Read Redemption for Free Online Page A

business."
    The tidal wave came crashing down, and Kari fell back into the chair again. Her heart raced dangerously fast, and she couldn't grab a full breath. Pain shot down her arms, and there was a heaviness on her chest that grew worse with each passing second.
    Lord, help me. I'm ailing. Father . . . help!
    I am with you.
    The gentle whispers in the depths of Kari's soul brought only a fraction of relief, but it was enough to ease the pain and allow her to inhale. "You owe me more than that, Tim." She steadied herself and stared up at him. "She's not your wife. I am."
    Tim opened his fists, took hold of his wedding ring, and slid it off his finger.
    "Don't you get it, Kari?" He tossed the ring on the coffee table, shook his head, and sat down. "It's over. I want out. I don't want to be married anymore."
    As the ring clattered onto the table, something in Kari shut down. It was almost as if a protective shield had gone up around her heart, a kind of armor that simply would not allow her any more pain. She felt dizzy and sicker than before, yet somehow
    31
    detached and clear-eyed, as if she were observing the whole scene from a distance.
    Her husband was nothing of the man she'd thought him to be. Instead, he had lied and cheated on her, and now he was saying their marriage was over. She looked at him sitting there, his long fingers clenched together, his head lowered, giving her a clear view of the bald spot just beginning to show on the top of his head.
    She remembered a verse from their wedding: And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
    Acting with what she could explain only as supernatural power, and without so much as a single tear, she studied her husband and steadied her voice. The anger was still there, but her determination was greater. "We need counseling."
    Tim's mouth hung open. "Counseling?" He rolled his eyes, his tone louder than before. "Kari, I'm sorry this is hard for you to accept, but you need to hear me. I want a divorce, not counseling. I'm in love with someone else."
    "That doesn't matter." Kari leaned back and crossed her arms tightly in front of her. "God can forgive you."
    Her husband swore under his breath and stared at her as if she'd just stepped off an alien spaceship. "I don't want God's forgiveness." His voice filled the room. "Not now, not ever. It's my life . .. however I choose to live it." She opened her mouth to say something, but he held out a hand to stop her. "I don't want your forgiveness either. I don't want to be married. It's not fair to either of us." He paused, and the dejected calm returned to his tone. "I want a divorce. Nothing less."
    Again a strength she couldn't explain coursed through her. "You're my husband, Tim. We promised each other forever. Whatever you've done, God can help me forgive you. We can get counseling and work it out."
    Tim glared at her, got up and crossed the room, and grabbed the overnight bag he had brought home with him. He stood that way for a moment; then he let it fall once more and slowly came
    32
    to stand with his feet nearly touching hers. "I loved you, Kari." He shrugged, and his eyes were sadder than they'd been since he arrived. "I never meant to hurt you with this. But I'm not staying married to you. I can't live a lie." His voice grew softer. "I'm moving in with Angela tonight."
    "No ..." The comment was out before Kari could stop it. The veneer of calm was giving way, threatening to release an avalanche of rage and pain and heartache.
    She could feel her limbs shaking from her scattered emotions, and her mind raced as she considered her options.
    Tim raked his fingers over the tops of his thighs as if he was trying to keep from shouting at her. Then his hands relaxed, and he spoke quietly, simply. "I'm sorry, Kari."
    Without waiting another moment, he grabbed his bag again and headed toward their bedroom.
    "Don't do this, Tim." Her words trailed after him, but he didn't look back. She closed