Free Disturb by J.A. Konrath

some big mistakes.”
    Bill was taken aback. Did Red know? Was this talk of self acceptance and big mistakes a reflection on Bill’s past?
    “I’m not sure I understand.”
    “I’m sure you do. I read about you in the paper last year, Dr. May. You and your wife. But obviously, with therapy, a person recovers. You did seek professional help, right?”
    Bill felt it build inside him. He tried to repress the bottled emotion.
    “The topic is Manny, Red.”
    “Surely you can talk about it after all this time.”
    The memories came flooding back, and Bill couldn’t stop the switch from being flipped. With them came pain, guilt, and self-hatred.
    “Whether I can or I can’t isn’t your goddamn business.”
    Red stared at him without expression.
    “I apologize, Dr. May. If you need an ear, I’m here. It’s almost impossible to get over things like that without help.”
    Bill tried to swallow, couldn’t. All eyes were on him, watching him while he cracked. He stood up to leave.
    “If you’ll excuse me.” Bill fought to keep his voice even. “The last thing I want to do is tell a group of complete strangers about how I murdered my wife.”

T heena watched Bill storm out of the conference room, his face ablaze with pain. Against the advice of Red, she followed, somewhat surprised by the degree of her own concern.
    Bill was leaning against the wall, his thumb and index finger pressing his eyes closed. Theena touched his shoulder and discovered he was trembling.
    “Bill? What happened in there?”
    When he took his hand away from his face, his eyes were red.
    “I’m not sure I can talk about it.”
    “Have you ever talked about it?”
    Bill said nothing. Theena waited, watching him wrestle with some inner demon. When he finally spoke it was flat and without emotion.
    “My wife Kristen had an inoperable brain tumor. It didn’t respond to conventional therapy. I knew there was an experimental drug that looked promising, but it was still in pre clinical development—it hadn’t been tested on humans.”
    His mouth twisted in a sour smile.
    “I pushed the application through the Investigational New Drug process, even though the sponsor wasn’t prepared for clinical testing. The FDA can do that for emergency cases; allow a treatment IND even if the drug hasn’t been approved.
    Theena could guess where this was going. Her stomach clenched with pity.
    “The tumor was slow growing, but I didn’t want to waste any time. I rushed her into treatment. I can remember promising her it was going to be okay.”
    His red eyes glassed over. His voice was a pain-filled whisper.
    “The first dose killed her.”
    Theena tried to touch his cheek, but Bill turned away.
    “I shouldn’t have pushed it through. If I had more thoroughly investigated the drug…”
    “She was going to die anyway, Bill.”
    He laughed, a harsh expletive sound.
    “The very next month, a doctor in Europe perfected a new procedure for mid-brain tumorectomy. If I’d waited a few weeks, Kristen would still be alive.”
    There was nothing Theena could say, but she tried.
    “You did it to save her.”
    “I killed her. It was no different than putting a gun to her head.”
    Bill walked off in the direction of the elevator. Theena could imagine trying to live with that guilt, and she felt terrible for him. She also felt something else; a tenderness inside her that had been missing for a long time.
    Theena followed, grabbing his sleeve.
    “Don’t go.”
    He shook his arm free. She grabbed him again, harder, yanking him around to face her. Bill’s face was vulnerable, but there was also inner strength there. He was hurt, and for some reason this hurt her too. It was impossible to bring his wife back, and almost as impossible to make him forgive himself.
    But maybe, for just a moment, she could help.
    Before he could object, she had her fist locked around his tie and her mouth pressed to his.
    Bill resisted for the briefest of moments, and then kissed