

By

Mareta L. Miller
Stemming from Secrets

(Book 2 in the Ninety-Nine Roses series)

Smashwords Edition 2015

Copyright © 2015 by

Mareta L. Miller

Cover Photographed by Alizabeth Kaminski

This is a work of fiction. All names, locations,

and characters are fictitious and are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual

events, names, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address the publisher at: PO Box 12573 Las Vegas, NV 89104

Julia

FOREVER. IT'S EXPECTED TO BE a very long time. I've made that promise before, to love someone forever, and here I am doing it again. It was a decision that was made quickly, only having been in this relationship for a little more than a month, but how long is long enough? I've been alone for almost seven years, and I'm not a young girl who's afraid to be alone. I'm a woman that knows what love feels like, and I know that's what Derick and I have.

I'm not one of those women who's just in love with the idea of marriage. I don't believe in pledging your love, throwing a big wedding, making promises in front of everyone you know, and then tossing them away for the next better thing. I've never promised anything I didn't keep. I promised Alex "'til death do us part" and I kept that promise 'til long after that vow became my reality. In some ways, I'm still holding onto that vow. But life has yet again changed, giving me a chance I never thought possible: to love and be loved again.

I've stopped feeling guilty and I've stopped beating myself up for wanting to do more than just exist in this life without my family. For wanting to have a new family and fulfill dreams I'd long ago given up. For not wanting to be alone anymore.

I've stopped punishing myself and constantly thinking I'm selfish. I say _constantly_ because I sometimes believe I'm still selfish. I'm selfish for not sharing my past with Derick. I'm selfish for keeping secrets from him. I'm selfish for letting him believe I'm something I'm not. No matter how big or small they are, secrets are the same as lies and they can ruin you.

Julia

EVERY MORNING I WAKE UP warm and protected by the arms of this man. Some days I find it hard to keep the truth to myself, I want to come out with everything. I think that if I'm quick, it won't make sense enough for him to understand, but at least I'll have planted the seed. He'll ask, and having nothing left to hide behind, I'll have to tell him. I'm not so much worried about revealing the fact that I've been married before and why it is that I'm now not. I'm more scared of revealing that I had children. I can't tell him that I am physically capable of having more children, but besides the fact that I was once advised not to, I don't want to. Not even with him. Not anytime soon.

How do you tell someone you love them and then tell them you won't give them children? Talk about the ultimate slap in the face. If I were on the receiving end, I'd be completely insulted and utterly crushed. That's why I told him I _can't_ have children, he simply thinks I'm unable. _Can't_ sounds as if it isn't my choice and it can be sympathized with. _Won't_ on the other hand, seems cruel and uncaring.

It will probably ruin everything eventually, actually not it, _I_ will. That's why I need to conjure the courage to tell him the truth about everything soon. I just hope the love he has for me is strong enough to forgive me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Having Derick's family for the Thanksgiving holiday was amazing. I'm beginning to feel like I have a family again, though it's a different kind. It's not the husband and kids, though the husband part is quickly becoming a reality I'd never expected. It's that I never had a sister, a nephew, and in-laws, and though they legally won't hold those exact titles until after we are married, they are already those people to me.

We decided to take them to the airport, buying us a little more time with them. There's talk about Christmas already, but I don't know that I can leave here on Christmas just yet. I hug his father feeling like I'd done it a hundred times and kiss his cheek. His mother Liz hugs me so tight that I can barely breathe, but I don't want to let go. In just a few days, she's stolen the place of being the best mother figure I've ever had. She kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear so only I can hear, "I'm so glad you found him, Julia. He loves you, and we love you too." She steps back to give me a reassuring smile and both our eyes are glossy with tears. I can't speak without crying, so, I just smile and squeeze her hand.

I feel a tugging on my leg and I look down to see my favorite little man, Issac. "Ju! Ju! Don't cry, pwanes are fun."

I pick him up so that I can hug him. "They are. But I don't get to go on the plane with you today."

"Thas why you sad?"

"Yup, because I'm going to miss you, sweetie."

"I miss you, Ju." And he throws his little arms around my neck and gives me a big squeeze. "I come back, kay?"

"I can't wait. I miss you already." I kiss his head and lower him to the ground, where he hits it running to meet his father's arms. If for no other reason than to see that little guy, a trip to California may soon be in order.

I hug Carrie and tell her I'll give her a call when we start making wedding decisions though I have already decided that I want her to stand beside me, as my matron of honor. Besides the fact that I have no one else, we've bonded these last few days. She reminds me so much of Derick that loving her is easy.

Not being able to get through security without a ticket, we watch them go. Derick hugs me close as we walk back to the car. It's just him and me again, and the aspect of our relationship has changed. Time to see how we do in the real world, outside of the bubble the last four days has provided.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It's been a couple of weeks since Thanksgiving and all is back to normal, my new normal. My new normal makes it easy to forget my old normal sometimes. Glancing down at my ring, I just can't believe how the last two months have changed me. Having someone to lean on and draw strength from can make all the difference. With Derick, I don't have to take it all on by myself, though a few things, I still do. Not for long though, I'm going to tell him everything soon. If he's going to love me, he needs to love all of me and know all of me. I can and want to keep him for as long as possible.

Life back at work has changed very little. We made no announcement of our engagement but did become a little less secretive about the fact that we were indeed in a relationship. We walk in together in the mornings, leave together in the evenings, and I always wear my ring that I'm sure hasn't gone unnoticed.

My early mornings and late nights don't happen so much anymore either, but when they do, Derick is right there with me. He knows that old habits are hard to break and that, for a long time, my career was my entire life. He understands the fact, but not why. Luckily, so far he hasn't questioned it. The fact now is that I don't want to spend every waking moment working, not anymore. I'd rather be able to sleep in late next to his warm body in the morning and spend my evenings cuddled up to him in front of the fire or walking Ginger than spend it alone in my office.

Even more, I like being woken up by him kissing my neck and softly stroking my nipples while he presses the front of his body to my backside. Feeling him grow as he moves slowly against my ass and knowing he didn't wake up that way, but that I'm able to do this to him merely by being so close. I love feeling his breath on my skin and the way my hair sticks to his morning stubble. Absolutely everything about starting every day like this is intoxicating. Every fiber of his body is making love to me, at the same time he's fucking me, which means there's much more there than love. There's desire, and when it's unleashed, my only desire is to surrender myself to him. To completely lose myself and leave my body to his every whim. It's a win-win. I'm never left unsatisfied, and he always wants more, which I am completely willing to give. More often than not, we're running out of the house with coffee in to-go cups and zero regrets.

We still like to spend lunch together in one of our offices most days, but they've turned into working lunches. They aid in avoiding the late nights. We worked well together before we started seeing each other, but there was always an underlying tension. I felt it then but only realized how thick it actually was once I witnessed its absence. It wasn't a tension based on anger or insecurity; it was based totally on restrained passion. Now that we practice very little restraint, the tension has left the building.

We're in my office sharing a sub from the sandwich shop down the street. With Christmas only a week and a half away, we're reviewing the staff schedule and deadlines. I usually try not to accept deadlines this close to a holiday, especially one that is so family orientated. The office is closed on Christmas Day, and I don't like to make anyone work the days following either. I, more than anyone, want my people to have that time and to cherish it. Although I don't engage in personal relationships at work, when it comes to the holidays, I'm the softest person here. In the past, I would work if needed just so everyone else could enjoy the time with their families.

"Well, it looks like everything is covered. We had three people volunteer to work Thursday and Friday after Christmas if needed. But, if things go smooth this week, they won't need to be here at all."

"Have you given any thought to going to my parents' house for Christmas?"

"I have, and as much as I would love to, I need to be here. Frank is going to spend Christmas with his daughter, and someone needs to be here, close, just in case." His face falls. I know he wanted to go. I'm not lying about Frank leaving and it's true someone should be in town for incidentals, but there are other people that can do it. I'm not going to tell him that. I have to be here because I have traditions I'm not ready to break. Traditions like visiting Alex and the kids on Christmas Eve. I wish I could erase the disappointed look from his beautiful face. "You should go without me."

"Absolutely not! If you can't go, I won't go. It's our first Christmas together, Jules. Besides the fact that my mother and nephew would kill me for showing up without you! You don't really want me to go, do you?" How could I have even suggested it? Of course, I don't want him to go. I don't want to spend another Christmas alone.

"No. I don't. But I would understand if you did. I don't want you to feel like you have to choose me over them." Honestly, if he did decide to go without me, I would probably want to rethink everything we have but I've learned this lesson and would never keep him from his family. That would be equally unfair since I'm hiding behind what he sees as valid excuses to stay instead of telling him the truth.

"It's settled then. We stay home and spend our first Christmas together, just us. It's actually not a bad idea at all. I won't have to share you, and I can keep you naked all day."

"Hmm. Celebrating Christ's birthday, in our birthday suits. That's an original idea. I think I like the way you compromise." And just like that he's smiling again. Like a little boy who figured out his gift already and just can't wait to open it.

This is one of those moments that makes me feel like I'm being selfish again. I feel as if he had to choose, and he chose me, he chose us. I remind myself that it's not the same. He wasn't choosing between a family that hated the woman he loved and the woman he loves. Derick was choosing to spend our first Christmas together. Together. We both know that his family wouldn't have it any other way.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

My afternoon hasn't been as productive as I had hoped. Jules and I laid out a plan so that spending time in the office wouldn't be how we, or any of our employees, would be spending the holiday break. I hope she's having better luck than I am keeping up her end because I'm failing miserably.

I hate to place blame, but it's actually her fault. Though our compromise to stay here and spend Christmas together leaves me ecstatic, the fact she even suggested I go to California without her bothers me. Why? How could she think that I would take that option only a couple of weeks after proposing to her? Why is she always so willing to take the back seat when it comes to my family? Doesn't she realize that she is the number one person in my life now? If not, I'm somehow not making it very clear to her and I need to remedy that immediately. What's happened to her in that past I know so little about, that makes her unable to accept this?

Truthfully, my patience is getting a little thin when it comes to all the things I don't know about Jules. Sure I can tell you most of her favorites, how she takes her coffee, and that she plays the cello. But I hardly know anything about her childhood, or whether she's ever been in love before, or why she keeps all of that away from me. Why do I feel like she's got a handful of secrets and possibly no intention of sharing them with me?

As if I needed another interruption, my phone chimes to let me know that I have a text message.

Unknown CA number: I'm in town. I need to talk to

you.

Me: Who is this?

Unknown CA number: I see you deleted my number. It's Ann.

Ann? What in the hell?

Me: Why are you here? What can you possibly want from me?

Unknown CA number: I don't want anything, but I need to see you. It's important.

Me: Anything important you have to discuss with me should probably go through my lawyer.

Unknown CA number: I know where you're working. DON'T make me come to you.

Her use of capital letters is supposed to scare me. It doesn't, but I can honestly say, I don't want her here. I don't want her able to taint this place that has changed my life. Not that I've kept her a secret from Jules, but I don't want her having any part in my life now, any part of Jules. But, I'll admit that curiosity as to why she's here definitely has a hold on me. I can't imagine what could possibly be so important that she'd come all the way to Boston, and insist on throwing threats at me.

Me: Tonight at 6. Coffee shop at the corner of Boylston & Tremont

She doesn't respond, and it doesn't surprise me. She's won this battle and knows it. She got me to give in. Not for the reasons she thinks, but she'll still see this as a triumph. Months ago, I probably would've still answered to her beck and call, even after she had gutted me. Now it's different. I feel nothing for her. Still, my mind is reeling with what this could be about. I think of all the possibilities and come up with nothing.

Suddenly, I'm not so focused on figuring out what it is that Jules is not telling me. I am more worried about what she'll think is going on when I tell her I have a meeting with my ex-wife. As far as I am concerned and have told her, there is absolutely no reason to have to see or talk to Ann ever again. Our break was clean. I didn't fight with her and gave her everything she wanted. I left no loose ends.

Given it's only days before Christmas, I could easily make an excuse to buy the time needed to see Ann, and get her back on a plane to California without Jules ever knowing she was here. But, is that how I want to start my life with her? With secrets of my own, especially when I'm expecting her to expose hers? The answer is no. I want to be honest about everything, to hold nothing back from her. I'm going to tell her on the way home. I've made my decision and plan on following it though.

Julia

I KNOW HE MUST BE getting frustrated with me. He doesn't say anything, and he doesn't ask anything, but he must know by now that there are things I haven't told him. Truthfully, I think it's my own guilt conjuring up worst-case scenarios regarding his patience. Am I going to let it ride until he blows up demanding I come clean? If he finally just got mad and told me he just couldn't continue this without knowing everything, would I comply or would I find a way to turn it around and use it as a reason to run? I don't want to run. I don't want this relationship to be based on untruths that could essentially cause me to lose everything all over again. I'm telling him. I'm telling him tonight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I've been thinking about it all afternoon, making it all but productive. I need reinforcements, things that may make it easier to tell Derick about my life before. Maybe a way to show him rather than tell him. We're on our way home, and Derick seems distracted. He's not talking and has this perplexed look on his face while he focuses on traffic.

"Are you ok?" He doesn't hear me. He doesn't even acknowledge that I've spoken at all. "Derick!"

"Yeah?" Not how he answers me, ever.

"What's wrong?" Something's not right.

"Nothing. I'm sorry. I just have something on my mind." Something that you're not going to tell me, or you would have already.

"Can I help?" He looks over at me like I just offered him the moon, his eyes full of love. He reaches over the console and takes my hand in his and squeezes it.

"Thank you. It's okay, really. Just something I need to take care of. I love you." He lifts my hand to his mouth, kisses my knuckles, and holds them there against his lips.

