“Merry Christmas and good afternoon,” the sexiest voice I’ve heard whispers in my ear. Sensual, hard to soft hands brush my hair away from my face. And when I open my eyes to see Blake fully dressed, his blues full of love for me, I want to choke up. Everything hits me at once. His words, those tattoos, his body, the wine, all of it. He’s made a life for himself here, and I’ve missed so much of it that it angers me. Not angry at him but the men who did this.

I’ve beaten back the traps of life, and yet regardless of what Blake told me last night about being protected, I feel that claustrophobia noose around my neck. I’m scared that whenever the walls close in on me, my fists—or even he—won’t be able to knock them down.

I trust him; I really do. But when my mind searches for ways to escape, my heart starts pounding erratically and my stomach leaps into that giant volcano. What happens when I want to scream to let out all the fear that's been building inside me for so long? A scream so loud it becomes a cry of horror, a giant crack of thunder that will scare it all away? I just can’t imagine what would happen if those men found us or if the people his friends are hiding from found them. What would we do? Where would we go? Would they kill us? Leave us be? Challenges and choices. Ruckus and rewards. I have got to have hope. Have to live and revel in having him back, or I’ll be shackled once again.

“Same to you,” I say, doing my best to clear my head. By the time we crashed back into his house at three in the morning after making up for four missed holidays, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. I didn’t permit my mind to think about anything but him last night. The only thing that kept sneaking out of the corners was the baby and him telling me about all the people who work here. I shoved them back in. No matter how many questions I have, I’m deciding right now I will not let it ruin what we’re building. I lie there in his bed, warm, his smell all around me. My fingers slide from under the pillow to the tattoos on his arm, down to his wedding band.

“I remember when you got this one.” My chin trembles, and I close my eyes to stop myself from crying as my mind drifts back in time.

“This is my wedding present?” I glanced from my husband’s face to his arm. I was beginning to think he was losing his mind. We’d been married for less than twenty-four hours, just checked into our room to start our honeymoon, when he stripped out of his crisp white shirt to reveal a long-stemmed tulip inked on his arm. The man was going to be covered in them if he didn’t stop.

“No. I’m your present and you’re mine. I wanted to get this thing started, thought I’d surprise you. Jazz said she could fit me in the night before last. What can I say? I’m addicted.” He shrugged, turned toward me, and stiffened. I wasn’t sure if he realized what he’d said or if it was the tears falling down my face that had him gripping my hands and shaking his head. “Goddamn it, Adriana. I’m sorry.” I was sure he was, but it didn’t make what he said sting any less. It didn’t make the pain stop. My shoulders shook, my stomach lurched, and I ran into the adjoining bathroom and threw up.

This was the first time in my life I was going to be out of her reach if she needed me. Our grandmother was getting too old to deal with her by herself.

I’d tried to convince myself that me being gone was no different than being home because I never knew where she was or how long it would be before she showed up. Sometimes she’d be gone a few days, sometimes several months. The only constant I had with her was that I knew she’d return. What if she returned this time when I wasn’t home to help her? To clean her up, feed her, clothe her, and try to get her back on her feet. She could disappear for good.

There was nothing harder than watching your sister fade away from you. To see her in pain when she didn’t really know she was.

Not once had I enabled her. I didn’t give her money, nor did I condone what she did. I couldn’t give up on her, though. If I did, she’d have no one to save her when she realized she was worth saving.

“I have to try calling her again.” I pushed myself up off the floor, cleaned up my mess, rinsed my mouth, and exited. Blake was sitting on the bed, his shoulders slumped forward, head down. I could sense that he was hiding something from me. I wanted to push him to tell me what it was, but the words wouldn’t come out. They stayed buried inside of me along with the fear that if I pushed him far enough, he would eventually leave me, too.

“Adriana, I will never ask you to walk away from her, but there’s going to come a time when you’re going to have to let her go. You can’t help her if she’s not ready,” he spoke with contempt, so much of it that it was sliding off him and landing at my feet. This was what he was hiding. His fear that when the time did come, I’d break. He was right.

I ignored him, this man who struggled himself. He loved me and hated her. Blake didn’t think I saw the way I caught him looking at her with so much disdain, so much contempt that I’d been afraid I’d have to make a choice. He never said a word; he didn’t have to. He supported. Encouraged me to stay strong for her. It was odd, though, that he would bring this up now when he should have brought it up the minute he felt this way.

It was actually funny and yet it wasn’t that our first argument as husband and wife was over her, when all he’d done in the past was support every decision I’d made when it came to try and help the only sibling I had cure this damn disease that had taken her away from me. Away from herself.

