On Friday morning, Sophie woke up before the alarm sounded and rolled over toward Mark, as she always did when she woke up early.

She liked their silly little chats early in the morning. She liked them so much her body had unconsciously decided to always wake up early now.

This was one of the few times of the day when she really felt close to Mark, other than when they had sex. But, in some ways, this was even better, since it felt deeper, more intimate.

She nestled against him, smiling rather groggily when he wrapped an arm around her.

“Ouch,” she said, when she felt a tug on her hair, which had evidently gotten briefly tangled in his fingers.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll stoically hide the unbearable pain.”

He chuckled, as she’d hoped he would, and adjusted her so she was nestled against him more comfortably. He brushed little kisses into her hair.

She tried to think of something meaningful to say. He was most open at times like these, and she thought they might actually be able to have real conversations, ones that were so hard when they were out of bed. But, before she could think of any way to lead into a conversation, he’d tilted up her head and was kissing her lips.

It felt good, and she liked how soft and needy he felt. She responded, although she was a little disappointed. They could have sex any time. She’d rather they open up in other ways right now. But soon her body was just as into things as his was, as he turned over onto her back and kissed his way down her body.

When he got to her clit, she was gasping, and after some work on his part with his fingers and mouth, she was coming in shudders and moans. He was smiling as he rose up and settled his body between her legs. He took her hard and fast, and she wrapped her legs around him.

He wanted her, needed her. She could feel how much he did in the motion of his body, the acceleration of his huffs and grunts.

But she wanted him to need her in other ways too. Once they’d both found their satisfaction, and he was holding her very tightly, she felt a wave of disappointment.

Things between them had been better since the Bible study earlier in the week. It felt like they weren’t both playing out roles anymore. But, if their little morning chats were going to change into sex, then she would have lost some of the real closeness with him they’d had before.

She didn’t want him to see that she was disappointed, though. It would hurt him. She knew it would. And it wasn’t fair to him. He had no idea how much the silly early morning talks meant to her. He would only know she was rejecting the love he’d offered her.

So she stayed in his arms for a few minutes, smiling and pressing little kisses on his skin. Then she groaned and rolled away from him. “I need to get dressed for work,” she said, making sure to keep hiding her real feelings.

He made a throaty sound of refusal. “You still have time.” He tried to pull her back into his arms. “Stay in bed with me.”

Irrationally, she felt crushed, and it was too early in the morning for her to mentally talk herself out of it. “I really can’t.” She gave him one last kiss. “I need to wash my hair today.”

She did need to wash her hair, but that wasn’t the real reason. She cried under the shower for a minute—making sure it was silent—until she reminded herself that things were going as well as she could expect them. This week, they had made some real progress, and nothing was wrong with this morning.

Mark wanted to be close to her. That was what she wanted too.

If he only seemed to really want her body right now, then she could keep being patient. He’d wanted all of her before. Once he’d healed more, surely he would want that again.

***

The next day, Sophie and Mark drove to a Christmas tree farm about forty-five minutes away to find their Christmas tree.

Sophie was excited about the outing. Aside from her little disappointment the morning before, the last few days had gone really well. They might not be perfect, but things between them were significantly better than they’d been a month ago. It hadn’t always been easy, but Saturday felt like a reward.

She was finally getting to pick out a Christmas tree with her husband.

Since her parents had always used the same artificial tree and she hadn’t felt like celebrating while Mark was captured, she’d actually never gone to pick out a live tree in her entire life.

Evergreen Inn and Farm was out in the middle of nowhere. It was a lovely, charming place—complete with an inn, a lake, a barn that could be used for gatherings, a holiday shop, and, of course, the Christmas tree farm.

As soon as they pulled up the drive and parked in one of the designated spaces, a cheerful woman who looked around forty ran out to greet them.

She said her name was Daisy. She owned the farm, and she was thrilled to have them here.

Her cheerfulness was rather overpowering, but it did feel genuine, so Sophie couldn’t help but like the woman. Daisy showed them around, and then told them that they could drive around the field of Christmas trees for as long as they wanted, picking one out. Once they’d decided, they could come back to the main building, and Harry would be happy to help them cut it down and tie it to the roof of their car.

Harry was evidently the gruff man with graying hair who was repairing the wishing well. He heard his name and gave them a quick wave, not even cracking a smile.