"I love you." I do so much. "Speaking of taking care of things, I need to run over to my place tonight after dinner. I need to pick up a few things." He drops my hand from his mouth and a look crosses his face, like what I've just said has given him a revelation.

"I actually have an errand to run this evening too. I was just going to skip dinner to get it handled. I'm still full from lunch anyway. I can drop you off on my way and pick you up when I'm done. It shouldn't take me long."

An errand? He never mentioned it earlier. Weird, but I won't push with questioning because it's bought me the time I need and without having to explain why I want to go alone. But, it still hits me as odd, and it's somewhat unsettling.

"I was actually thinking about walking there. But I'll let you pick me up on your way home. I'll just hang out until you're done."

"I don't think I should be too long. I'll call you when I'm headed back. Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off?"

"No. I want to change first, and a walk sounds really good right now. Clear my mind a little, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." I can see the wheels turning. I'm afraid this isn't something good. He's keeping something from me. I'm certain because I've been doing it every day since we've been together. The term _takes one to know one_ quickly comes to mind. But I'm not backing down from my plan to tell him the truth, most of it anyway.

He drops me off at the loft, and I let myself in with the key he gave me the day after I accepted his ring. Walking in alone is so strange. I've never really been here by myself. I set my things on the chair by the door while Ginger hops down from the couch to greet me. Her welcome takes away some of the feelings of loneliness that Derick's absence creates. I give her a good ear rub and collect a few kisses before I head up the stairs to the bedroom, grab my sweatpants and T-shirt, and make quick work of changing. I don't know how long Derick will be, or how long it will take me to get my thoughts together, so I need to get going.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I get to my place, and it feels strange to be here now. For years, I liked the fact that it was quiet and not what I considered _family friendly_. Now it feels cold and lonely, and it makes me uncomfortable. I have no good memories here. I have no memories here at all. No birthdays, no holidays, no dinners with friends, nothing. Besides myself and the utility people, no one had even stepped foot in this place until Derick.

I think back to that first date. I knew after all my fantasizing about him that if he made a move on me, I'd give in. Yeah, I was nervous as hell, but I wanted him so badly. After all, I hadn't been with a man in more than six years and only with one before that. I wanted it, and apparently he did too. It's so crazy to me that I'm becoming slightly aroused just thinking about it, the night that changed my life. Hopefully, after I drop my news tonight he'll reassure me that everything's okay by wanting me like that again. Deep down, I know he will. I hope I'm right.

I go about getting the things I want. Since I'm here, I grab some clothes and personal items, setting them in a pile on my bed. I open the drawer of my nightstand and lift out a box. The box was my father's, engraved with his initials. I rub my fingers over the letters trying to connect with him. It was all I got to keep after he died, and that was only because I hid it from my mother. He kept pictures in it, and when I was little, I would take the box and sit on his lap and ask him who the people in the images were. He told me they were my grandparents and him from a long time ago. He told me a different story every time I'd ask and even though I never met my grandparents, because of his stories I felt like I knew them.

After my father had died, I took the box and hid it in my desk drawer. Over the years, I added pictures of my family. My mom, dad, my brother, and me. Pictures from when we were a family, when we were happy. After Alex and the kids were gone, I added photos of them to the box too, so that all the people that I loved would be together. Whenever I needed to feel close to them, I had all of them, together. I wouldn't need anyone else.

I pick up a couple of other photos and the article from the accident that stays tucked away in the bottom of my drawer beneath the box. I've decided Derick needs to know about the kids too. I feel it's wrong to keep them from him. I don't plan to change what he knows about the fact that I can't have more children because I can't. _I_. _Can't_. In fact, almost right after we started our sexual relationship, I got on birth control to make sure it didn't happen. But right now all he needs to know is that I can't. He accepted it when he proposed and fucked up or not, I'll continue to let him.

I put everything back in the box, having decided to take the whole thing with me. I want to share it all with him. He needs to know why I am who I am. That it's because I've lost everyone who ever meant anything to me.

I come back out to the living room, and my eyes fall on my cello. For the first time in a long time, I want to play it. Not because I'm lost but because I'm perfectly happy. My music is a part of me that existed before any of the tragedy. But because I've always used it to work through tragedy, I've associated it with hurt. I've treated it like an addict would. When I couldn't handle things, it was my drug. It took me away, requiring all my focus, so when I played I felt nothing but the music.

I'm drawn to play it right now. I set the box on the arm of the couch and go to it. For me, just touching it takes me to a place of calm. I glide my fingers up over the strings, over the scroll, and down the backside of the neck. I pick it up, also grabbing the bow that sits beside it, and move to sit on the edge of the coffee table, opening my legs to settle the instrument between them. I close my eyes and take the first draw across the strings, playing the first note of a piece I composed many years ago.

I don't have to think as I drag the bow back and forth over the strings. I let go of everything as I lose myself in the notes. Every bit of apprehension I have, every ounce of guilt, every drop of fear disappears as the music weaves its way through me. I'm transported to a place in my mind where pain and disappointment don't exist.

I don't even know how long I've been playing when I feel the vibration of my phone in my pocket. I shake my head to break the trance the music has put me in. Looking at the clock on the wall, I see it's been about an hour and a half, and I realize that I should be expecting to hear from Derick anytime now. I pull out my phone and see a text from him.

Derick: Running later than I thought. I'm sorry.

Me: Will you be much longer?

Derick: I'm not sure

Me: I can walk back to the loft

Derick: I'm really sorry. Please take a cab. See

you at home

Me: Okay. I love you

Derick: I love you more

I have no clue where he is or what's he's doing and honestly it doesn't matter as long as I know he's okay. The change in plans causes me to lighten the load of things I'll take back with me this trip. I'm not going to take a cab, as he suggested. I got along in this city for a long time without him. I'm still going to walk. I grab a bag from the hall closet, first placing the box and pictures in the bottom, then filling it with whatever else will fit, but keeping it light enough to carry with ease.

I don't mind walking home any more than I did walking here. It's colder out now because the sun is gone, but I'm okay. I'm okay because I know that I'm able to do what I need to do, to tell Derick everything. I feel a calm about all of this that I haven't felt from the beginning, a relief that I won't have to consciously keep these secrets anymore. Now, I just hope that he doesn't think I've already kept them too long.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I get back to the loft, I busy myself with putting away the clothes I brought with me in one of the drawers Derick emptied for me. Then I go down to the kitchen looking for something to eat. My stomach is in knots. I find some cheese, crackers, and salami, adding a glass of wine to the mix, I have myself a meal made to relax me.

Derick is taking far longer than I thought he would and with every moment my nervousness is growing. The decision I made and was so sure about a couple of hours ago is quickly turning into one of uncertainty. I sit on the couch, grab my book off the end table, and open it to the folded piece of paper I used to hold my page. I read for a while until the words start to blur, and my eyes are struggling to stay open. Looking at my watch, I see that it's almost ten.

Worry and panic are setting in. I pick up my phone to see that there are no messages or missed calls. The air in the room becomes almost too thin to breathe, this scene and the feeling that something's not right is all too familiar to me. I'm frozen. If I dial him, and he doesn't answer, I'm not sure I can handle it. So, I just sit there staring at the screen completely numb.

Derick

I PULL UP TO THE COFFEE shop right at six. In this situation, with this particular person, punctuality is not my priority. I actually should have made myself late by taking Jules into the house and taking her body before I came here, making sure I smelled like sex and of her. Marking myself so that maybe Ann would finally realize just how gone I was and that things between us, including friendship, are unsalvageable.

Walking into the shop, it took only seconds to spot her. The typical California girl with blonde hair; another distinct difference between her and Jules. Her back is to me so she doesn't know I'm here yet, and for an instant, I consider leaving, just turning around and walking out the door. But she must sense me, for she turns around enough to look over her shoulder. Noticing me, she tries to connect her eyes with mine and smiles but, just as quickly, her smile fades as she realizes that I'm resisting the connection.

I'm surprised how seeing her doesn't affect me. I don't hate her, but I don't feel one bit of the love I once had for her either. It's funny how moving on and finding Jules has changed me. I'm not even mad at Ann anymore. Every feeling I ever had for her is locked away in a closet of has-beens.

I walk up to the table ready to lay it all down for her. Ready to tell her that she has no business coming here, to my home, and trying to throw around power she no longer holds over me. Besides not wanting her to come to my work looking for me, I came here to not only cut, but cauterize any ties between us. As I approach, I see that she's fidgeting with something on her lap. Probably her purse, digging for her lipstick or some stupid thing. But when I round the table, able to see her front, I see that it's not her purse. It's a baby.

My first thought is that it serves her the fuck right for denying me a child all those years. It wasn't something she would give me, never something she wanted, but, Michael, my oldest and best friend, apparently had a different effect on her. Surprisingly, not even this makes me angry with her. Oddly, I find it humorous and slightly entertaining. I take a seat at the table, a smirk drawn on my face. Let's get this over with.

"Ann." I acknowledge her with nothing more than a curt nod. "What brings you here? A honeymoon or family vacation? Glad to see you looking all maternal these days."

"Wow! I'd imagined you'd changed but this, this is far beyond what I'd envisioned."

"What did you expect? That I'd still be moping around over losing you? Wait that couldn't be, anyway. You lost me. So, where's Michael?" I ask as I look around the shop.

"I'm here alone." She looks down at the sleeping child. "Well, sort of."

"Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise already? You both looked so happy the last time I saw you." There's no hiding the sarcasm in my statement.

"Look, Derick, I'm sorry. I never meant to—" I know where this is going. I can finish this for her.

"Let me catch you fucking my best friend in our bed? What, was he supposed to be gone by then but you two were just so caught up, you lost track of time? Save it, because I don't care anymore. Everything happens for a reason, and moving here was my reason."

"You're happy here?"

"Happier than ever. I'm getting married. Moving here brought me to the woman of my dreams."

"I see."

"So, cut to the chase. Why are you here?"

"I wanted you to meet your son."

My son? Does she think I'm fucking stupid? She's after something, and I'm done entertaining her at this point.

"You've got to be kidding me. Are you that desperate? We've been divorced for more than a year, and he couldn't be more than—"

"Six and a half months old."

I quickly do the math in my head. We separated in September of last year, fifteen months ago. Pregnancy lasts nine months. Fifteen minus nine equals six. Six and a half would mean she was pregnant two, maybe three weeks before I found them together, and we broke up. No matter how I might try to spin it, it all adds up. It's possible.

"But you were sleeping with Michael then too. What is it you're after?"

"Michael's already been tested. He's not the father, Derick. You are. There was no one else."

My head is spinning. I don't know what to do with this information. Do I believe her? Am I an asshole if I don't? I look at the child, searching his features to find something that doesn't fit either Ann's, or mine, trying to eliminate the possibility. He sleeps so comfortably and innocently, knowing nothing of the chaos that's happening around him.

"If you've never been honest with me before, I'm begging you to be now. Are you sure?"

"I came all the way across the country to see you, didn't I? I'm sure."

I run my fingers through my hair, shocked by her words. My gut tells me not to believe her, but my heart says that if this is my child, I shouldn't want to miss a minute of his life. The only part of me anchored to rationality is my head. She's lied to me and cheated on me before. Deceit is nothing new for her.

I look at the boy again. "I need proof. You understand, don't you?"

"I expected that you would."

"What's his name?" It's all I want to know for now.

"Connor." He looks like a Connor.

"How long are you staying?"

"I have a flight back on Thursday." She reaches down in the baby bag, careful not to wake Connor, and pulls out a piece of paper. "I found a couple of labs that do DNA testing. It costs two hundred and fifty dollars, and the results take an average of three weeks. I'll pay half."

"When?"

"Tomorrow or Wednesday, I guess. My flight is Thursday morning."

"Wednesday would work better for me. I can let the office know that I need to step out for a while."

"Are you going to tell your fiancée?"

I'm stunned by her question, but more by the consideration it conveys. But it makes me realize that I hadn't thought about that. Do I tell Jules? She almost said no when I asked her to marry me because she can't have children. How will this news affect her? If it turns out that he is mine, I will have to tell her. She'll want him to be part of us because he's part of me, but in the back of my mind still lingers the question, what if he's not?

Ann seems to be genuine. If I were to find out this was some game of hers, I'd rename her the devil myself. I don't have to answer her question, it's none of her business. How Jules and I handle this is personal and has nothing to do with her. So, I answer inconclusively.

"She's my fiancée." I say it as if the answer is obvious.

She nods in understanding. "Call me about Wednesday." I nod and look at him in her arms. He starts to wiggle and his eyes flutter open. She shifts him into a sitting position and talks to him in a calm but happy tone. "Look who's awake! Did my boy have a good nap?"

He smiles and looks at me. Another smile lights up his face and he lunges towards me. In a protective mode, I reach out to keep him from falling and he places his chubby little hand on mine. His skin on mine. It's entirely possible that this is the first time I'm touching my son.

"Can I hold him?"

"Of course you can. I hoped you'd ask."

She lifts him so that I can grab hold of him and transfer him to my lap. Setting him down, he's soft and warm in my lap. He takes my hand in his and almost immediately tries to fit it into his mouth. I laugh because I remember these days from when Issac was little.

"You're a happy little guy aren't you, Connor? A handsome guy too."

"He takes after his father." Ann chimes in.

I look up at her with disdain. I know what she's trying to do. It's really a shame that I feel this way towards her.

"Let me get one thing clear, Ann. Until we have test results, I can't say that I completely believe you. Unfortunately for you, that's a bed you made. I hold no contempt for this child because it's not his fault. But don't push the fact that I'm his father on me and expect me to drop everything based on your word. We are never going to be together again. If he is mine, I'll be there for him and there's not one ounce of doubt that Jules will love him just the same."

"Julia, your fiancée." It's not a question. She's defeated.

"Yes."

"We were happy once, weren't we Derick?"

"A long time ago, yes."

