And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

      —Ephesians 4:32

      To our firstborn daughter, Marissa, who has been asking me to write Hannah and Todd’s story for four years now. You already have so many wonderful stories in you. I hope you find joy in telling them.

      A special thanks to Monsignor John Budde for his biblical research assistance; Michael G. Thomas, C.P.A., for his knowledge of the accounting field; and, as always, to my favorite medical expert, Dr. Celia D’Errico, D.O.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      For the third time in as many weeks, Hannah Woods awoke smiling. She wasn’t fully awake. Not really. For if she were, then the practical side of her mind would have insisted that she rein in those banned images. She was far too busy and far too focused to entertain little-girl dreams, at least in her conscious hours. She hadn’t been a little girl for a very long time.

      Just this once, though, in that private place between slumber and alertness, Hannah couldn’t resist the temptation to let those pictures play out in full color.

      Keeping her eyes tightly closed, Hannah let herself glance around in her make-believe world and take in sights and sounds so real that she could almost hear the organ prelude and smell sweet roses and pooling candle wax. Her heart warmed at the sight of her father standing at the altar, his Bible open to a familiar passage.

      She couldn’t picture herself, but she could almost feel tulle brushing her cheek and lacy bridal point, making her wrists itch. The last image, though, made her breath catch in her throat. Todd. Always Todd.

      Standing across the aisle from her, he looked so handsome in his dark tuxedo. His shoulders had filled out the way she’d always imagined they would someday, but he still had the same boy’s face she remembered, and his green eyes were as mesmerizing as ever. Those eyes still looked as sincere as they had when he’d told her he loved her.

      When he’d lied.

      As Hannah came fully awake with a start and sat straight up in bed, the twinkling lights of the miniature Christmas tree shifted into focus. They’d set it up the day before while still digesting their Thanksgiving turkey. This morning the tree’s tinsel, garland and tiny red bows replaced all satin and pastel thoughts of the wedding that would never be.

      What was she doing, anyway? She didn’t have the luxury of indulging useless, adolescent dreams. And if she continued forgetting to unplug that little tree at night, especially with the apartment’s wiring, they would be sifting through charred rubble before New Year’s.

      Clearly, she needed to get her act together. She was twenty-two years old now, not seventeen. She had responsibilities and obligations—things Todd knew nothing about and probably couldn’t have handled if he knew. You never gave him the chance to handle anything, an unwelcome voice inside her pointed out with a punch she did her best to dodge. Forgiveness. She’d given that the old college try these past five years, but she couldn’t quite get beyond the desertion part. Whether or not it had been his choice to leave with his parents when his father had been transferred to Singapore, the fact remained that he had left when she’d needed him most.

      Perhaps only God could forgive and truly forget.

      A litany of her own sins and failures played in her mind as it always did when her thoughts turned to the boy she should have forgotten—the boy who was now a man. She would have allowed guilt to blanket her as she had so many times while the months stretched into years, but the squeak of her bedroom door offered a reprieve this time.

      “I’m awake, Mommy,” Rebecca called out as she bounded into the room, tucked something under the bed and then scrambled on top of the covers.

      Though her child made that same announcement and followed the same routine every morning at about ten minutes before the alarm was set to go off, Hannah smiled. “Well, looky there. I guess you are.”

      “Is it Friday? Do I have my playdate with Max today?”

      “Yes, sweetie, it’s today.”

      Since Rebecca had been counting down the days until her playdate with her favorite friend, Max Williams, Hannah was pleased to finally say yes. Technically, the “playdate” was really only a day when Mary Nelson would be babysitting both Rebecca and Max while Hannah worked at the accounting firm and while Max’s mother, Tricia Williams Lancaster, scoured Twelve Oaks Mall on the busiest shopping day of the year. Hannah didn’t bother clarifying the point.

      “Today. Today. Today!” Rebecca threw her head back on the bed and wiggled with the type of delight only a child could find before breakfast without a double espresso. Her fine towhead-blond hair stuck up every which way, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, probably looking for the stars she liked to watch behind her eyelids.

      Reaching down, Hannah