“I will never give up on her. Ever.” I fought back the wave of nausea that hit me again when his words slammed me in the gut. “I’m not a fucking idiot, Blake. We have certain boundaries with her; we give her a roof over her head, food, and clothes when she needs it, and that’s it. But the one thing I will always give her whether she’s with me or not is love and hope. Hope that she will see how much she means to me. Hope that she will see how much she should mean to herself. I feel the same way about her as I do you. I won’t let either one of you go, no matter what you do.”

He stood and placed his hands on his hips. He was angry. Well, good, so was I.

“I didn’t say you had to give up on her. I would never expect you to do that. I’m on your side, even though it kills me to see what she’s doing to you and your grandmother. I love you more than anything, Adriana. I won’t bring it up again.” Coward’s way out. Both of us.

“No. You don’t get to do that, Blake. You’re hiding things in order to protect me. You don’t think I know you don’t like her? I understand why you don’t. I do. There are times when I don’t either. But don’t you dare stand there and tell me you’re on my side. There aren’t sides here. Family doesn’t have sides. They stick together. Support. You don’t have to like her. Just please don’t ask me to let her go. I can’t do it; if I do, she’ll never come back to me.”

“Adriana, come here, please.”

I went to him, and we talked it out. He never admitted what he was hiding from me. I never pushed him to tell me either. It had everything to do with how much he hated her. He just didn’t want to hurt me by saying it. It’s the same vibes I’m getting from him now. Whatever it is he’s hiding, he thinks it’s going to fracture me.

I never heard from Alexis until I returned home and went to see her at work. How she kept up her act with her clients and co-workers was beyond me. How she even found job after job beat the shit out of me, too. I should have realized by then it was too late to save her. However, my marriage I won’t be able to come back to fully until I know what he’s keeping from me.

“I love this, Blake. It means so much.” My fingers stroke their way around the corded vines permanently etched in his skin.

The unwanted tension in this bed is irreversible. I can feel it all coming to an overboiling head. This is a place where there should be none at all. But there is, and just like times before, neither one of us speaks of it. We chicken out. We remain quiet. And he just lets me carry on with my thoughts while stroking the beauty of his skin.

“I won’t be the least bit disappointed if we stay in bed all day. I’m not talking about having sex. I’m talking about holding you in my arms, running my fingers through your hair, our bodies so close to each other that all I feel is you. All I see is my wife in my arms. I don’t need anything more than that.” I sigh. Blake has always been able to flip our moods on and off like a switch. He can go from sweet to serious to naughty in seconds. His expression is guarded today, though. I was a fool to think we didn’t know each other anymore. We can still read each other the same way someone can find a page, recite a quote out of their favorite book. The knowledge will stick with you forever. He knows I’m hiding something, and I know he is, too.

“Something tells me you’ll have plenty of days to do that, Blake Mitchell.” A smile rips its way across those lips that ate up every inch of my body last night until the corners of his mouth lift. God, he’s handsome. I’m changing gears as he did. I don’t want to bring up what I have to say any more than he does.

The crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up he’s wearing is waving my surrender up against that muscular chest. I want to strip it off and devour him. To just forget everything I don’t want to believe. I can’t have her ruining another holiday, especially when she’s not even here. The thing is, my head won’t stop talking to me until I hear him tell me.

“I hope for a lifetime of days and nights with you.” He winks, drags me to him, and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Get dressed. I’ll start our vehicles.”

“I missed the view,” I say disappointedly. Our day is bound to be ruined. I can feel it. I stretch and climb out of bed, straightening the T-shirt he gave me to sleep in.

“Something tells me you’ll have plenty of days to see it, Adriana Jensen.” I don’t turn around to let him see the sadness on my face. I’ll never have the same name as him again. I don’t think I want to either. God, this is more complicated than I thought it would be. Everything hurts all over again. Trust, time, and the truth, Adriana. That’s all you can wish for, all you can hope for when it comes to those things. With the other thing, it cannot.

I place his shirt on the bed after taking a quick shower and getting dressed. As I take a look around, my heart sinks to the floor. There’s nothing in this room or his bathroom from his past. I’m not so sure why it hurts so badly, but it does. I need to get him to my house so he can see all the surprises I have for him today. He may think all he wanted was me for Christmas, but he’ll change his mind when I give him back the most important parts of his life.

I sigh. My heart is heavy and aching. People who hide things carry a heavy load saddled with thick, heavy masses. As horribly tightening as they wrench when the burdens become too much, the moment we allow someone to help lift them is when we’re finally free to live. It might not be seamless; it might not be how we dreamed our life was going to be. But you realize how truly lucky you really are. How incredibly blessed the life you thought was cruel has shown you an entire world of difference. That’s how I feel, that’s what I think about as Blake helps me into my coat, grabs his bag, and follows me home. I have to let her go.