"You haven't changed, you know? You're the same man I married all those years ago."

"Actually, I'm not. And the fact that you can't see that shows that you don't know me, and you never did. Did you think coming here and telling me I had a son was going to bring me back? Don't forget you made the choice for us. Looking at what I've already gained and what else I may," I look down at Connor, who has managed to cover my entire hand in slobber. "I think your tact was bad, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me."

She can't believe what I've just said and the look on her face hides nothing. She takes a moment to collect herself and returns to the conversation as the Ann I knew.

"I should get him back to the hotel. He needs to be fed and bathed." She motions to Connor.

I hold him up and turn him to face me. "Hey, little guy, I'll see you Wednesday. Be a good boy." I kiss him on his head and return him to his mother. "For what it's worth, Ann, you're good with him. Motherhood, after all, suits you."

"If I had known I'd love it this much, we'd be on our third by now."

"Hindsight, I guess. Did you drive here?"

"We took a cab."

"I'll drive you two back. It'll save time."

"I'd appreciate that."

I help to carry his bag and carrier out to the car and Ann carefully straps him into the back seat before climbing into the front seat with me. I feel like I'm cheating on Jules by having Ann in her spot. It's just one more mental battle I must fight right now in light of this new information. I don't make conversation on the way and neither does she, making it the perfect ending to our imperfect encounter.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I drop them off and decide I need a little time to let this sink in. I don't know what to think of all this, and I don't know how to feel. But what scares me the most is that I'm not sure how this will affect Jules. I go to the Public Garden, to the bench that has recently brought me so much happiness. It's where Jules and I started as a couple. It's where she said she'd marry me. It must be the place where I'll find the answers I need this time too. I text Jules to tell her I'm running late. I need just a little more time.

I end up losing track of time with the array of questions and thoughts filling my mind. At least a dozen _what ifs_ and half a dozen more _hows_. But the one thing that keeps resurfacing is that I felt no connection to him. Isn't the bond supposed to be natural and instant? Shouldn't I just know?

The fact that I don't know scares the shit out of me. What kind of father will I be if I can't feel my child? What scares me even more, though, is for years I wanted this so bad, I wanted to be a father. Now that it's possibly happening, it's not that I don't want it any longer, I just don't want it with _her_. This will turn my world upside down, or even worse, tear it apart. I can't be a good father from three thousand miles away, but my life is here now.

I stand and walk to my car knowing I need to go home, but not knowing what I will tell Jules. All I need to worry about for now is tonight, an explanation for where I've been. I'm not going to lie to her. I'll tell her Ann came into town, that we had coffee, and that there's some unresolved legal issue that's come to the surface. It's not the whole truth but true nonetheless. The rest, well, I think it'd be better to wait until I know more. I want whatever I tell her to be sure, especially since I have no clue how this is going to affect us.

Julia

I BEGIN TO DO SOMETHING I quit doing years ago—pray. I don't pray because it seems that too many people only do it when they want something. Right now, I don't care if I fall into that group because I do want something. I want Derick to walk through that door. I close my eyes partly to keep them from filling with tears, but also to focus all my energy on this one request. I don't say anything out loud and I don't need to because I know I can be heard.

I'm startled when Ginger starts to bark and the door opens. Derick! He's here, he's safe! I spring from the couch and into his arms. I don't care where he's been or whom he was with. Right now I just need to feel him, to hold him, and to kiss him.

He must think I'm crazy, having no clue why I would worry enough to behave this way, but he doesn't show any hesitation. I kiss him hard and thankfully, and he matches me, allowing this contact to have a meaning beyond words. The connection I have with him at this moment is like nothing I've ever felt. I want every part of us to touch, absolutely nothing between us.

I start to tear at his clothes while still devouring his mouth. I know his taste, I've committed it to memory, and I can't get enough of it. In a couple of movements, his chest and shoulders are bare. My hands, with a mind of their own, are trailing over his skin, making sure they're touching every inch. I need more, though. I move my hands to his waistline, slipping my fingers into the space between the fabric and his abdomen, feeling the tickle of the hair that makes up his happy trail. The button of his slacks comes undone easily and his zipper follows.

He's been working my clothes off as well, my blouse now open and baring for him my lace bra that is powerless against my rigid nipples. He pulls my hands from his pants just long enough to free me from my blouse and bra. I can tell that his advance on my body carries a different intention, but it's no less necessary than my own. We need each other right now. I need to suppress this constant fear of losing him.

Once free from all material covering the upper half of my body, he wastes no time bending me back and taking my nipple into his mouth. The molten feeling of his warm tongue on my skin takes my breath away and a moan, needy and profound, sounds from my throat. I want him to be doing this, but I feel this uncontrollable urge to taste him, to show him just how vulnerable he makes me. I push him back against the door and after kissing him once more, a hard and dominant kiss, I slide down to my knees. Eye level with his still contained hardness, I take hold of his pants and briefs with my fingers and in one fluid movement pull them 'til he's free and they lay at his ankles.

He's always been the one focused on pleasing me. Another side effect of my selfishness that I was content with, but tonight it's my turn to give him the ultimate pleasure, asking nothing in return. I grab hold of his already hard shaft and it jerks at my touch. Circling my hand around it, I move so that my mouth is at its tip. A small bead of his cum already sits there waiting for my tongue to take it. Licking softly, and starting from the underside, I glide to the top, tasting him. At this moment, there could be nothing sweeter than his arousal for me. It's surging through me as well, making me hotter than ever. He always pleases me, but pleasing him has a much stronger effect on me. It's on a level higher than the greatest pleasure I've ever experienced.

I take him into my mouth and look up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes are on mine, burning into me. I've never felt more open to him and now, I never want to feel any less, ever again. Stroking my mouth back and forth over him, I can feel him grow harder, the heat of his excitement mixing with the heat of my mouth, creating an inferno. I lift one hand to place it on his abdomen, feeling the muscles beneath the skin tensing with his attempt to maintain control. But I want him to lose control, to know that I was able to do that to him. With untamed lust coursing through every part of my body, my own orgasm growing within me without even being touched, I pump harder, taking in as much of him as I can. Feeling the head penetrate the back of my throat, it's like nothing I've ever experienced. My sex life before, the only other one I've had, was satisfying but never like this. With Derick, I feel complete.

I'm hungry to feel him explode in my mouth, to fill me with his release. It feels as though he's turned to stone, the pulsing is quick and powerful. Then, I feel the thick, hot fluid and I relax my throat to take it all down. It tastes like him, like I imagined it would. Licking him clean, I look up again wanting to see his face, seeking his approval.

Without warning, he drops to his knees in front of me and crushes his mouth to mine, forcing his tongue past my lips and tangling it with mine. I've never in my life known such passion as I feel right now because there are absolutely no boundaries, and I never want there to be again.

He removes our remaining clothes and we make love on the floor, in front of the door. Slow and sweet. Serene and passionate. I realize that no matter how long I had been on my own, this man changed all of that, and it's no longer what I want for myself. He also made me realize a fear I didn't know I had, that I'm so afraid of losing it all again. What I have with him, it's not the same as before, it's different because I'm different, and I'm different because of him.

It was in those moments with him on the floor that I learned about another kind of sex. One that isn't about primal instincts or need for pleasure. This was about being and needing to be so close to someone that it feels almost like the need for air. Fearing the worst and being blessed with good makes me even more thankful for what I've been given. And I vow that I will no longer discount or take this love for granted.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It's Tuesday morning, a week 'til Christmas Eve, and I sit in my office restless, thinking about last night. I didn't tell Derick what I had set out to tell him last night, there was an unscheduled change of plans. But I've come to a sound decision, that not only do I have to come clean, I want to. After our encounter last night I feel empowered and no longer afraid of what he'll think. I know he will still see me, the _me_ he fell in love with and asked to marry him.

How could I have been so wrong all this time in thinking that I was doing what was best? Accepting his proposal without being honest with him was by far the worst and most selfish thing I've ever done. Apparently, I was only protecting myself, not him. I'm going to tell him and given the time frame we are in, I've decided how. I drive into Cambridge every year on Christmas Eve and go to the cemetery. I take a bundle of poinsettias for Alex, he always bought them for me every year, and a small gift for Katie and Toby. I talk to them and tell them about my year, how much I miss them, and how much I love them.

This year, along with the flowers and the gifts, I'll formally introduce them to the man who brought me back to life. I know they'll be happy for me, that they already are because they all loved me too much to see me alone and unhappy. For the first time, instead of worrying that this will break us, I'm positive it will make us stronger.

Derick walks in the door of my office around ten. Now that we're no longer hiding, yet not flaunting our relationship, we sit in my office and have coffee while we go over work and schedules. Striding over to the coffee pot in the corner, he reaches across my desk to take my cup as well. After filling them, he sits in his regular chair and just gazes at me. I know what he's thinking about because I'm thinking the same thing. Last night is still so vivid, a memory yet it almost seems like it happened only moments ago. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth remembering how his smooth skin felt on my lips and how he tasted on my tongue. I start to feel warm and I'm positive I'm blushing.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who can't get the visual out of my mind." His words are so low and thick, I'm sure he's sporting a semi.

"Am I that bad at hiding it?"

He nods his head in an affirmative motion and that sexy smirk of a smile appears on his face.

"Well, the experience did leave quite an impression." My, oh my. Did it.

"That it did." I know I'm blushing again, if I ever stopped.

Feeling myself becoming turned on by the tenor of this conversation, I need to change its course. I shake my head hoping that the brain cells containing work thoughts will fall to the front so we can focus.

"So everything's on schedule and having it all clear for next week looks promising."

"Anything significant going on tomorrow?"

"Um, no," I say while looking at the calendar. "Why, what's up?"

"I just need to step out for a couple of hours in the morning."

"Oh, okay." Twice in two days? "No problem." I know my tone has changed and he picks up on this.

"My ex-wife is in town. Apparently there are some unresolved legal issues regarding our divorce and she came to Boston."

"Is that where you were last night?" Do I really want to know the answer?

"Yes."

"So late?" I know there's nothing to worry about, but I'm a little hurt that he didn't tell me about this sooner.

"I know I should've told you. She texted me yesterday and I didn't know what this was all about 'til last night. I went to the park afterward, to sort it all out. I'm sorry."

"Is it serious?"

"I don't think so. We have a meeting in the morning, then she'll go back to California and... we'll see."

I try to act like I'm focusing on the paperwork in front of me because I don't want him to see the hurt that must be evident in my eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He leans in over my desk and takes my hand. I still refuse to look up, but he starts to speak anyway. "Jules, she's the poison that I came all the way here to escape. She's my past. You—look at me, Jules." I look up, my eyes glossed over with tears. He lets go of my hand and comes around the back of my desk. In the same way he has before, he spins my chair around so that I face him, crouches in front of me, and takes one of my hands. With his other, he softly wipes away a tear that has escaped and rolls to my cheek. "You are my present and my future. You're all that matters to me. I love you. After tomorrow, she'll be gone, hopefully forever. It was a bad call not to tell you. I just didn't want her to be able to do this, to make you feel like this."

I don't know what to say, so I stay silent searching his face. I know that being upset with him makes me a hypocrite, but just the same, what does him withholding things from me say about him? But in all fairness, what has it been saying about me?

Derick

BACK IN MY OFFICE, I come to the conclusion that I'm a dick and a liar, and quite possibly setting the stage for ruin. Especially if this test says that Connor is, in fact, mine. But it's too soon, both in our relationship and in this process with Ann to say anything. Wasted stress and energy are all it's going to create. I keep telling myself that, trying to justify this behavior that's completely out of character for me and that I'm not comfortable with.

I'm so torn. I can't just act as if there's not a chance that he's my son. Given the time frame of all related events, it's completely possible. So, if I start off denying him and find out he is mine, I'm a dick and a liar where he's concerned as well. There's no win-win here. I will lie to someone, the woman I love, my child, or both. All this is new territory for me, having no clue what I will do.

I'd love to be able to call my mom right now, to let her talk me through this and guide me in the right direction like she always has. But, this is something I don't even want to tell her about. So, once again—I'm a liar. Denying my mother her grandchild is something I'll never live down. I'm sure she'll understand why I'm skeptical but, in the end that's not the point. It's not an excuse for stolen time.

A text chimes in on my phone and as I swipe at the screen, I see it's from Ann. I programmed her number into my phone yesterday. "Unknown CA number" could've been anyone from back home, at least now I have a warning when it's her. I don't really want to hear from her right now, but I know avoiding her will only fuel her to pursue me more aggressively. I look at the screen and there're no words to her text, just a picture. It's of her and Connor in front of the huge Christmas tree displayed at Faneuil Hall.

Jules told me about the tree and its history. In fact, we had planned to go see it this weekend. Seeing Ann and Connor in front of it now, even though it's just a picture, changes it for me. It was supposed to be something special for Jules and me, part of our first Christmas together. Now, as I look down at the picture, I see something else that should be special to me. This may also be my son's first Christmas. How am I going to juggle my life with Jules here and with my son on the other side of the country? If he's mine, I can't stand the thought of not being with him. The more I think about it, I can't stand that I've missed all this time with him already, and I'm about to lose more.

I save the picture to my photos and press the button to lock the screen. I will continue to work on this new obstacle, but I need to keep things right with what I have. With what I know is mine—Julia. She feels like I betrayed her, and I have. Unfortunately, I am going to continue to for a while longer. I know she has things she hasn't told me, and for the sake of making me feel better about my own secret, I'll assume she does it to protect me somehow. Well, now I feel that I'm protecting her. I'm protecting us.

