Prologue

Dr. Luke Thomson stood amongst a grouping of aspen pines, away from the crowd of mourners, not wanting to be seen, not wanting anything except maybe some closure. But closure didn’t come, wouldn’t come today, he already knew. It wouldn’t be that easy; he didn’t deserve for it to be that easy.

Cold, unrelenting November wind and rain battered the Bailey family and their friends as they tried to lay their beloved to rest. It was harsh, violent weather, and it seemed so cruel that they would have to face that too.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off any of them, letting their pain sink and seep through him so that he would never forget this moment. Of all the things he’d lived through, the grief and heartache he’d witnessed, nothing compared to what he’d lived this last week. Nothing came close, because he was responsible for all of it.

When his mother was diagnosed with cancer last year, he’d blamed himself. He’d been too busy taking care of his patients to notice the early warning signs. By the time she was diagnosed, a cure wasn’t possible anymore. The day he’d told his little sister it was terminal, she had wept all over him, never once blaming him, but he knew it had been his fault. Now they were just waiting for the end.

The night of the accident, the night his wife and unborn baby had died, he’d blamed himself. He was being punished. Their child had been punished. Because of him. He had reached rock bottom. What he’d thought had been hell was nothing compared to the hell he’d have to face moving forward.

His coat flapped with the wind, but he didn’t bother buttoning it. He didn’t want the shelter, the warmth. The rain mixed with his tears as he watched the caskets being lowered into the earth. The young woman that must have been the mother, wife, stood stoically, exhibiting a control that was admirable and surprising. An older couple flanked either side of her, all of them crying. A tall man, with unflinching, hard features stood behind her, holding an umbrella over her. A young man and woman stood beside one of the parents. The woman didn’t lift her head, but from the shaking of her shoulders was crying. The look on the man’s face, filled with so much anguish, made it impossible to look away. He had nothing to offer them. There was nothing he could give them today.

When the ceremony was finally over, he didn’t move, just observed the crowd of people slowly maneuvering through the muddy cemetery, the rain continuing to torment the mourners. He was unable to move, unable to breathe normally yet. He closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to control his emotions. Acid swirled, unrelenting, in his stomach as he absorbed the impact of his actions on the Bailey family. He’d destroyed two families. Two children.

When he opened his eyes only the woman and the man with the umbrella remained. His gut continued to churn and acid rose in his throat as the woman dropped to her knees. Her voice echoed throughout the open space, slicing through him, making him never want to look in the mirror again.

He’d go home to spend the last few days with his mother and try to give her some peace. Then he would find a way to start over. He’d begin the journey to finding out what he was made of, what kind of man he could really be, what kind of man he wanted to be. He’d find a way to repent. He’d find a way to look in the mirror again.

But he would be back. He’d be back to face this family.

One day, he’d be back to ask their forgiveness.