-Chapter 20-

Southern Alberta

Fortin’s mind swirled.

What the hell’s happening?

The Jansens never reported what had happened, and Fortin had told no one about it, not even Cathy.

The incident had ripped open his festering wounds. He drank alone that night, chastising himself.

What’s wrong with me? I was going to draw my gun on a child.

At work Fortin had gone to his sergeant and requested that he assign the Jansen burglary case to another member of the detachment.

“Sir, I just can’t go back out there again.”

His sergeant stared long and hard at him.

“I’ll take you off the Jansen case but if an operation dictates that we need you to respond to that property, you will respond, Will. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The following week Fortin’s sergeant passed him an official letter from K-Division headquarters.

Fortin had failed in his effort to make Corporal. He would be able to apply again at another time, but for now, he would remain a constable at the Lone Tree detachment.

Fortin tried to shake it off, telling himself that it didn’t matter, that he didn’t care. But he knew it was a lie.

In the weeks that followed, he grew even more distant at home while Cathy was getting stronger. She’d gone to her counseling sessions faithfully. She went to church regularly and prayed. She kept her medical appointments. She returned to school and drew strength from her students and her colleagues.

By putting one foot in front of the other, she was healing.

Then Cathy’s doctor had told her that, although there were risks for her to get pregnant and carry to term, they were relatively low. She and Will could try for another baby. She took it as a ray of hope, a promise that they could have a family, that they could have a normal life, if they both believed it.

But when she told Will, he seemed cool to the news, which concerned her. She tried to get him to open up to her, but it was futile.

“We have to talk. You can’t keep doing this, Will. You’re becoming a stranger to me. We can recover. We can start over, if we work at it together. We can still have a family. Don’t you want a family with me, Will?”

Fortin said nothing.

Cathy wept.

He remained distant and isolated himself, staying up late drinking or taking long, solitary drives.

Cathy grew angry.

Whenever he did speak, they argued. She grew increasingly fearful and desperate until one night in a tearful exchange she begged him to talk to her.

“You have to talk to me, Will. You have to tell me what’s going on with you, no matter how hard it is.”

“You have to let me go,” he said.