I pick up the phone and dial my new friend, Laurette. She owns the flower shop and helped me set up the most incredible proposal scene when I asked Jules to marry me. Now I need her expertise in saying sorry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

Jealousy is not a feeling I'm familiar with. I've never had a reason to be. Besides school and work, Alex and I spent every other waking moment together. Derick and I are much the same, until last night. He feels that, in some way, he was protecting me by not telling me whom he was with. He doesn't realize that while he was with her he reopened a wound so deep and so emotional. It wasn't jealousy, it was fear. Fear of not knowing where he was meant I might never see him again. Now knowing whom he was with and that he intended to hide it from me, opens this new feeling of jealousy.

I'm hardly able to focus on my tasks due to the number of thoughts speeding through my mind. It's a week 'til Christmas Eve, when I plan to introduce Derick to my former life. I'm still sure that it's the only way I'll get through it, and then my secret will be out. But now there's this thing with Ann. He said that tomorrow they have a meeting, then she'll be gone, back to California. I hope he's right. I've heard of women who never appreciated what they had until they know for sure that they can't have it back. Is she one of those women? Did she hear about our engagement and now wants to swoop in and dangle herself before his eyes, knowing he did once love her, and hoping she'd get him back?

I can't think about this, not like this. He told me himself, she's a poison and that he loves me. That should be enough, shouldn't it? I think it's only because I know that he did love her once that this all hits me so hard. He moved over three thousand miles away to escape her and a life that never provided what he needed. All that way, to find and save me. The bottom line is I'm scared because I'm not ready to lose my hero.

A knock at my office door interrupts the small amount of attention to my work I've managed to maintain. Looking at the time on my monitor before granting my interrupter entrance, I see that it's already noon. I've pissed off an hour and a half—great.

"Come in!"

Derick walks in with two buckets of food. If my sense of smell is functioning correctly, I'd say they're filled with clam chowder. New England comfort food, exactly what I need. I stand from behind the desk, moving things across its top to make room for him to unload our lunch. He's good, real good. The only other thing he could've done to make my day better would be to bend me over this desk and fuck me senseless, reminding me that I'm the one who drives him wild. Too bad my fantasies of desktop office sex surpass my abilities to act spontaneously and adventurously. But looking at my desk and then looking at him makes me seriously want to rethink my reserve. Suddenly the hunger in my stomach is squashed and replaced by another kind, a little further south.

We sit together on the _visitors'_ side of my desk, quietly eating. For the first time since we met, the conversation isn't easy and I don't know what to say. There's an elephant in the room and it's sucking out my ability to act casually. It's been in my head all morning, and it's untamable. I'm relieved when Derick speaks first.

"I want to take you to dinner tonight. I think a nice relaxing meal and a bottle of wine are in order this evening."

"We do that all the time at home." Once the words are out of my mouth, I feel like an ass for discounting his suggestion. "I'm sorry. It does sound nice."

He looks defeated for a moment. "Making things up to you after being a jerk is not going to be easy, is it? I guess it shouldn't be. At least it's out of the way." His words are not laced with any attitude. He's not angry or being smug. Then it occurs to me, what's he talking about?

"What's out of the way?"

"Our first argument."

"We didn't argue, though."

"Maybe not, but I was a dick. You could've, probably should've, kicked my ass and you didn't."

"I'm not a fighter."

"I guess that's lucky for me. I'm sorry, Jules. I won't let it happen again."

"Nobody's perfect." I say this knowing that it applies to me as much as him.

"No, but together, we are."

"Yeah, we are."

Derick

I MADE RESERVATIONS AT BLU, located inside the Ritz-Carlton. I know it's a kiss-ass move, but I do indeed have ass to kiss. That fact was made even more apparent when Jules told me she wasn't a fighter. When it comes to work, she'll throw it down in record speed, but when it's personal, she keeps it in. Sometimes it's almost like watching a real-life Jekyll and Hyde. The woman I see in the office is a far cry from the one I see at home. I am thankful for the one I get every night and weekend, the one that's soft and passionate, but at times, like right now, I wish she'd just let me have it so that my guilt would subside.

Laurette did tell me that the way a man handles his first fuck up is critical. Ignored and denied will lead to a cold and lonely bed. Sincere and apologetic lets a woman know you care and that _fucking up_ isn't intentional. Although I'd like to be in complete agreement with the latter, I can't because I don't intend to tell her about Connor yet. So I guess, if that one comes to a head, it will, in fact, be intentional. I just hope it won't come down to that. Again, the _dick_ in me emerges. Hoping that Connor's not mine, feeling deep down in my gut, that he's not. There was a time when I wanted nothing more. Now, unless it's with Jules, I don't want it at all.

After tomorrow morning, the longest three weeks of my life will start. Waiting is not a strong characteristic of mine, and all the patience I can muster is reserved for my lady of secrets. I figured after we were engaged, she'd open herself up a little more. Last night was a bit of an eye-opener for me, though. Her reaction when I opened the door, I could tell she had been crying. I have a feeling that the last time she was in a similar situation, the results were much different.

When I got home, I needed her. I needed to be close to her, after the bomb that had been dropped on me. I needed to feel the comfort of having her with me. She needed the reassurance of knowing that I was still there to be with her. Sexually and emotionally she bared herself to me without uttering a single word, needing me as well, but in a different way. I will always be here for her, no matter what. We will always find a way.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I've never taken Jules on a proper date. We've had many lunches, dinners, breakfasts, and coffees, but never a real date, aside from our first. Never anything fancy. In an effort to create the perfect experience, I took the liberty of arranging our wardrobe for the evening. Actually, Laurette did, and at a quarter to five my secretary, Brandy, knocks on my door.

"Come in!" The door opens, and I see her standing there, arms full of plastic-covered garments, and another bag with shoeboxes.

I stand and rush over to help her, taking them from her arms, and lightly scolding her for not asking for help. "Thank you, Brandy. Why didn't you yell for me? I would've helped you."

"It's no big deal, Mr. Edmunds. It looks harder to handle than it really is." She sees the red fabric of Jules' dress escaping slightly from the white plastic covering. "That's an excellent color. For Ms. Morreau, I assume?"

This is odd. It's the first time I've actually been confronted about Jules and me. I know everyone knows about us, but I've never heard anyone talk about it.

"Yes. You are correct."

"She'll look stunning." Her choice of words is perfect and sincere.

"Yes, she will."

I know she will. I don't even need to see the rest of the dress to know that. I know how the color will accent the smoothness of her skin, and how it will bring out those amazing green eyes. I know I'm in trouble. Tonight my thoughts mustn't be focused on getting her out of it, but that will be a difficult feat. I want tonight to be special, to emphasize the feelings we share. It's apparent that we both need each other's strength to get through something that neither of us knows the details of. But I have to assume that we are keeping our secrets for the same reason, to protect each other and ourselves.

I hang the garment bags on the coat rack, set the bag of shoes on the floor and turn back to Brandy, who's still standing there.

"Is there anything else you need, Mr. Edmunds?"

"Not today. Why don't you go ahead and leave a few minutes early? I'll see you in the morning."

"Thank you. Have a good evening." She leaves and I pull my phone out of my pocket to text Jules.

Me: I have something for you. Come to my office.

Jules: You'd better still be dressed

Me: I hope so too, my door is wide open

Jules: On my way

She walks in a minute later with a smile on her face. After this morning, I wasn't sure I'd see a smile until later this evening, and even then, I was only hoping.

"What are you up to?" She's looking at me quizzically.

"Our dinner plans. We don't have time to go home to change, and these rags," I say as I motion to our professional business attire, "just won't do." She looks down at her outfit and back up at me, questioningly.

"Okay? So what are we going to do about it?"

I reach over to the coat rack removing her bag and I hand it to her, then go back to pick up her shoebox. She looks at me with curiosity and surprise which tells me this is all going in the right direction.

"We'll change here. Consider yourself Cinderella. No fairy godmother, but you now have the dress and the shoes to enjoy an absolutely wonderful evening with the prince of your choice." I point my fingers to my chest, indicating that I'm the prince in this story. "But unlike Cinderella, I promise everything, the shoes, the dress, and the prince, won't disappear at midnight. Well, the dress might, you may keep the shoes on if you wish." Instantly, thoughts of her before me, wearing nothing more than a pair of fairy dust covered heels, race through my mind and bring a mischievous smile to my face.

She closes the distance between us, and with my office door wide open, she kisses me. Not long and hard, but short and sweetly. "How did I get so lucky finding you?"

"You didn't, I got lucky finding you."

Julia

AT FIVE O'CLOCK, I GO to the restroom to change into the dress Derick gave me for dinner tonight. All of this is right out of a fairy tale, and I'm won over by the excitement of feeling like a real princess. I settle the hanger on the door hook and take to removing my clothes, not at all worried that they are falling to the floor, in a semi-public restroom. I lift the plastic off the dress and gasp at what I see: It's red, beautiful, and sexy. I run my fingers over the silky red fabric. I can't recall ever wearing something so beautiful, except for perhaps my wedding gown.

When Alex and I started dating, we were young and had no money for fancy, elegant dinners. When we finally had money, we had kids and never wanted to go anywhere or celebrate anything without them. This night will be among the many firsts that Derick has brought into my life.

Pulling the zipper into its place, where it stops to rest at my lower back, I realize that I was right to remove my bra but because of that, I also notice how bare I am left. The dress itself leaves very little to the imagination, but from the waistline up, my back is left completely uncovered. I step out of the stall and up to the mirror. Wow! Whoever picked out this dress must like Derick a lot. Seeing it on the hanger, I thought it was sexy, and I still do, but it's a classy sexy. Fitting all the curves of my waist and hips, and cut a couple of inches above the knee. The front is fashioned low to drape over my breasts, so just a hint of cleavage can be seen. I remove the shoes from the box, a pair of iridescent, glittered heels. A little higher than I'm used to, but definitely doable.

My thoughts go to the comment Derick made about keeping the shoes on after the dress disappears. After seeing them, and with that in mind, I think I may be adding another first to my list tonight. I brush through my hair, freshen up my eyes, and apply just the lightest touch of gloss to my lips. I hope that when I walk out there, he sees what he hoped for. He had made comparisons to princes and princesses and even as a child, wearing fluffy dresses and fake crowns, I never felt more like one than I do at this moment. Which is very fitting, because he's the one that rescued me.

I walk out to see him standing there, waiting in the entryway, in a black suit and red tie. My prince. I walk towards him slowly, enjoying the fact that given the look on his face, he's not disappointed by what he sees.

"You're gorgeous."

"You're pretty handsome there yourself."

"Like the shoes?"

"Love them."

"Good." With a wiggle of his eyebrows, I know where his thoughts are, and I like it. "Our car is outside. Are you ready?"

I see that my coat and purse sit on the reception counter, and he grabs the coat and holds it for me to slide my arms in. "You thought of everything didn't you?"

And handing me my purse he says, "I hope so."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When we get downstairs and step out onto the front walk, I expect to see our car. So I'm puzzled when I see a black sedan and chauffeur, who opens the back door when he sees Derick. He places his hand on the center of my back and leads me to our waiting _carriage_. Ushering me in first, he shares a knowing look with our driver and joins me inside.

"You have gone above and beyond, Prince Charming. Wherever are you taking me?"

"You will see soon enough, princess."

The sun has set and all the lights of the city are giving their finest show. Through the windows I watch, trying to figure out where we're going, but also knowing I really do want it to remain a surprise. Excitement boils inside me, and I like the burn it leaves, almost as much as the heat that Derick's touch leaves on my upper thigh. He's watching me, I can feel him. I like knowing this, that while I'm watching the scenery fly by outside the window, he can't take his eyes off of me. Love and lust permeate the space we occupy, creating an obvious and mutually desirous energy.

We pull up to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, and the car comes to a stop. I love this city, but this is another place I've never been. The chauffeur exits and reappears to open our door. Derick steps out first and holds out his hand to help me make my exit. We walk in and find our way to the elevator; upon entering he presses the illuminated number four. Exiting the elevator, Derick leads us to the hostess podium and gives her his name.

Without any wait at all, we're lead to a table near the window, which gives us a beautiful view of the Paramount Theatre on Washington Street. There are blue lights bouncing off the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a crystal votive holder with a burning candle in the center of the table. Lying on the side of the table, nearest the glass, is a bouquet of roses. Knowing that the number of roses holds a message, as I take my seat, I also take to counting them. There are fifteen.

"Fifteen?"

"I'm sorry." Tonight was not just a date. It's an apology. "Need I say what for?"

My mind flutters back to the conversation in my office this morning. "I think I know. I also know that you told me earlier that you were sorry, and your words were all I needed to forgive you."

"I just need you to know one more thing then."

"What's that?"

"I love you more than anything. I never want to hurt you again."

"I love you too, and I know."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The evening carries on with a view that could only be triumphed by one of the man I was here with. We enjoy a fantastic dinner, easy conversation, and nearly two bottles of expensive, very potent red wine. Needless to say, we leave the restaurant feeling more than just a little randy for each other. The whole way home we are making out like teens in the back seat of the car and not caring that the driver is getting quite a show in the rearview mirror.

Once at the loft, I walk in and go straight up the stairs to the bed. I throw the bouquet of roses on the bed and turn back to my prince, who, after greeting Ginger, was quick on my heels.

"I don't want you to tell me with words or roses. I want you to show me. And I'm not referring to apologies. Show me you love me, that's all I need to know."

He doesn't utter another word as he closes the distance between us, not stopping until his mouth is on mine and his hands are on my bare back, caressing my skin before relieving the dress' zipper of its duty. Without much effort, the straps of my dress fell off my shoulders, weighing down its front and exposing my bare chest.

Our mouths search the other's carnally, causing us both to become breathless. He breaks the kiss, and as I fight for air, he moves to explore other parts of my body. My jawline, my neck, the hollow of my shoulder. Kissing, sucking, and licking my skin into a fevered frenzy. My inhibitions are numbed, but my senses uprisen, the burn in my belly and the ache between my legs becomes stronger with every touch. My hands pull at his tucked in shirt, removing it from my way, so that I too, can feel his skin. At my touch, he sucks in his breath, letting me know that my touching him has the exact same effect his touch has on me.