“He’s grumpy all the time,” Daisy explained. “But he has a good heart. One day, I swear I’m going to get that man to smile.”

Mark and Sophie smiled at each other.

It was a cold, sunny day, and Sophie put back on her red gloves after they’d gotten in the car again.

“She’s quite a character,” Sophie said, looking in the rearview mirror at Daisy, who had gone over to talk to Harry.

“No wonder Harry doesn’t smile, if he’s faced with her all day. There’s only so much cheerfulness one can take.”

Sophie gave him a quick look but saw he was teasing, so she chuckled in response.

She turned on Christmas music to get them in the spirit as they drove down the paths between the trees, checking out the different possibilities. Sophie had no idea what she was looking for, but Mark seemed to think they needed a North Carolina Fraser fir. He showed her the difference between those and the spruces, and she told him they all looked like Christmas trees to her.

He rolled his eyes at her, clearly trying to hide a smile.

“Oh, look at that one,” she said, her eyes widening as she saw a beautiful, large tree at the end of a row.

Mark laughed out loud. “That would never fit into the apartment.”

She put the car into park and got out. “I think it would. We have really high ceilings.”

“But not twenty-foot ceilings. That thing is enormous.” Mark had gotten out of the car too, and he pointed to a much smaller tree. “We need one about this size.”

“But that’s tiny. I want a nice, big one.”

“We have to get it up the stairs and in through the door, though. And we don’t want to have to lop off the top in order to get it to stand up.” He was walking down another row. “What about this one?”

“That one is skinny.” She saw one she liked the looks of. “What about this one? It’s nice and full.”

“It looks like it has a pot-belly,” Mark said in amusement, coming over to stand near the tree. “It’s as wide as it is tall.”

“It is not. Don’t exaggerate. It just has some meat on its bones.”

“We just got started looking. Let’s not decide too quickly.”

She gave him a playful huff as she took his arm. “You just don’t like the one I picked out.”

They walked or drove through the entire selection of Fraser firs, spending more than an hour looking through them all. Mark kept pointing out possibilities, but Sophie didn’t like any of them as much as she did the tree she’d picked out earlier, which Mark had dubbed the “pot-bellied tree.”

He put up a fight that she was sure wasn’t serious, until he finally relented.

It was so cold and she’d been laughing so much that she was breathless as they headed back to the main building.

Mark was flushed and laughing too, and he looked absolutely gorgeous in the winter sunshine, his brown hair glowing and his skin with more color than it had had since he’d returned.

She took his hand as they walked, and even with her gloves on, she could feel the warmth of his hand. They rounded up Harry and showed him the tree they’d chosen.

He examined it, shaking his head and muttering, “Not sure how this tree got so fat.”

Mark snorted, and Sophie said, “It’s not fat! It’s just big-boned.”

“A big-boned tree,” Harry muttered, his grizzled face surprisingly pleasant and almost attractive. “Never heard the like of it.”

Mark was obviously trying to suppress his amusement, while Sophie gave him a stern look.

Harry pulled out the saw he’d brought with him. “Who wants to do the honors?”

Sophie looked automatically to Mark, who raised his eyebrows at her. “I think Sophie should do the honors, since it’s her tree.”

He was obviously teasing her, but she took it as a challenge just the same. She steeled her shoulders and walked over to take the saw. It was heavier than she expected, and she looked at it dubiously.

Manual labor wasn’t her forte. She’d never used a saw before in her life.

“How do I do it?” she asked Harry.

“Just line it up at the bottom, where you want to cut, and go to it. Tiny thing like you can never manage it, though.”

Sophie sucked in an indignant breath and turned to look at Mark, who was smiling at her with such affection she almost lost her breath.

Determined to do anything that would make him look at her like that some more, she steeled her courage and carried the saw over to the tree. There was a decent length trunk at the bottom, but the branches were so wide it was hard to get to.

She had to fully extend her arms and crouch over to get the saw into place. She ran it across a few times and managed to cut about a centimeter into the bark.

Laughing, Mark came over and put his arms around her to hold the saw more securely. He was very close. His body was warm and big and strong behind her. She felt a thrill of pleasure at the feel of him against her, at how close he was, even in the presence of another person.

