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I listened to the howling wind and watched the snow fall around me and waited for death. I had neither the strength nor the will to go on. I had no reason to live. I had destroyed my life years ago when I married Lawrence Williams. Now, I had come to this wilderness searching for the one man who held my heart in his hands. Well, I had found him.
“Oh, Tim!” I sobbed to the wailing wind. “Why didn’t I realize years ago that I loved you?”
It was too late for regrets. My baby was dead. My other son was with Lawrence, and I would never see him again. I could never go back and change my life. I couldn’t live with the pain another moment. I closed my eyes and dreamed of what my life might have been with a man named Tim O’Brien. . . .
I had met him when I was seventeen. I remembered his teasing grin, and those piercing eyes that were so full of life, looking at me from the kitchen of the little café where we both worked. He cooked and I waited tables all night on weekends. He had dropped out of school and was living with his sister. I was still in high school, saving every dime for college. I had big dreams. I wanted to be a writer or an artist . . . whatever would bring me success and a ticket out of the poverty I’d been born into.
Tim enjoyed life as it was. He seemed to have no ambitions. He never cared that much about money. Good friends and good times were the best things in life to him . . . and, of course, his music. Tim played the guitar with a natural flair. He took it everywhere with him. Read More!