He lifts his head from my neck. I definitely have his attention now, and he's looking into my eyes, willing me to make my move. I pull on his tie, bringing him closer to me so that I can kiss him. I love his kiss alone, almost as much as I love what usually follows. Holding him there I'm able to make the connection. Soft and passionate, I'm captivated by his taste, by his smell. I start unbuttoning his shirt. One, two, three, seven, and now the tie. Pulling on the knot, the silk slides easily, to fall undone and hang loosely around his neck. I push his shirt open and touch him, raking my fingers through his chest hair, scratching him lightly.

He decides that the time has come to switch roles and kissing me a little harder than just a moment ago, he pushes the straps of my dress further down. I drop my arms to allow for its smooth descent to the floor and then step out of it. Now I'm left wearing only my heels and a pair of white lace panties. Grabbing me below my ass, he lifts me up, and I move my legs to wrap them around him. He takes us closer to the bed, and then lays me down, so my head is right next to the roses, and he takes one from the bundle. As he straightens up to stand between my legs, he raises my legs to rest them on his shoulders. He then begins grazing them lightly with the petals of the rose, from my thigh to my ankle, stopping at my shoe.

"These look much better right here than they look on the floor."

I only smile in return, because I couldn't agree more. He continues to brush the rose's petals over my body. Back down my legs, between my legs, over the skimpy panties I remain wearing, over my stomach, across my nipples. His intention is clear, and my body is reacting as requested. I'm panting, begging for him. He follows the flower with his eyes, poetically, touching me twice as he goes on.

When my silent pleas exceed want, but express need, he places the rose's stem in his mouth, between his teeth, and lowers himself to me. He brushes his lips over mine, nudging them open to accept the rose. I take it, and in that moment of pure erotic nature, I never noticed that all material separating us has disappeared, and he's nestled himself between my legs. Ready for him, so ready I can wait no longer, he makes his entrance. Throwing back my head and arching my back off the bed, I've never felt so completely filled and, because of the erogenous nature of our foreplay, my orgasm hits almost immediately and with a force I've never in my life experienced.

He works masterfully, and my body responds to his puppetry, as he causes wave after wave to crash over me. Finally satisfied with the pleasure he's brought me, he allows himself to find his release. With short, quick thrusts, he suddenly stops and holds himself inside me, as close as he can get, his body wrenching with small quakes. He collapses on top of me, resting his head between my breasts, struggling to even out his breaths. He finally is able to speak, though his voice is exhausted and raspy.

"You are amazing, Jules. Will you ever completely believe me when I tell you that?"

"I'm working on it, but you are the amazing one. I'm not an uncomplicated woman, and I don't pretend not to know this."

"Did I satisfy your evening's request? Can you see how much I love you?"

"You did and, yes. Yes, I can."

Derick

WEDNESDAY MORNING COMES WITH A bit of a headache, which I haven't decided whether it is a result of the wine or the internal warning signal telling me that keeping the nature of this meeting with Ann away from Jules, is a huge mistake. After last night, and not for the first time, I feel guilty about keeping this secret. I know she won't turn on me, she'll understand that the surprise is just as big for me. I also know that if there were ever two people together, able to make it through a situation like this, it's us.

Jules has woken up a bundle of energy. She's back to herself, and that alone makes me happy. As she hands me my coffee she asks, "Are we taking the train in this morning since your car is still at the office?"

"I suppose we can. It doesn't make sense to have both cars there."

"Hey, I thought of something this morning." I love seeing her this way, excited about what she's about to tell me.

"What's that?"

"We need a Christmas tree! It doesn't have to be a big one, and it'll fit in that corner, over there." She points to the corner, and I turn to examine her plan.

"You've got this all figured out, don't you?" She sets her coffee on the counter and walks up to me, slides her hands around my waist, and plants a quick peck on my lips.

"Yup, and it's our first Christmas. We should have a tree. This is our chance to start new traditions together."

"You won't be getting an argument out of me. When would you like to go?"

"Tonight if you would like, or we could wait 'til the weekend."

"If last night was any indication, you should know you have me wrapped around your little finger. You tell me when and where, and it's a plan."

She hugs me so hard, you'd think I just told her she could have a new puppy. She is, by no means, hard to make happy. The simple things, love and honesty, are all she wants. Love, I've got that one down, and hopefully I'll tame the honesty demon very soon.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Around nine, I get a call from Ann. Part of me wants to let it ring, but more of me wants to get this done and get her back to California as soon as possible.

"Good morning, Ann." I'm trying to fake a good mood, but recognize myself, that I'm failing.

"Don't try to sound so convincing. Okay, anyway, meet me at the medical center on Tremont Street in an hour. Will that work for you?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"All right. Text me your address so I can get the paperwork done when I get there, and we should be in and out."

"What do you need my address for?"

"For the results. They notify both parties by mail."

"Okay. I'll get it to you. See you there."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ann and Connor are sitting in the small waiting room when I walk in. I walk over to them, not even trying to fake a smile, it's no secret that this is not where I want to be. Ann acknowledges me with a smile and Connor with bright eyes and bubbles.

"Hey, little guy." I hold out my hand and he grabs onto the finger with the same natural instinct Issac had as a baby. Followed by the instinct that says, _if I can hold it, it goes in my mouth._

"Would you hold him for a minute, so I can put myself together?"

"Of course. Come here, little guy." I lift him from her and sit him on my leg, supporting him in the crook of my arm.

"Not bad there, dad." she says, and I just glare at her. "Sorry." She breaks eye contact by focusing on repacking Connor's bag.

"Did they say how much time before our turn?"

"Um, we've been here for about half an hour, so, any time now."

"You understand, don't you? Why it's so hard to trust you?" I have to get that out of the way for two reasons. One, to reiterate that I don't trust her, and two, to see if she has enough human decency to admit why that is.

"I do. I just hope that one day, you'll get past the anger you have for me. At least for him." She gestures to Connor in my lap. "Can I ask one favor?"

Feeling defeated and disappointed with my attitude towards her, I'll consider whatever she wants. "Yes."

"Can I take a picture of the two of you together?"

It's a simple request, and one day, I may even appreciate that she asked, so my answer comes easily. "Sure."

She pulls out her cell phone and calls Connor to get his attention. As he looks to her, following her voice, I look too. The shutter sounds and her face lights up. She turns the phone to show me. "Thank you."

"Will you send it to me, please?"

She nods and her eyes gloss over. Then I hear my name.

"Edmunds. Derick and Connor."

I acknowledge the nurse, and stand with Connor, still in my arms. Ann picks up the bag and carrier, and then follows closely behind. Once in the room, I'm asked to sign the waiver, stating I understand the procedure, the time frame for results, and that I understand that said results can be used in court for paternity and custody proceedings. Clearly understanding, I sign the form without reading it for myself. Two mouth swabs later, Connor is none too happy. I can't blame him, and I'm thankful that he won't remember this experience. I have absolutely no trouble caring for this child because he's a child. Still so young, sweet, and innocent. What's not to love about that? But, I still don't feel the connection I think I should. But, I've done all I can for now.

Parting from them did not give me that sweet sorrow feeling, but I did try to memorize specific details of Connor quickly. His chunky little hands, his blue eyes with the longest eyelashes I've ever seen, and the two little teeth sticking out of his bottom gums. If he is mine, I'm already going to have to live with the time I've lost. The time that Ann stole, along with my trust. I'll want to be able to tell him what I know of the few good memories we had. But until then, the rest is left to science, and fate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I get back to the office, I go straight to Jules' office. I walk in with purpose and shut the door behind me. She looks up from the papers on her desk, a worried and questioning look marring her beautiful face.

"Is everything okay?"

"For now, yes." I walk behind her desk, I lean in placing my hands on the arms of her chair, giving her no escape, and I kiss her. There's only one thing I love as much as I love kissing her, and we can't do that right now. She kisses me back, not a hint of resistance. I pull back, knowing that if it were to go any further, I'd have a real issue. "Now, everything's perfect. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Let's get our tree tonight. I can't wait to have _our_ first tree, our first everything. The first of many things _we_ will have together." With a small part of the weight having been lifted from my shoulders for now, I can focus on the great and new memories we are making together.

"You're crazy, and I love it! Let's do it."

Julia

IT'S WEDNESDAY EVENING AND WE'VE just bought our first Christmas tree. Having kept only a few from my ornament collection from before, I decide we should start fresh. Derick picks out the star and he makes a beautiful choice. It is made with pieces of red stained glass, cut for the five points and circle in the middle, brought together as if sewn, with silver metal wire. It has a small string of lights up inside, that when lit, make the glass glow. I love it.

For the basic decoration, we agree on red silk bows and white lights. We rush home, overfilled with excitement, like little kids. Derick takes to putting up the lights while I make us cups of hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps. A bow here and there and finally, the ceremonial placing of the star. It is perfect! It may be because of a little too much schnapps, we may never know, but I decide a Christmas selfie is needed. We call Ginger over, and I set the timer on my phone's camera and prop it against the candle on the coffee table. Quickly taking my place next to Derick, the flash goes off. Laughing, I retrieve the phone to see how it turned out. It couldn't have been any more perfect if it was taken by a professional. Derick and I with Ginger in front of our first Christmas tree. We've just created our first family picture.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As busy weeks go, the week before Christmas offers no rest for the wicked. Both work and after work are loaded with things to be done. But, even with that said, Derick and I are back in our groove. Ann went back to California Thursday morning, and I could tell her absence put Derick at ease. I have no idea why she was here, but it flustered him, and _that_ flustered me. Sometimes, I barely know how to function in my new life, I don't need crazy ex problems too. But now that she's gone, I can definitely feel the difference. Thank goodness.

Thursday and Friday night we spend shopping for gifts that we should've bought weeks ago. I'm out of practice and, well, Derick's a man. Last minute shopping is in their DNA, so I let him take the lead, going along to add a special woman's touch here and there. All our gifts for his family have to go out no later than Saturday, and with second-day shipping to make it on time. Stressful as it may be, I do miss the camaraderie of the holidays, and because I've evaded it for all these years, I may be the only one of the thousands of last-minute shoppers, that finds it refreshing.

Wrapping the presents on the living room floor in front of the tree, I realize that none of them are staying here. It dawns on me that neither of us has brought up the subject of gifts. We do things for each other all the time, not because it's a holiday or because we have to. So, looking at the tree, I have an idea. It was one of my old traditions, one that I want to resurrect.

"I have an idea."

"What's that?" he asks while struggling with a bow. I reach over to help, the resolution being a feminine touch.

"Every year, I would like us to buy each other an ornament, something personal. A gift for Christmas morning. In a few years, our tree will be covered with sentimental pieces of us."

"I like that a lot. Speaking of gifts, what would you like Santa to bring you this year?"

"Absolutely nothing. After all, I've been a very naughty girl." I wiggle my eyebrows seductively.

"You say it like it's a bad thing!"

"I did not! But anyway, Santa came early for me this year. Right around two months ago, to be exact." There's instant recognition in the look he gives me.

"I guess we're both off his list then. I'm done wrapping for the night, how about you?" I look down at the few things left, they can wait until the morning.

"I suppose. Why?" He stands and holds out his hand to help me up.

"I think we should get started now so we can secure our names on the naughty list for next year too."

"Save Santa the trip?"

"Absolutely."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

Saturday brings on our trip to the post office, which I've decided is my new most hated destination. Jules warned me that this would happen, she also mentioned that the wait wasn't going to be nearly as offensive as the cost of expedited shipping. But, she stands here with me, trying to keep up a jolly holiday attitude. She does, nonchalantly, point out that last minute shopping may work when you're in the same city as the recipient, but not so well when you're across the country. I respond with a mocking _scrunchy face_ and she laughs at me, knowing that she is right.

After almost an hour and a half and a hundred and forty-seven dollars we are free and empty handed. Wondering what we will do with the rest of our day, Jules has an idea.

"At Quincy Market, right next to Faneuil Hall, they have all these little kiosks and shops. I'd like to go there to see if I can find a little something, for a special someone." She gives me a wink. "We can split up for a while and meet up for a late lunch at The Black Rose. And you'll also get to see the tree."

" _The_ tree? The one you told me about?"

"Yup, we didn't get there last week. It's another Boston must see."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We're not too far from the loft, so we drive my car back and take the train. It's not that bad of a trip: Arlington Station to Gov't Center, and then to Aquarium. Everywhere we plan to go is within walking distance from there. Jules is so in her element, every time we step into the city, I see something about her, a sparkle, that I don't see anywhere else. There's no chance she'll ever leave here, creating a very possible obstacle for the future.

Holding hands constantly, unlike the first time we went out together, she guides me down State Street, and surprisingly, even in the cold there's lots of foot traffic. Of course, natives don't think it's cold like I do. If there isn't snow, it's not that cold. Stopping at a crossover, where there's a cobblestone street to the right, she points ahead to the The Black Rose.

"That's where we'll meet up later. Now, the tree and more shopping!"

She's so excited and pulls me down the cobblestone street. Past an alleyway on our left, I can see groups of people, and hear carolers ahead on the right, and then, the biggest Christmas tree I've ever seen. It's two stories tall, or taller, and is decorated with lights and bulbs as big as beach balls. I've never seen anything like it in my life. I can now understand why this city puts sparkles in her eyes. When you consider all the history, art, and architecture, who wouldn't love it?

Although it's an impossible task to get the whole tree in the shot, I am the one to insist on a selfie this time. Cuddling close and holding out my phone, I lean in to kiss her as I hit the button but she also turns at the same moment. What we get is a picture of us looking at each other, backlit by thousands of twinkling lights. It's perfect.