Together, they managed to cut into the trunk, but eventually Sophie just couldn’t do it. She let go of the saw and let Mark take over, and soon he had the tree all the way down.

As they loaded up the tree, Harry told Mark, “Your little wife is a tough customer, isn’t she?”

Sophie was ridiculously flattered by the words, and even more so when Mark put his arms around her, pulling her against him in a quick hug. “She sure is.”

Sophie decided then and there that they were going to come here to get their Christmas tree every year for the rest of their lives.

***

When they’d gotten back and tied the tree securely onto their car, they went to look around in the holiday shop.

About half the store was made up of Christmas items—some of them handmade and adorable—but the rest of the shop covered other holidays of the year.

Sophie picked out some Christmas tree ornaments and a wreath for their door while Mark was talking to Harry. She was looking through an assortment of stockings when an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a familiar, lean body.

She smiled up at Mark. “Look at how cute these are.”

He leaned over, nuzzling her ear before he said, “Adorable.”

She wondered if he was thinking about sex. It certainly felt that way from the way he was touching her. For the last few days, they’d had sex more than once a day. He couldn’t seem to get enough. She liked that he wanted her so much, and she had no complaints about having a lot of sex. But it felt kind of like they were having more sex than they were actually talking, and she wanted their relationship to be more than that.

She liked that he was affectionate right now, but she would have preferred to have a good conversation.

This wasn’t the time to say anything, though, so she gave him a teasing smile. “I hope you’re not expecting anything to happen way out here.”

“What do you think I’m expecting to happen?” One of his hands was on her belly, and she could feel the hard line of his body against her back.

“I don’t know. But, since we’re forty-five minutes from our apartment, I hope you’re not getting too excited about it. There’s a limit, after all, to the amount of sex a girl can handle.”

“What makes you think I’m thinking about sex?”

She thought she caught an odd note in his tone, but when she looked up at his face, it was relaxed and amused. “I know how to spot the signs.”

“Maybe you’re wrong this time.”

She laughed. “Well, good. Because soon I might pass out from exhaustion.” She turned around, planning to pull him down into a quick kiss, but Daisy came out from the back of the store just then, so Sophie gently pulled out of his embrace.

She took her items up to the cashier to pay for them, and Mark went to wait outside.

“I hope everything’s all right with your fella,” Daisy said with a smile, neatly folding the stockings into a bag.

Sophie widened her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just sensed something. He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He’s fine.”

“You two aren’t fighting, are you?”

Sophie’s mouth dropped open slightly, she was so surprised. How could Daisy possibly think they were fighting, when Mark had had his hands all over her just the minute before? “No. We’re not.”

Daisy’s eyes were focused on Mark, who was standing outside but visible through the window on the door.

“Nothing is wrong,” Sophie said, feeling a little defensive, since Daisy seemed so committed to the idea that something was bothering him.

“I’m sure there’s not,” Daisy said with a smile. “I just have a knack for helping couples find themselves again. They often end up here at the inn or the farm. It’s some sort of gift from God, I think. But I’m probably so used to it that I imagine it occasionally.”

Sophie sighed in relief at this explanation. “I’m sure that must be it. We haven’t had it easy, but we’re doing…doing really well.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said that to the other woman. Just that Daisy seemed to trigger spontaneous admissions.

“I’m really glad to hear it. If later on, you decide you need some time out or R&R, you all come on back here. Sometimes, a couple just needs to get away for a while, in order to see things clearly. You know?”

“I’m sure we will,” Sophie replied, with a genuine smile. Despite the presumption, it was impossible not to take Daisy’s words in the goodwill with each they were offered. “Thank you.”

When Sophie got her bag of loot, she went outside to find Mark. He’d moved away from the door, and she had to walk around before she found him standing over near the lake.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, coming to stand beside him and taking his hand.

“Yeah.”

She shot her eyes up to his face and saw to her surprise and disappointment that he looked closed off. He hadn’t looked that way all day, and only a few times since the Bible study earlier in the week.

What on earth could have happened to bring his guard up like that?

“What’s wrong?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

He gently pulled out of her grip. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

She stiffened her shoulders, feeling an automatic wash of frustration that she tried very hard to suppress. “You know what I mean. You were in a good mood earlier, and now something has happened.”

“Nothing has happened.”

