. I’m going to tell you exactly what he said because

you need to hear it. You need to know. Elvis said, “Dean, losing Priscilla was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Worse than losing my mother, worse than anything. She was everything. She was the love of my life. She was the person I was supposed to be with forever. And I destroyed it. I destroyed her. I destroyed us. I chose pills over her. I chose Elvis Presley over being her husband. I chose destruction over love. And losing her is killing me. is destroying me, is making me want to die.

But even knowing that, even feeling that, even being destroyed by losing her, I still can’t stop. Still can’t choose differently. Still can’t stop the pills. Still can’t stop destroying myself. Even though losing her is killing me. Even though I love her more than anything, I still choose pills. I still choose death. I still choose destruction because I’m weak. Because I’m broken. Because I’m too far gone. Because I can’t stop. Even though I love her. Even though losing her destroyed

me, I still can’t stop. That’s how broken I am. I love her more than anything. And I still choose pills over fighting for her. That’s my failure. That’s my weakness. That’s my shame. That’s what Elvis told me one year before he died. That’s what you need to know. That’s the truth about whether Elvis loved you. He did completely. But he was too broken to choose you over destruction. Too weak to fight for you. Too addicted to stop even for you. That’s the truth. That’s the answer.

That’s everything. Priscilla was destroyed, was completely broken, was understanding that Elvis had loved her completely and chosen death anyway. Had been devastated by losing her and still couldn’t stop destroying himself. had wanted her and still couldn’t fight for her. Had loved her more than anything and still loved dying more. All of it true. All of it devastating. All of it the answer to her question. Dean wasn’t finished. Had more to tell. More truth to give. More devastation to deliver.

And here’s the part that’s going to haunt you most. The part you’re going to carry forever. The part that’s going to make you cry for the rest of your life. You asked if Elvis died because you left him. asked if your leaving destroyed him. Asked if you killed him. Here’s the truth. Your leaving contributed to his death but didn’t cause it. Your leaving devastated him but didn’t kill him. Your leaving was part of why he couldn’t keep living but wasn’t the reason he died.

Does that make sense? Elvis was going to die whether you stayed or left. Was choosing death either way. Was destroying himself regardless. But losing you made it worse, made it faster, made it more painful, made him less willing to fight, made him more committed to death. Your leaving didn’t kill him, but it removed one of the reasons he might have tried to survive. Does that make sense? You didn’t kill Elvis. Elvis killed Elvis. But losing you was part of why he didn’t fight harder to survive. Part of why he gave

up. part of why he chose death. Not the cause, but a contributor. Not your fault, but part of the story. That’s the truth. That’s what you asked. That’s what you need to know. Priscilla could barely breathe. Could barely process. Could barely understand. Understanding that her leaving had contributed to Elvis’s death, that Elvis had died partly because he’d lost her. that she hadn’t killed him, but had been part of why he didn’t survive. All of it complicated, all of it true, all of it

devastating. Dean kept going, giving her everything, holding nothing back, telling complete truth. Elvis told me in February 1977, 6 months before he died, that he couldn’t survive without you. Told me that 4 years of knowing you were gone was too much. told me he was dying partly because losing you made living unbearable. Those were his words. Losing Priscilla made living unbearable. Not that you killed him, not that your leaving caused his death, but that losing you removed his reason to fight,

removed his motivation to survive, removed his will to stop the pills. That’s different than killing him, but it’s still real. It’s still true. It’s still part of the story. You didn’t kill Elvis, but losing you contributed to why he couldn’t survive. That’s the truth. That’s what you need to carry. That’s what’s going to haunt you. Priscilla was completely destroyed now. Completely devastated. Completely understanding the full complicated truth. Elvis had loved

her completely. Had been destroyed by losing her. Had died partly because he’d lost her, but had also chosen death. Had also been too weak to fight. had also been too addicted to stop. All of it true. All of it her answer. All of it devastating. Dean reached across the table, took Priscilla’s hand, looked at her with compassion and pain and truth. Priscilla, I’m telling you this because you asked for truth. Because you needed to know. Because carrying questions is worse than carrying complicated answers.