Julia

WE BREAK APART AS PLANNED to shop in the marketplace. I knew what I was doing when I asked to come here, kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I need to get an ornament for Derick, but I also need to get something for the kids. My choice to take Derick with me on Christmas Eve is still as certain in my mind, as it was the day I made it. He needs to know. If I keep this secret any longer, it will ruin us.

Looking through all the kiosks, most of them with sports gear from all our teams, I spot a cart with ornaments. I walk over to see what he has. Footballs with the Patriots logo, baseballs with red socks on them, first Christmas, and then I see it, a globe. I pick it up and let the ribbon dangle from my finger, and as it spins, I take in the distances, if even on a little ball, between where Derick came from, and where he is now. This one's it, and I have an idea. I pay the man for the first of many ornaments I plan to get him and put it away in my purse.

Perusing the other stands, I see ornaments for the kids too, just little somethings. Taking them a gift helps me to feel like I'm maintaining a motherly privilege and responsibility of long ago. It's small, but a necessary thing in my life, just like letting Derick in on that part of it is. I can't lose him; it's gone so far beyond the day I decided I wouldn't give him up. He's my air now, and when I thought I'd lost him the other night, my air was gone.

I know we settled on no gifts, but I decide to break the rule and pick up a few things for him. Given that he's told me he has no real sports team loyalties, maybe we can convert him to becoming a New England fan after all. I buy him the token Red Sox baseball cap, a Patriots scarf, and a Celtics T-shirt. I almost laugh out loud picturing him wearing all three at the same time, and given that I bought him no bottoms, just those three items, oh my. Yes, this Christmas will be a turning point for us. He'll know my deepest darkest secret, and my heart will be at peace knowing that the man I love will know everything, and love me anyway. A weight will be lifted from my heart and shoulders, forever.

When I think of how, in such a short time, he's come to mean so much to me, I still can't believe it. How, when I thought something had happened to him, I felt like life had been sucked out of me. It's then that I realized just how deep I am. I'm forever deep, there's no doubt, it's just like he promised. "We have forever now." Those words and how genuinely he said them still makes my heart skip a beat.

Done with my shopping, I head to the pub, a handled paper bag in my hand that I was sure to top with tissue paper so he can't see its contents. It's not busy in the pub, not for a Saturday night, but it's also only three days 'til Christmas. I quickly cover the space with my eyes, looking to see if I was the first to arrive. But, there he is, at the booth in the corner, with two beers already on the table.

"How long have you been waiting?" I ask as I walk up to the table.

"Only a few minutes. I ordered you a beer. Figured that if you weren't here by the time mine was gone, I'd drink it myself." His mouth turns up in a teasing smile.

I slide into the booth next to him and kiss his smiling lips. "Sorry, I ruined your plan, handsome."

"My plan was not ruined but rather enhanced, by now having a wicked, sexy woman to share this beer and the next one with. I'm a lucky guy."

"That you are, but we won't have the _who's luckier_ discussion, again. Not right now." I pick up my beer to take a drink, bringing the bottle to my mouth, then stop midway when I realize what he just said. "Wicked? Who have you been hanging out with? I've never heard you say that."

"I heard some kids in the marketplace say it. It wasn't hard to figure out its meaning by how it was used. Figured it was a _Boston_ thing, and that you might find it a little sexy." He moves his eyebrows up and down trying to be sexy, but looking a little dorky.

"Babe, everything you say is a bit sexy to me." And not being able to help myself, I lean in to kiss him again. I love kissing him. I do not, however, like being interrupted by cute, young waitresses while I'm kissing him.

" _Ahem_!" She makes that sound with her throat, the sound of being busted. I turn to see her standing over me and instantly feel the reversal of our roles. I'm acting her age, maybe twenty-two, and she's acting mine. With hardly what I would call a smile she asks, "Are you ready to order?"

"Uh, yes. I'll have a cup of clam chowder and a lobster roll." Then I turn to Derick, and he orders the same, but adding two more beers to his request. Once she's gone, I look at him with wide eyes and start giggling. "She's a tough one. I hope she's not studying to be a teacher. Those poor kids don't stand a chance."

He laughs with me, then says, "Maybe she doesn't have this." He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer next to him, and I think I know the "this" he's referring to. "During the holidays, everyone is so focused on family and love. People without one or both of those things get hardened. It's sad really."

"I guess I know what you're saying. There was a time when the holidays did nothing but make me sad. I didn't want to ruin it for anyone else, but I was angry and jealous that everyone around me could enjoy it."

"And that's not the case anymore, huh? What changed it, that feeling?"

Turning slightly in his arms so that I can see him, I answer his question honestly. "Not what, who. You changed it."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

A little tipsy when we leave the pub, I am thankful for two things. The fact that we took the train and that alcohol warms you up a little because it is cold as hell outside. To try and change the mood of our waitress, Jules leaves her a generous tip and a short note. "Hope you have a Merry Christmas. It'll get better, I promise."

We laugh and joke on the train ride home, behaving like fun-loving college kids. Probably, but not intentionally, offending a few others on the train. I manage to, but don't want to keep my hands or my mouth off her. By the time we get home, it takes us no time to warm up. Not even making it completely through the door, before bags and coats are landing on the floor, and our hands are quickly removing the rest of the layers between us.

Lifting her, as I've become accustomed to doing, with her legs tightly wrapping around my core, I carry her up the stairs and to our bed. In minutes, our previously shivering bodies are now covered in sweat. A true testament to the power of body heat. With most of the alcohol's effect worn off, it's gone from _we can hardly wait_ to _we have all the time we want_. Our lovemaking is not hurried, but slow and sensual, the kind that could last almost all night. Kissing and touching along the way, exploring places you already know, but feeling as though they're new again. There's no doubt it will end, and happily, but it's the kind of sex that just feels so good and so connected, that you don't want it to.

Knowing that exhaustion will take us both soon, I roll off her and turn her so that I can lay behind her. I pull her close so that I can enter her again from behind while I spoon her. Her arm comes up and her hand slides behind my head, finger laced in my hair. My arm draped over her hip so that I can reach down and touch her nub, massaging it so that our passionate lovemaking will ultimately lead to our mutual release. She's panting now, and I can feel her starting to tighten around me.

Keeping the pace with my hand on her, and quickening my thrusts, I feel myself on the edge, just waiting for her signal. She goes almost rigid, clutching me from the inside, so tight my body stands no chance against it. We come together, her moans sounding like notes of music, beautiful and fluent. Then we both fall lax. Her hand comes to join mine, where it lies over her stomach. I don't move away from her, my plan was not to have to, and I intend to stick with that plan. She squeezes my hand, and I move my head just enough to kiss her temple.

"I love you, D. I'll love you forever."

The way she says these words; they go straight to my core. She doesn't say things she doesn't mean, and though I've heard them before, right now they sound different. "D," just "D." It's the way I sign notes to her, but she's never called me that. She's dropped another wall, or at least opened the door for me.

"I love you too, Jules." I whisper. I've said it to her a hundred times or more, but she doesn't hear it tonight because she's fallen fast asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Early the next morning I'm up, as usual, before Jules. So I leave her to sleep while I take care of one of her gifts, or rather a gift I want her to give me. Her condo key hangs on the hook by the door, so I quietly grab it and my car key and slip out the door. She'll think I'm out running, so if she does wake before I get back, nothing will seem amiss. I get to her condo and park. Luck would have it that the doorman I know is on shift. I was a little worried about that, especially when it's time to leave. He waves me through, and I head up, on a mission.

Once in the front door, I waste no time getting what I came for. I walk to the cello in the corner and pick it up from the stand. Looking around, I assume she has a case for it somewhere. I set it back down and think for a minute. In a closet or maybe the spare room? It's as good a place to start as any. I open the door to the spare room, which is occupied by a queen-size bed and a nightstand, but no case in plain sight. I open the closet, and there it sits in the corner, score! I grab it and while turning to leave I look back in the room. There's a picture on the nightstand. I get curious and move closer to see it. Maybe it's someone from Jules' family, and maybe I can learn something about her from it.

It's a picture of a man with two children. A boy and a girl, but no Jules. Ex and kids? No, she doesn't have children. I'd know about them by now, and she told me she couldn't have them. The picture's not old enough to be of her, but I do know she has a brother. Maybe it's her brother or a roommate? Who knows? No mysteries will be solved today. I set it back on the nightstand and grab the case heading back to the living room to pack the cello, suddenly feeling like I'm being a nosy boyfriend.

Leaving the building, the doorman gives me an odd look at seeing the cello in my hand. Feeling like an explanation is due and not wanting him to think I'd just strode in and stole a possibly rare and expensive instrument, I smile and say, "For a Christmas Day performance." With that, I get a smile and a wave in return.

Mission almost complete, I stop for coffee and some Danish pastries and head home to find the still sleeping princess in our bed. That gives me the opportunity to tuck the cello in the living room closet, where it won't be found until I make my request on Christmas Day. Then I go back upstairs with the coffee and bag of Danishes in tow and climb back in bed with the love of my life.

Julia

I WAKE UP ON CHRISTMAS Eve already feeling the relief the day will bring. Having our first Christmas together and starting the new year with nothing between us is a thought that makes me calm and settles well in my heart. Derick did his usual thing, waking up early and going for a run. I wait until moments before he gets home to start my shower, knowing that he will join me. Showers together are now a morning ritual that I love and, sometimes, need more than a cup of coffee. But, as long as no one's making me choose between the two, I'll continue to have both, greedy as it may be.

I called yesterday to have a poinsettia and loaf of fresh pumpkin bread delivered to the office today, and I put the gifts I'd bought for the kids in a holiday printed gift bag out in my car. I told Derick I'd drive us in this morning. He didn't ask why or try to change my mind; everything is going as I planned.

We'd made an announcement yesterday, that the office would be closing at noon and that everyone would receive full pay for the day. It's something Miljone has done ever since I've worked here. Of course, I only appreciated it because it allowed me to get to Cambridge earlier, so that I could see my family, so to speak. This year, it serves that same purpose, but then I will finish the evening at home, in front of a fire with Derick and Ginger. How quickly everything has changed from all the years I spent alone, but somehow I'm now content.

There's not much left to do at work, because, with Derick's help, we are caught up and ready for the time off. We make such a great team, both professionally and personally. I sit at my desk figuring I should call Henry to let him know I'd be at the cemetery as scheduled.

Henry is a groundskeeper at Cambridge Cemetery. I met him the first Christmas Eve after the accident. I didn't want to go out on Christmas Day because I didn't want to interact with people, see families, have people say "Merry Christmas," when for me, there was nothing _merry_ about it. So, I went to Cambridge on Christmas Eve, to find the cemetery was closed. I stood there at the gate crying, upset that I couldn't get in to see them. Henry appeared. He's an older man, maybe mid-sixties, in overalls, a button-down wool coat, and one of those silly looking earflap hats.

"Can I help you, miss?"

"I don't think so, sir. But thank you anyway for asking."

"Given where you are, I needn't ask what brings tears to those lovely green eyes. But humor an old man anyway. Maybe I _can_ help."

"My family's in there." I pointed through the bars. "It's my first Christmas without them and the gate's locked. Had I known, I wouldn't have waited until today to come." A few more tears rolled down my cheeks.

"I do understand. I never did quite get why they'd be closed for the holiday, lots of people wanting to be with their loved ones that can't."

"I'll be okay. But would you mind doing me a favor?"

"What's that, miss?"

"Can you take these to their plots for me? And tell them I'm sorry?"

"I'll tell you what. I'm a sucker for pretty girls with green eyes, and I hate to see them cry. I'm going to let you take those gifts to them yourself."

An astonished smile covered my face and more tears spilled down my cheeks. He unlocked the gate and held it open for me to enter, then locked it behind me. "Thank you so much, sir." I hugged him, a stranger who just gave me the greatest gift ever.

"You go on now, but take your time. I'll be up around here when you're done."

When I was finished, which is a loosely used term, I went and found him where he said he'd be.

"I know you didn't have to do that, but I can't thank you enough. It was the best gift anyone could've given me. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just plant a kiss on this cheek." He pointed to his left cheek. "And promise me I'll never have to see another tear in them pretty eyes again."

"I promise." I leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"I work every Christmas Eve. Wouldn't bother me at all to see you again next year." He smiled and winked at me.

"It's a date. What's your name?"

"Henry. Yours?"

"Julia. It was truly a pleasure to meet you today, Henry. Thank you so much."

"The pleasure was all mine, Green Eyes."

Every year since, I meet Henry there on Christmas Eve. I've learned over the years that he loves pumpkin bread and insists on calling me, Green Eyes. I've also learned that he works on the holidays because he too, has his wife there, and it's where he wants to be.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At noon, Derick walks into my office.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes." I look around, making sure I've left nothing undone. "Yes, I'm ready. Let's go. Will you grab that poinsettia for me, please?"

"For the loft?"

"Uh, no. You'll see."

"A surprise, huh?"

"Kind of, I guess."

We get in my car, and I tell him I'm taking him somewhere, somewhere very special. I'm still sure I want to do this, but my hands are sweating, and my heart is beating so fast it feels as if it could jump right out of my chest. It's not the uncertainty of what I'm about to do, but the result it may have.

Even with holiday traffic, the drive only takes about thirty-five minutes. We pull up to the gate, and I park just past it. Derick has to have seen the sign that read Cambridge Cemetery, and I can only imagine what may be going through his mind. Soon, babe, you'll know everything.

"Ready?" I ask, not knowing if I actually expect him to answer. He's probably freaking out right now—I would be.

"If you are?" His question as an answer, is very suitable for this situation. Still holding the poinsettia he adds, "Does this go too?"

"Yes."

