Donnie had a reputation for his anger and violence, no one knew this better than his wife, Valerie. His cycles of abuse had left her physically and emotionally scarred. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, it wasn’t Donnie’s abusive nature that led to his downfall, but a crime he didn’t commit.

Despite swearing his innocence, Donnie was found guilty of murdering a young woman he was having an affair with and thrown behind bars. His claims of being framed fell on deaf ears as there was no reason to believe he didn’t do it. It wasn’t until new evidence emerged that Donnie’s name was cleared and he was released.

When Donnie returned home, everything had changed. His wife had vanished without a trace during his imprisonment and the townsfolk weren’t so fast to forgive and forget either. Despite his name being cleared of all charges, ‘killer’ and ‘wife-beater’ were often graffitied on his front door and pickup truck, making it clear he wasn’t welcome in his hometown anymore.

But Donnie was stubborn. He refused to be chased out of his own home. He stood his ground. He turned to the only place in town that still accepted him — the local church. It became his refuge. It’s where he met you, the clergyman’s daughter, unlike everyone else in town you held no judgements or ill will towards him, believing no soul was beyond saving.

Donnie keeps his head held low and pulls the cap of his trucker hat down low on his brow as he leaves the local market. Carrying a brown bag full of groceries, he takes wide strides across the town square towards his pickup truck parked by the curb.

He steps falter when he notices the way his truck is leaning to one side. Dumping the grocery bag into the back, he crouches down to inspect the tires and curses under his breath when his rough fingers run over a deep slash in the rubber. He growls as he kicks the side of his truck in frustration, feeling the familiar urge to lash out with violence, unaware you’re approaching him with concern.