I’m nervous as I pull into my garage and look over at his truck pulling in beside me. I swallow, push open my door, seal us in, and let him into my home. I’m trembling and shaking.

“I see you're still into collecting things.” Blake is standing in my living room when I return from changing my clothes. The mental talk during the drive over here was a waste of brain cells. I told myself everything was going to be fine. That the decorations, the tree, and all the last-minute things I did were what we could talk about. As I watch him now, see him in the place where I assume we will live, I’m not sure what to do or what to say. For now, I say nothing. I admire this strong man who protected me. I’m stronger than he thinks. Stronger than I think. And I really don’t think I can make it through another day without telling him.

God, he’s tall. It’s been so long since I’ve studied him like this that there are many things I remember and many I don’t want to. I remember many late-night discussions over being opposites when it came to decorating. It was one of the few things we argued about. We were talking about building a new home together once we paid off loans.

Blake was always into the more modern trends. Whereas me, I was into shopping around at garage sales, antique malls, and flea markets. Almost everything I owned before was sold. I only brought my grandmother’s desk, my outdoor patio furniture, and a few items that belonged to Alexis. She didn’t have much to begin with. The few things I did keep are all I have from the one person in my life I will always remain bonded to. I still see and feel my sister everywhere. God, this is going to be brutal.

“I am. That wooden table and my bed are my favorites.” I run my fingers across the front of my clutch that I tossed on the kitchen counter when I realize what I said. Why? I have no idea. Especially after everything we’ve done. I know better than to use the word ‘bed’ in the same sentence when it comes to talking to Blake. The man has a one-track mind with that word, and it doesn’t involve sleeping. And that is something I didn’t realize turned me on until I started dating him. His blunt approach to what he was going to do to me when we got back to either one of our places would have me squirming in my seat by going on a desperate hunt to relieve the pressure. Half the time, I did while he watched.

“This table.” He runs his index finger across the distressed wood. My stomach tightens. I exhale. I’m lost in following his finger run across the light blue strip, dip underneath and back up again. Good Lord, he’s seducing me on purpose. He knows how that long index finger of his used to manipulate my body into a pliable form all for him. Pushing me over the edge until I shook, my muscles weakened, my body spent, only for him to pull me up and do it all over again.

I breathe out slowly, bringing my clutch up to my chest. He’s trying to distract me from asking.

What he’s doing right now is what has me saying what comes out of my mouth next. We jumped too fast. Went straight into high gear without talking everything out.

“Blake, what are you doing?” My voice is a mere whisper. I’m burning up for this man and those deviously talented fingers. I’m not giving in to him this time. He doesn’t see me as a doormat the way my sister did. He isn’t using me. He wants me. He loves me. But he wants to save me from more pain. Save me from something in our past once again. I’m not that person anymore. I don’t need saving. I need his words to hurt me so I can forgive.

He says nothing as he sheds off his coat, pitches it on my couch, and stalks toward me. He isn’t going to slow down. Not this man; he’s going to try to plow right through me.

He’s sinfully good looking. I’m getting wetter between my legs with every tick of his square jaw, every stride of his legs. When he leans toward me, maintaining a devilish grin, a wicked glee in his eyes, I swear my breathing comes out in erratic, tiny puffs of air. Stay strong.

“I’m doing this.” He releases the hold I have on my clutch, grabs my right hand, and slides a ring on my finger. I gasp when I see the leaf-and-vine tulip-flower ring with a dark purple stone in the middle

I hold my shaky hand out. An overwhelming sensation gushes through me. I want to laugh, cry, and tell him that all I need is him. But I can’t. This ring symbolizes so much of our past, present, and future that it shakes me to my core. It tears me open. I expect to cry, but when the tears don’t follow and the opening in my chest is filled with the power of love, I can’t help but smile. Because with love comes hope, and hope is the foundation that has me standing on solid ground.

“I take it you like it.” He entwines our hands and brings them up to his chest.

“It’s beautiful, Blake, but I can’t accept this.” I glance from the ring to his eyes. They’re so blue today I can almost see his soul through them.

“What? Of course, you can, and you will.”

“No, I won’t. Not until you tell me who the person was who found out it was you. That’s what you’re hiding from me, isn’t it?” I see right through those eyes that say he’s scared of telling me the truth. It was staring me in the face this entire time. I can guess by the intensity from the way his back stiffens, his features go from soft to hard, that I know the person. I can guess who without him telling me. This is going to be far worse than I imagined.

I take the ring off and place it in his hand.