I exit the car and grab the bag of gifts and the loaf of bread from the trunk. I'm as ready as I'll ever be, and I lead him to the gate. I see Henry, walking towards the gate knowing I only have a minute before he makes the distance. I shuffle everything into one hand and grab Derick's with my free one.

"I love you. Remember that, okay?" I say it with all the sincerity that I feel.

"I love you. You, remember that."

Henry makes his way to the gate. He's a little slower than last year and has a mild limp on his right side, but his smile hasn't changed.

"Merry Christmas, Henry!"

"Merry Christmas to you, Green Eyes!" We embrace in a hug, many years between us now. Then he reaches out a hand to shake Derick's.

"Henry, this is Derick, my fiancé."

His eyes go wide at the announcement, but he smiles from ear to ear. "Had a feeling some young whippersnapper was going to come around and steal you away one day."

"He's new here, from California. Santa Barbara, right?" I look to Derick for confirmation.

"Yes. It's nice to meet you, sir." Derick gives Henry a respectful and firm shake.

I hand Henry the bread. "We're going to go-you know—now." I nod my head in the direction we'll be headed momentarily. "We'll be back in a while to visit more, okay?"

"Okay, Green Eyes. See you in a bit."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick and I walk along the path, hand in hand. He's still holding the plant and I hold the bag with gifts. As we get closer, I feel like I should say something, maybe lead up to the introduction.

"I'm sure you're curious. This is a little weird, I guess. I told you I had a painful past. Given our location, I suppose it's a little obvious. These people were, and still are very important to me. But you are very important to me too. It's time I bring these two worlds together." We stop in front of three headstones, the one in the middle larger than the two on the outside. "Derick, I want you to meet, Alex, Toby, and Katie Morreau."

He looks at the stones and back to me, looking like he's got an idea, but still questioning what this means. "They have the same last name, your last name."

"My husband, my son, and my daughter." I say pointing to each of the stones as I reveal its occupant. I thought I was going to be the one to pass out at some point, but Derick has gone pale on me. My new worst nightmare may be coming true as I speak.

Derick

IT IS OBVIOUS WE ARE here to see someone she'd lost, but I feel like I am hit by a tanker truck when she says it is her husband and kids. I am outside, surrounded by oxygen creating life, plants, and trees, but I can't breathe. This is big, but not in the way she thinks. The look on her face, she is panicked, her eyes filling with tears. Another glance at the stones, then back to her and all I can think to do is hold her. I place the plant on the ground and pull her to me.

We stand there for minutes, I have no clue how many. I just hold her tight and run my hand over her hair, kissing her head, and letting her cry. Another look at the stones tells me that this was almost seven years ago and all on the same day. By the time she releases from my grip, I feel I've regained myself. I'm ready to face this, but she's the first to speak.

"I'm so sorry. I know I should've told you, but I was afraid of this. If you can't —"

"Stop. I know what you're about to say, and that's not what's going to happen here. I'm not leaving." Her eyes, now red and swollen, gloss over again at my words.

"But I would understand. I should've told you, I was afraid you wouldn't stay. Afraid you'd find me broken, afraid you'd think I could never love you the way you deserve."

"I don't see any of that. I see you, the woman I fell in love with. The woman I promised to spend forever learning everything about. Knowing fully that you had a past. I don't see a broken woman. I believe I may very well be looking at the strongest woman I've ever known." The gloss in her eyes from seconds ago is now a river of fresh tears. I continue to hold her and will do so until she no longer needs me to.

It's hard to know what to say, what to think. There're a million words going through my mind, but none seems to be right, so I don't speak at all. If he were still here, I wouldn't be, but she would be happy, and I would have been none the wiser. If Ann had never cheated on me, there would be no question about Connor's paternity, and we might still be together. If. The biggest little word.

She breaks free from my hold and ends the silence, by speaking to them.

"Merry Christmas. I want you all to meet Derick." She grabs my hand so that I'm right next to her. "These years have been tough without you, but the last couple of months have been a little easier." She squeezes my hand, letting me know it's me that's made that so. "Alex, your poinsettia, to remind you of me and how you gave me one every year we were together." She picks it up, kisses one of the leaves and sets it to the side of his name, careful not to cover it.

"Katie, I decided to resume my ornament tradition. I know how much you loved that, almost more than anything else you got on Christmas morning. So, this year I got you one of a cell phone. You would've gotten a real one at this age, and there's no doubt, that in true fourteen-year-old girl fashion, I'd think it was super glued to your ear. Funny, but I think the fights we may have had over that would have been very interesting." She sets the ornament at the center of the stone.

"Toby, the new PlayStation came out this year, so I got you a game controller. I'm sure that you would have been addicted to online gaming. No doubt you'd be making friends all over the world and never leaving your room any longer than it took to eat. Or so, that's what I hear happens nowadays." She places his ornament, facing outward, as though she was placing it in his hands.

She kneels in front of them and keeps talking to them. "Work is still there, but I've cut back. That's how I met Derick. He and I share a position now, and well, it leaves less for me to do. He's a lovely man, and he takes care of me. I love him, and he loves me. I'm a pretty lucky girl to have him. So, you won't have to worry about me being alone anymore." I feel like I'm intruding on a very personal moment. She doesn't ask me to give her time alone, but to be honest, I'm not sure she's still conscious that I'm even here.

"I love you all so much and miss you every single day. But," she pauses and turns to look at me, holding my eyes while she says the next words. "I'm okay now. I'm living again."

She kisses her hand and presses it to each of the stones, murmurs words that I can't hear, and then rises to her feet and comes to my side. She grabs my hand and leads me away. I look back once more to take note of the one detail all three stones have in common, besides the name. The date: January nineteenth, two thousand seven.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

We walk for a few minutes in silence. He's giving me time and leaving it to me to decide when I've had enough. My heart finally feels free, as I knew it would, knowing that I'm not hiding this from him anymore. I drop his hand to move closer to him, and instinctively his arm goes around me. I feel I need to say something, but I don't know what.

"So now you know everything. No more secrets, I promise."

"How did it happen? If you don't mind me asking."

"Car accident. The morning I was hired at Miljone."

"Jules, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I can't imagine."

"The other night, when you got home late. I thought it was happening again. I survived it once, Derick. I'm not sure I could do it again."

"I'm not going anywhere. Ever." He kisses the top of my head and we just walk.

Taking our time, we walk the scenic route around the grounds, which takes thirty minutes or so before we meet back up with Henry. He's made coffee and the bread is set out and ready to cut. It's a nice way to end the trip, visiting with him, telling Derick the story of our meeting. Besides Frank, Henry is the only other person I'd call my friend. We only see each other once a year, but the time we spend together is more valuable to me than he knows. I don't know what I'll ever do when he's gone. I can always pick another day to see Alex and the kids. Enough time has passed now that I could concede to that, but seeing Henry, I can't even think about it without getting sad.

When we leave, I give Henry a kiss, in the same place on his left cheek as I did that first day I met him. "Take care of my Green Eyes, Derick."

"Yes, sir. I will." The men exchange a look and a handshake. Then they both smile at me.

"You two, stop it already! D, let's go home. Good night, Henry."

"Good night, Green Eyes!"

At the car, I ask Derick to drive. I'm weightless as I expected to be by finally telling him the truth, but exhausted just the same. Of course, he agrees but reminds me that he doesn't exactly know the way and that I'll have to stay conscious to give him directions. I agree to the terms, but I fall asleep anyway. I'm awoken as he lifts me out of the car. I tell him to put me down, that I can walk, but he just keeps going.

"I got you, babe. We're almost in."

He carries me in and up to the loft, carefully laying me on the bed. He undresses me and tucks me in under the covers. But in a last burst before the knockout, I recall the words in my mind begging to get out.

"Nope. I got you, babe." Then, I'm down for the count.

Derick

WITH JULES FAST ASLEEP UPSTAIRS, I go back down to the kitchen to spend some time alone. I pull down a bottle of brandy from the cabinet over the stove, and then grab a glass and a handful of ice cubes. Filling the glass about half full, I sit there for a moment, shaking it to chill, then throw it back. Once the liquid's burn starts to dissipate, my thoughts slow down, and I'm able to think clearly again. With Jules passed out in the car, I didn't have to speak, which was a blessing because she couldn't misinterpret my silence. My thoughts were so scattered and moving so fast that I had no idea, if I were to have spoken, what would have come out of my mouth.

Today was really something. It was definitely not what I expected when she told me she was taking me somewhere, to be introduced to her departed family. And now, I'm sure that the picture I saw in her apartment was them. It's hard to believe she wouldn't have told me something like this, but at the same time, I understand. When she said painful past, I envisioned asshole exes, cheaters, and liars. I never thought it would be an unimaginable loss. Now, I'm able to piece together some of the things that have happened and some of the things she's said. Now, they all make sense. Like her reaction the other night, she told me herself that it triggered her worst fear and brought back the past. The biggest fear I have now is, having to tell her about Connor.

How can I ask her to accept him if it turns out that he is mine? When I thought it was just that she couldn't have children, I envisioned her being able to embrace him as her own. There's absolutely no doubt, she'd be a wonderful mother. Now, knowing that she's lost two children and is unable to have more, it's just too much. I don't know that I can ask her to do this. The way she is with Issac is amazing to watch, and I had my hopes up to watch her with our kids one day. _Our_ children, not mine with another woman. A kid that I didn't know about until a week ago. I don't know how she'll handle it. If he is mine, I may lose her.

Why is it, that after years of Ann denying me, she's able to give me a child, when it's not her I want one with anymore? After she turned my world upside down? After I've found the woman I want everything with, but may never have it? Damn her! I pour another glass and toss it back, deciding it'll numb all these thoughts and help me sleep. The burn is not so harsh the second time around, and tonight, clarity and relief live in the golden brown liquid. I'm not going to let worrying about that test ruin my Christmas with Jules. There's no sense in making any decisions or admissions about anything, not until I know for sure.

I get up and go to the closet where I've been hiding the gifts I got for her and a box I received from my parents a couple of days ago. First I pull out a set of three stockings that I bought in the marketplace. I hang them over the fireplace, one on each end and one in the middle, perfect. I place one wrapped box for Jules from me under the tree along with Ginger's gift, the box from my parents, and a couple of other little things in her stocking. I know she said she didn't want anything, but that made me _want_ to get gifts for her. It's actually one of my favorite things about her, she wants nothing but my love.

Lastly, I remove the cello from its case and lean it against the wall by the tree. The cello is not a gift for her, but one more part of her I'll ask that she share with me. My plan for tomorrow is not to let anything ruin our day. Not her past, not my past, and definitely not unknowns of the future.

I put the brandy back in the cabinet, give Ginger a scratch and a pat, and place the slat in her dog door before heading up to bed. Dropping my clothes on the floor next to the bed, too relaxed at this point to care, I crawl into bed. Jules snuggles up to me, resting her head on my chest and with her arm around my waist, she pulls herself closer to me. I look over at the clock, and it reads 12:04 a.m.

"Merry Christmas, Jules." I whisper before kissing her on the head and wrapping my arms tightly around her. Thinking she is asleep, I don't expect her to reply.

"Merry Christmas, D. I love you." Her voice is sluggish and uncontrolled, as if she's talking in her sleep.

She doesn't move or say another word, but she heard me, and though, only subconsciously, she responded. I'm sure she isn't actually awake, but it doesn't matter because even in her subconscious, she says she loves me. After the events of the day, she knows it's _me_ holding her now.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Christmas morning brings a wake-up call of kisses on my chest and hands roaming over other, more easily excitable parts of my body. This is already the best Christmas ever. I lie still for a couple of minutes allowing her to think I'm still asleep, leaving her to her mission, eager to see just how far she'll go.

She's relentless in her assault because she knows how to touch me, how to bring my body to life. For an instant, her hands leave my body, only to return to my chest a second later as she's moved to straddle me. Her lips are on my jaw, her hair tickling my chest and the side of my face. Santa left me a vixen.

"I know you're awake," she whispers. "You try to play possum, but your body betrays you."

"How could I possibly sleep with you trying so hard to wake me up?" No doubt she feels how hard I am and her sitting over me is not changing that anytime soon. She continues to nibble and kiss my neck now.

"I may be trying, but you're the one that's hard." What's gotten into my sweet, submissive woman? Whatever it is, I think I like it.

"My goodness, woman!" I raise my pelvis to press harder against the warmth of her sex. She sits back, circles her hips and grinds against me. Her nipples peak and beg for my touch, but my hands go to her hips, holding her to me, urging her movements to heighten my need for more.

"What's the first thing we're going to do for our first Christmas together?" I ask.

"You promised me a naked day." A vixen-like grin plays on her beautiful face.

"We are naked." I'm so ready for her that I lift her hips, allowing enough room for my hardness to spring up. When she eases back down, she slides easily onto me, and if it is any more possible, I just become harder.

"We are. Oh, D!" she calls out. I'm guiding her motion, setting a pace and depth that I know will take us both to a trance-like state, both of us so lost with each other and the feeling. Her sounds of pleasure are feeding my lust and I absolutely love to hear her say my name.

Letting go of her hips, I pull her down so I can kiss her. The combination of the two best things I've ever felt, me inside of her and my lips on hers. She kisses me hard, her tongue dancing in my mouth, her taste is amazing. I am by far the luckiest man ever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

I am straddling him, kissing him, making love to him, and feeling for the first time that I'm giving him all of me. I knew that he was awake as soon as I kissed him, touched him. His body did exactly what I knew it would do. His breathing changed as he involuntarily reacted to me.

Now, together, slow and smooth, there's no rushing anything. This is our day together, and we can spend it however we like, and I like how it's starting. He feels so good inside me, constantly fueling the want for more. He's always had a way of knowing just how I need him and when to change it up. As soon as that thought comes to mind, in one swift move, he rolls me onto my back, taking the upper hand. Turning it up, he pulls out slowly, then thrusts into me, burying himself inside me, leaving no part of him exposed. We are physically as close as we can ever be, nearly one.