Elvis loved you. Really loved you. completely loved you more than he loved anyone. Losing you destroyed him, devastated him, contributed to why he died. All of that is true. But you didn’t kill him. You didn’t cause his death. You didn’t fail him. You saved yourself. You left because staying would have killed you. You protected yourself and Lisa Marie. You made the right choice, the necessary choice, the survival choice. And Elvis died anyway. Died because he was too weak to survive.

Too addicted to stop. Too committed to death. That’s on him, not on you. But yes, losing you was part of why he couldn’t fight. Part of why he gave up. Part of why he died. Both things are true. You made the right choice leaving. Elvis died partly because you left. Both true. Both real. They’re both what you need to carry. That’s the answer to your question. That’s the truth you asked for. That’s everything. They sat in silence for 10 minutes. Priscilla crying. Dean holding her hand. Both

understanding that this conversation had changed everything. Had given Priscilla truth she’d needed. Had also given her truth she’d carry forever. Had answered her question. Had also created pain she’d never fully resolve. Finally, Priscilla spoke. Her voice was broken. was destroyed, was changed. How do I live with this? How do I carry knowing Elvis loved me completely and died partly because I left? How do I hold both of those truths? How do I understand that I did the right thing

and that my right thing contributed to his death? How do I survive this? Dean’s answer was gentle, was honest. So, it was everything Priscilla needed, even though it wasn’t comfort. You live with it by understanding it’s complicated. By accepting that right choices can have painful consequences. By knowing you’re not responsible for how Elvis responded to losing you. By understanding that Elvis’s death was Elvis’s choice, not yours. By carrying both truths even though they conflict. By surviving this

the way you survived everything else. By continuing. By living. By honoring that both things are true. Elvis loved you completely. Elvis died partly because he lost you. You made the right choice leaving. Elvis chose death anyway. All true. All real. All yours to carry. That’s how you live with it. By accepting the complication, by not trying to resolve the contradiction, by holding both truths, by surviving anyway. They talked for three more hours and until almost 11 p.m. Priscilla asking more questions. Dean answering

all of them. Dean telling her everything Elvis had said about her. Everything Elvis had felt. Everything Elvis had carried. Giving Priscilla the complete truth about Elvis’s love for her, about Elvis’s loss of her, about Elvis’s death partly because of losing her. All of it, everything. For 45 years, Priscilla carried what Dean told her that night. Carried the knowledge that Elvis had loved her completely. Carried the knowledge that Elvis had died partly because he’d lost her. Carried both

truths. Carried the complication. Carried the contradiction. Carried everything. Priscilla never spoke publicly about that conversation for decades. Never revealed what Dean had told her. Never shared Elvis’s words about her. Just carried it privately. painfully constantly. In 1985, eight years after that conversation, Priscilla was interviewed about Elvis, asked if she had regrets about divorcing him. Her answer was careful. Was carrying what Dean had told her. I had to leave. Had to save myself. Had to protect Lisa

Marie. It was the right choice, the necessary choice, but it was also devastating to Elvis. Both things are true. I don’t regret leaving. But I carry the weight of knowing what my leaving cost him. That’s what I live with. That’s what I carry. In 1997, 20 years after the conversation with Dean, Priscilla was asked in an interview if Elvis had really loved her. Her answer revealed more. Revealed she’d been given truth. Someone who knew Elvis well told me that Elvis loved me more than he’d

loved anyone. That losing me destroyed him. That he never recovered. that he carried that loss until he died. That’s what I know. That’s what I was told. That’s what I believe. Elvis loved me. Really loved me completely. But he was too broken to survive anyway. Both true. Both what I carry. In 2016, 39 years after the conversation, Priscilla spoke more openly, more honestly, more completely. I learned something after Elvis died that I’ve carried ever since. Learned that Elvis loved me completely.

That losing me devastated him. That my leaving was part of why he couldn’t survive. Not the cause, but a contributor. That’s complicated. That’s painful. That’s hard to carry. Because I know I did the right thing leaving. No, I had to save myself. No staying would have killed me. But I also know that my leaving contributed to Elvis’s death. Both true. Both real. Both mine to carry. That’s what I live with. That’s what someone who knew Elvis told me. That’s what I’ve carried for 39 years.

