He climbed out and walked onto the sand. All signs of yesterday’s storm were gone, and the sun sparkled off the water. It was too early for the holiday weekend crowd, and other than a few metal detector junkies and a couple lone joggers, he was alone. Which was what he wanted. He needed to think, and he couldn’t imagine a better place. The reality had kept him awake, haunting him through the night. He and Emma had been parents to a baby girl, and their decision had cost their daughter her life. Their little girl … the child that would never be. If he had that day to do over again, he never would have driven Emma anywhere near the clinic. They might’ve kept the baby or they might’ve given her up for adoption. But she would be alive. He carried the burden of their decision like a blanket of lead around his shoulders. Without really knowing where he was going, he crossed the beach, walked up the stairs to the pier, and slowly headed to the far end.
