I’m holding one of the envelopes between my fingers. The one that will say whether I’ve been accepted to college or not. My heart is beating out of control. All I keep thinking is, when I was in high school, school came easy to me. But there wasn’t so much riding on it back then.

Everything’s changed, once again. I can’t even figure out how so much good can come out of so much bad.

My dad’s a compulsive gambler. He shouted the truth at me during one of his short-lived phone conversations…right before he had the audacity to ask for another thousand dollars. I’ve been blind to his addiction for a long time—long enough that I didn’t step forward in time. The hardware store was sold by the bank. And though I did give Dad that five thousand dollars to fix things, he didn’t use it to settle the arrears on the loan. I try not to blame myself for that one, because I’m honestly not sure five thousand would’ve been enough to cover it anyway, but it hurts just the same.

The house was nearly taken, too, but, when push came to shove, I couldn’t let him lose his home. I’ve got Tristan to thank for helping me with that.

Tristan also offered to pay for Dad’s rehab, to help him get the help he needs. Dad flat-out refused, called us both every name in the book, and said he didn’t want anything to do with me again. I haven’t heard from him, and I gave up hoping he’ll answer when I call. It hurts that he chose gambling over me, especially when I didn’t ask him to make a choice between the two, but all I can do is hope that someday he changes his mind.

It just feels like everything about my life has been a lie until now. Until Tristan, Darcy, and Ferguson.

But this? This is real.

“Is she going to open it, or are we going to sit here all day?” Darcy glances over at Tristan skeptically. He’d barbequed dinner, leaving the opening of the envelopes until the end.

Ferguson toddles over and kisses me on the cheek. “It’s okay, Faith. If you can’t go, we still love you.”

Leave it to him to make me want to bawl my eyes out at his cuteness. He’s so loveable.

Which is a bit like his dad when he lets his guard down. Sometimes he still keeps his defenses up, and it drives me crazy, but we have a lot of things to work on, and we can only take things one step at a time.

And right now, that next step is opening this damn envelope.

I want to go to Arizona State so bad I can practically taste it. I want to be here, with this family, and be a part of it. Tristan and I can get through this, but it’ll be a hell of a lot easier if I’m in Arizona.

“Are you going to open it, or just stare at it?”

I stick my tongue out at him, but then nod my head. Moment of truth.

With a deep breath in, I open the first one. “First, Boston.” I rip it open, then read the words.

“Well?” Tristan says expectantly. He moves to my side, not to read over my shoulder, but for support.

“I didn’t get in.” I put the letter down. The rejection doesn’t faze me. I didn’t want to go to Boston anyway, and Tristan knows that. I want to be here, where I belong.

“Next, Colorado.”

Tristan nods, and I rip open the next envelope.

Another rejection. My heart’s racing now. This suddenly isn’t feeling so promising anymore. My hands are trembling now, and the idea of another rejection feels like too much to bear.

“Do you want me to open the last one?” Tristan asks, holding his hand out for the envelope.

I nod. “Please.”

All eyes are on him as he opens it. Immediately, a smile grows wide on his face.

“Am I going to Arizona?”

He turns the letter toward me, grinning wildly. “You’re going to Arizona State!”

“Good, now you two can stop sneaking into each other’s rooms!” Darcy states happily, coming around to my side.

Both Tristan and I snap our heads up, staring at the little girl like she’s grown a second head.

We didn’t feel we were ready to tell the kids about us just yet. About our relationship. We didn’t want to confuse them, or make anything awkward.

Yeah, awkward. You know, kind of like finding out that we haven’t done a very good job of pulling the wool over his daughter’s eyes.

Tristan’s grinning from ear to ear, and he pulls me out of my chair, swinging me in the air. I feel the heat of his body on me, and it fortifies me, making me no longer afraid of anything.

Ferguson’s sitting in his chair, obviously confused at his sister’s comment, but then he starts clapping. Maybe he doesn’t exactly know why, but he will. We can tell him, just as soon as we’re done celebrating and laughing and enjoying this moment.

They’re my ready-made family, and Tristan is the man I’m going to love for life. Not because I have to, but simply because I want to.

“I love you, Faith Wilson.”

I stand on my tiptoes, giving him a peck on the lips, which is followed swiftly by Darcy’s and Ferguson’s collective, “Ew!”

I laugh, unable to take my eyes off the man in front of me. “I love you more.”

And I do, with all my heart. I love his children just as much.

There was a spark that ignited that love within me the first time I met them at the concession stand. Now, we have the rest of our lives to let it burn.