Elvis loved me. Elvis died partly because I left. I was right to leave. He died anyway. All true. All devastating. All carried forever. In 2022, 45 years after the conversation with Dean, Priscilla gave an interview was asked directly if she felt responsible for Elvis’s death. Her answer was this. Someone told me something after Elvis died. Told me that Elvis had said losing me made living unbearable. That four years without me was too much. That my leaving was part of why he died. Not the cause, but part of it. I’ve carried that

for 45 years. Carried knowing that Elvis loved me completely and died partly because I left. Carried knowing I did the right thing and that my right thing contributed to his death. Both true, both impossible to resolve, both mine forever. That’s what I carry. That’s what I was told. That’s what 45 years of knowing has meant. complication, contradiction, truth that doesn’t resolve, love that wasn’t enough, right choices that had devastating consequences. All of it, all true, all

carried forever. Dean Martin died in 1995, 18 years after telling Priscilla the truth. Never revealed publicly what he told her. Never shared that conversation. Just carried it himself. just knew he’d given Priscilla the truth she’d asked for. The truth that had haunted her ever since. In 2023, 46 years after the conversation, 6 months before Priscilla died, she did her final interview, was asked about her biggest regret regarding Elvis. Her answer finally revealed everything. Finally told the full story, finally explained

what Dean had told her. Dean Martin told me something 18 days after Elvis died. We met for dinner. I asked Dean if Elvis had really loved me. Dean told me the truth, the complete truth, the devastating truth. Dean told me Elvis had loved me more than anyone. That losing me had destroyed Elvis. That Elvis had never recovered. That Elvis talked about me constantly. Missed me constantly. Loved me constantly. until he died. Dean told me Elvis had said in 1976 that losing me was the worst thing that ever happened to him, that it was

killing him, that it made him want to die, but that even feeling that Elvis still couldn’t stop the pills, still couldn’t fight for me, still couldn’t choose life. Yen told me Elvis had said in February 1977 that losing me made living unbearable. That four years without me was too much. That he was dying partly because he’d lost me. Dean told me all of that. Told me Elvis loved me completely. Told me Elvis died partly because I left. Told me both were true. Told me I’d carry both forever. And I

have. I’ve carried it for 46 years. Carried knowing Elvis loved me and died partly because I left. Carried knowing I was right to leave and my leaving contributed to his death. Carried the complication. Carried the contradiction. Carried the truth Dean gave me. It’s made me cry for 46 years. Made me question for 46 years. Made me carry both things for 46 years. Elvis loved me completely. Elvis died partly because I left. I was right to leave. He died anyway. All true in all devastating. All

given to me by Dean Martin 18 days after Elvis died. All carried ever since. That’s my answer. That’s my regret. Not that I left, but that my right choice contributed to his death. Not that I didn’t love him, but that my love wasn’t enough to save him. Not that I failed, but that I succeeded at saving myself and he died partly because of it. That’s what Dean told me. That’s what I’ve carried. That’s what’s made me cry for 46 years. The truth. The complete, complicated, devastating truth. Elvis

loved me. Elvis died partly because I left. Both true. Both mine. both carried forever. Priscilla asked Dean, “Did Elvis love me?” on September 3rd, 1977. Dean’s answer made her cry for 45 years, made her carry complication for 45 years, made her understand that Elvis had loved her completely and died partly because he’d lost her. made her know that both things were true, that she’d been right to leave, that her leaving had contributed to his death, that Elvis’s love was real, that Elvis’s

addiction was stronger, that losing her destroyed Elvis, that Elvis destroyed himself, all true, all real, all given to her by Dean 18 days after Elvis died. All carried until she died 46 years later. That’s what happened. That’s what Dean told Priscilla. That’s what made her cry for 45 years. The truth. The complete truth. The devastating truth. Elvis loved her more than anyone. Elvis died partly because he lost her. Priscilla was right to leave. Elvis died anyway. All true. All complicated. All

impossible to resolve. All carried forever. That’s everything. That’s the answer. That’s what Dean Martin told Priscilla Presley. That’s what made her cry for 45 years until she died. Truth, complication, love, death, all of it forever.