She swallowed hard. “Well, something has happened. Did I do something?”

“Of course, you didn’t do anything.”

“Then why are you all distant now, when you weren’t just a few minutes ago.”

“I’m not distant. I’m perfectly normal. You’re imagining things.”

“I am not imagining things. Do you think I don’t know you well enough to tell? It’s fine if you’re upset or…or…”

“I’m not upset.” He sounded curt. Very curt.

She tried to hide how much it hurt her. “Well, something is wrong. What did I do?”

He made a sound like a growl. “I just told you that you didn’t do anything.”

“But I don’t believe you. If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, then how can I know what I did? How can I fix it?”

“There’s nothing to fix. Would you just drop it?” He turned on his heel and walked away from her, toward the car.

Sophie followed him, trying to get her emotions under control. She’d been so happy just a few minutes ago. She’d thought the day was perfect. Now it had fallen apart, and she had no idea why.

Daisy had been right after all. She’d sensed something in Mark that Sophie had totally missed.

As she walked toward the car, where Mark was waiting behind the steering wheel, Sophie saw Daisy and Harry standing together in the doorway of the shop, watching them.

Daisy gave her a slight smile and a little wave.

Distractedly, Sophie waved back, hurrying up to join Mark in the car.

He was sitting in the seat, staring in front of him, his hands clenched on the steering wheel.

“Mark,” she said, her voice breaking as she was so upset by his abrupt change in mood. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I already told you—”

“I know you’re saying nothing is wrong, but you must know that I can tell it’s a lie. I thought we were going to try to be real with each other.”

He sat and breathed for a minute before he finally muttered, “This is as real as I get.”

“No, it’s not. I know it’s not. We’re supposed to be married. We’ve got to open up to each other as well as have sex. How I can help you if you don’t open up to me? You never really open up to me.” The realization that this was true—that he’d only opened up to her in the smallest of ways since he’d return—hurt so much she almost started to cry.

She had to turn away and hide her face so she could regain control.

“I told you I can’t. I’m not ready yet.”

She swallowed hard. “Okay. When will you be ready?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you will…you will be ready eventually?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Then he finally said, “I don’t know.”

She turned away again to hide another, deeper wave of grief and fear. “How can I help you, if I don’t know what’s hurting you. I just want to help you. You understand that, don’t you?”

He made a strange, helpless sound in his throat and put the car into drive. He hadn’t driven much at all since he’d come to Willow Park. She had no idea why he’d decided to drive now.

Then she forgot everything else when he said, “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t always want for you to help me. I don’t always want your help.”

There was nothing she could say to that. If she said anything at all, she would burst into tears, and she couldn’t bear to do that to Mark.

He didn’t need a sobbing wife, on top of everything else.

She had no idea what it was he needed.

***

They didn’t talk on the way back—just listened to the Christmas music Sophie had turned on.

When they got back to the apartment, Mark said he was going out for a run, so Sophie changed clothes and got on the treadmill to power walk.

She prayed the whole time she was on it, but she didn’t feel any more peaceful when she got off.

It was hard to trust God to save a marriage that felt like it no longer had a real foundation.

Mark was back to his casual friendliness when he returned—the way he’d acted when he’d first shown up in Willow Park, the façade that was hiding whatever he was really feeling. Sophie was too scared to ask him what was wrong again. Even the distant friendliness was better than his anger and cutting words.

Maybe she’d been pushing him too hard, trying to do as he asked and help him be his old self again. Maybe she needed to take a step back and let him try to deal with things on his own.

It didn’t feel right to her, but what did she know? She’d never been through anything like he’d gone through.

She’d learned all about PTSD in her sessions during the first week after his return, and she kept watching for the signs like a hawk. His distant attitude and mood changes might fit to a certain extent, but nothing else really did. It didn’t really feel like he was working through a trauma. She would have been more than happy to help him through anything. He didn’t feel like he needed her much at all, though. Sometimes it felt more like he was putting up with her.

So they made small talk over supper, and then they watched television in bed.

Mark didn’t try to make a move on her, and she didn’t make any advances herself. So they didn’t make love at all that day.

She missed it. Not because she needed an orgasm, but because sex had been the only time she’d really felt close to Mark since he’d returned, other than the morning chats.

If she didn’t have that, then maybe she didn’t have him at all.