Again and again, he is working us both to our breaking point. The pleasure is indescribable, the connection unbreakable, and the passion between us is something I thought to be unattainable. My body is aching for release. I grab his face pulling it to mine and begin to kiss him hungrily, finally taking his bottom lip between my teeth and biting lightly. He reads into my action and with short, quick, grinding strokes, causes us both to fall from that mythical ledge that delivers us to pure bliss.

"Oh, Derick!" I can't stop the exclamation from coming out of my mouth. I've never been a talker, a screamer, or verbal in any way during sex, but with him, I want to. I need to. And I want him to know, especially now, that it's him that does this to me, no one else.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, still breathing hard, kissing and sucking on my sweaty skin between deep breaths. It's forty degrees outside, but it's like an oven in here, our heat radiating through our quarters. I glide my fingers over his back and shoulders, loving the weight of him on me and pulling him closer. He makes me feel safe and secure. As our breathing returns to normal, he lifts his head and softly kisses my lips.

"Merry Christmas, Jules."

"Merry Christmas." I giggle and wiggle beneath him. "It's a good thing we knew Santa wasn't coming to visit _us_. I'd hate for him to see all the naughty things we do."

"Aw, he'd be jealous, and he'd try to take you back with him. I'd have to kick Santa's ass, making me the most hated man in the world."

"Not even Santa could take me away from you." I kiss him softly. That statement couldn't be truer. No one holds a candle to him. "I need coffee. Not that I need it to wake up, you did an excellent job of that, or was it the other way around?"

"Team effort. I'll go and get it made. Besides, Miss Ginger needs to be let out." He rolls off me and even though he's just across the room now, I miss the closeness of him. He pulls on his plaid pajama pants and moccasin slippers, then returns to the bed, leaning over it to kiss me.

"I'll be down in a minute," I whisper before I kiss him back.

I watch him bounce down the steps, noticing he never bothered to put on a shirt. I guess it's impractical to think we could spend the whole day naked, but being that he's still naked on the top, I feel it's only fair to play along.

Julia

COMING AROUND THE CORNER, AT the bottom of the stairs with my red bag in tow, my senses immediately zone in on the essence of freshly brewed coffee. It's instantly followed by the sound of popping grease and the smell of bacon. He's so amazing. I walk towards the tree, _our_ tree, and the fireplace catches my eyes. The logs are lit and hanging from it are three stockings, with his, mine, and Ginger's names on them. My eyes start to tear up, he's making this so real, and by far the best Christmas I've had in years.

I go to set my gift bag down, and thinking that I'm not seeing clearly due to the tears, I walk closer to the tree and realize there's something tucked behind it. I'd recognize the wood anywhere, it's my cello. My prince has been very busy.

Blinking a few times and patting my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, I walk to the door of the kitchen and lean against the frame, just watching him. He's going about his way, almost dancing as he cooks and looking ever so sexy while he does. The bacon pops, and it hits his chest, causing him to bounce back. I jump from my place at the door, running to the sink to wet a towel with cool water. I hold the cloth to his skin, the closeness causing warmth to spread through me.

"It's not usually a good idea to cook bacon without a shirt on, my silly man. How's it feel? Is the sting gone?"

"Is this what I have to look forward to with you?" I'm stunned by his question, afraid that I've done or said something wrong.

"What exactly are you referring to?" My response is hesitant and laced with insecurity.

"You, rushing to take care of me. You, appearing from nowhere when I need you. You wearing the shirt, I'm being scolded for not wearing." He cocks an eyebrow, and a small chuckle escapes him. I feel it vibrate from deep in his chest where my hand is still held against it. The feeling of angst lifts from me as I realize I'm not being chastised for my actions. He wants to make sure I _will_ do all these things. He wants to know that he has it to look forward to.

"Is that going to be a problem?" I say with the look and attitude of someone who's up for a challenge.

"Never."

"Good."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After the best egg, bacon, and English muffin breakfast sandwich ever and partners dish duty, we move into the living room with freshly filled cups of coffee. Derick, sets his coffee on the corner of the coffee table and sits on the floor, crawls towards the tree and takes a very odd shaped present from beneath it. Sitting back on his heels, he calls her.

"Ginger. Come here, girl!" She pads over to him and sits in front of him, waiting patiently. He holds the present up to her nose and crinkles the paper. Her tail starts to wag and her front two paws dance with excitement. "What is it? Huh? Is this for you?" She barks, letting him know that it's time to give it up. "Okay, girl. Here you go. Merry Christmas, Ging!"

She paws and tears at the wrapping until it's gone, then carries her new bone to her pillow. By the look of it, she's a very happy pup. He turns to me as I sit on the couch, witnessing the sweet moment between them.

"Ready?" I can only manage to nod my head approvingly. "Come join me." I get up off the couch, intending to move to the floor, but he stops me. "Grab your stocking first."

I look at him quizzically, knowing he didn't stick to the no present agreement any better than I did. I take it off the hanger and sit on the floor with him, keeping a couple of feet between us so I can see all of him.

"What's in there?" He nods to the stocking.

"Let's see." I stick my hand in and pull out a small wrapped gift. Smiling ear to ear, I set down the stocking to open it. After removing the wrapping, I see it's a key chain, and it has pictures in it. One side is of our family selfie we took after decorating our tree, and the other of us in front of the Christmas tree at Faneuil Hall. "I love it!"

"There's more," he says, but I'm not worried about me. My joy is in watching him.

"I want you to open one too. Here." I reach into my red bag and pull out a gift for him.

He squeezes it a little, shakes it, and holds it to his ear, before taking to removing the wrap. He pulls out the long red, white, and blue fabric and reads it aloud. "New England Patriots? Are you trying to convert me into a New England fan?"

"When in New England. You, yourself told me you have no sports loyalties. Well, around here, that doesn't fly." I take it from his hands and place it around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. "Looks pretty sexy on you too."

"Making it my new favorite. Open another."

I reach into the stocking again pulling out another present. It's an envelope. I open it to see ferry tickets to Martha's Vineyard for this weekend while we're off.

"I've never been there before." I'm embarrassed to admit this. I went from never having time, to never making time and not wanting to go alone.

"Neither have I. Tomorrow, that changes for both of us." Another first. They are certainly starting to add up.

I give him another, his very own Red Sox baseball cap. He puts it on and poses. "What's the sexy factor on this one?"

"Very high. Off the charts."

"Then I love it! There's one more in there." I reach into my stocking and pull out a small square box that's not wrapped. I look up at him, and he motions for me to open it. It's a necklace with a charm. The charm is a key, and it's beautiful.

"It's perfect!"

"When I bought it, it was meant to symbolize you holding the key to my heart, but after yesterday, I think it's safe to say that now, I also hold the key to yours. I entrust you to protect it for both of us."

"Will you help me put it on?" I hold it up to him, turn and lift up my hair. He connects the clasp and kisses my neck. I can't see it, but I put my hand up and touch it. I turn back to him and look into his eyes. "Two locked hearts that found the holder of their key in each other. It's very poetic."

"When you say it like that, yeah."

"You have one more too, but it's silly in comparison to this."

He opens the shirt, and after he gets a chance to look at it, I quickly grab it away to keep him from wanting to put it on too. I like that he's shirtless and wish to keep him that way.

We each have one more gift. He takes mine from under the tree, and I remove his gift from my bag. We exchange them, but I set mine on my lap so I can look on as he opens his, wanting to see his face. Under the wrapping is a satin covered box, the lid that flips up is secured with a button and loop. With finesse, he opens the box and takes the ribbon at the top of the ornament to pull it out. He holds the small globe up at eye level and watches it spin, then stops it with his other hand so he can focus on my artistic additions. On one side of North America, I circled California, right about where Santa Barbara would be, and on the other, I made a heart around Boston. I connected them with a slightly curved line and beneath it wrote: "I found my heart in Boston J & D 2013."

His lips turn up into a smile, and he looks at me, his eyes turning misty. He doesn't have to say anything, and I know exactly what he's thinking, because, like the necklace he got me, it carries meaning for both of us.

He clears his throat to speak without cracking. "Words that have never been more true. Thank you. Now open yours."

I tear off the wrapping to find a box similar to the one his came in, but longer and a little heavier. I undo the button from the loop and lift the lid, and gasp at what I see. Cautiously, I pull it from the box. It's a single glass rose, protected by a glass dome. Holding it up to watch it dangle, I notice words are painted along the bottom edge. I read them quietly as I turn the ornament in my hands.

"From love at first sight to the love of my life, you will always be my one and only ~ D 2013." I'm not able to stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. I set the ornament on the table and practically jump into his arms, kissing him passionately. He bought that before he knew my secret and now, even after knowing, he still gave it to me, just like the key. I never imagined I would have this. One thing I do know is that neither of us is responsible for this gift we've been given, because all along, I had three angels watching over me. They brought him to me, of that I'm certain.

Derick

I HAVE SUSPECTED THAT SHE isn't wearing anything under my shirt, but it hung long enough for me to be left wondering. When she throws herself into my arms, that wonder ceases to exist. Feeling her, hotter than ever through the thin fabric of my pajama pants, turns me on like I've never been before. Learning that such a small gesture could mean so much makes me absolutely sure that every feeling I've had to this point is real. There is no stopping the connection being made right now because she is in charge. Taking my new cap off my head and pushing me down to lie on my back, I am at her mercy.

She slides down my body, kissing my chest and nibbling at my stomach. When she comes to the waistline of my pants, she looks up at me through her eyelashes and smiles while she pulls them down just enough for my hardness to spring loose. Still keeping my eyes locked on hers, she licks me from the top to the bottom before taking me into her mouth. Slow and soft. With no force or urgency, she continues her seductive assault, but as good as this feels, I want to feel her.

"I want to feel you, Baby." Yes, she's in charge, but she readily gives in to my request.

She moves to position herself over me and as she sinks down onto me, so does the top half of her body so that I can feel her peaked breasts press against me through her shirt and her mouth meets with mine. In front of the fire and the Christmas tree we make love. She doesn't know it, but she's given me the best gift ever. Better than the Tonka truck I got when I was five, or the BB gun when I was twelve. Today I didn't just give her the key to my heart and receive the key to hers in return. I feel like she's given me her entire heart.

We lie there for a while, she's tucked under my arm, with her head on my chest. She's writing on my chest with her fingertip, and I swear if I concentrate, I can feel the words "I love you." I know that no matter what happens, we will get through it together, always. There's not one part of this woman that can't love, in fact, she probably values love more than anyone because of what she's lost. I'm not ready to tell her about the possibilities just yet, but I'm confident that the answer won't matter.

After an hour or so has passed, my phone receives a text alert. At first I imagine it's Ann, but I'm happy when I look at the screen to see that it's my mom.

Mom: Are you two awake?

I look at the clock on the mantle and see that it's almost eleven, making it eight in the morning back home.

Me: Yes we are

Mom: We're going to FaceTime you

Before I answer her back, I want to give Jules a heads up. Her hair is a beautiful mess, and she's still only wearing my shirt. Now that I think about it, I should put on a shirt.

"Mom's going to FaceTime us." Her eyes go big as she probably realizes the _just fucked_ hairdo she's likely to have. She bounces up and heads for the stairs.

"Five minutes! Do you want a shirt?" I answer my mom back with a quick response.

Me: Give us five minutes

"Sure, babe." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, it flies over the banister and floats to the floor. I laugh, then remember my new Celtics shirt and pick it up instead. I pull it over my head, fix my scarf, and grab my new hat to put it back on my head. I'm not much of a hat guy, but if Jules says it's sexy, that's all I need. I find it a little amusing to see her scurrying to get ready for this call. Even with _just fucked_ hair, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

She comes back down still wearing my shirt, but has put on a pair of yoga pants and has tamed her hair in a braid. She walks over to the table where she left her ornament and picks it up by the ribbon.

"Come on. Let's get these on the tree."

I lift mine from its box and act as though I'm searching for the perfect spot to hang it. Letting out a satisfied "Ah ha," I hang it and arrange it so that Jules' writing shows once it settles. She hangs hers right in the center and tucks the lights behind it so that the ornament itself appears illuminated. I stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her, and I rest my head on her shoulder.

"It's perfect!" She turns her head to catch me in a kiss when my phone starts to go off indicating the call from my mother is coming through. I pick up my phone and hit the accept icon, not at all prepared for what is about to happen.

"Merry Christmas!" It is so loud that Ginger looks up from her bone in surprise. It was everyone. My mom, dad, Carrie, Tim, and Issac, all yelling the words as loudly as they could muster. Jules and I burst into laughter but return the salutation.

"Merry Christmas!" We say together.

"Well, don't you two look beautiful this morning," my mother says.

"It's already eleven here, Mom, we've been up for a while already. Now, how you got Carrie up and over to your house so early is the million-dollar question," Derick teases, knowing his sister can hear him. The camera turns just a little until we see Carrie's face, with her tongue sticking out at us. "Hey! Not in front of Issac!" I tease and laugh because I just got to scold my sister for the same behavior she scolded me for the last time I saw her. She just rolls her eyes and waves me off.

Speak of the little devil, I can hear Issac, in the background. "Ju, Ju, Ju."

Jules hears him repeating the name he gave her, and happiness causes her eyes to gloss over. His face appears on the screen, and Jules leans in a little closer to see him.

"Issac! Hey, buddy, Merry Christmas! Did Santa come see you?"

"I got a pwane, Ju."

"Wow! That's pretty cool. Is that what you asked for?"

He nods his head exaggeratedly, as confirmation. "Now, I come see you. I fly."

"I'd love that, buddy. How about, I come see you soon?" His eyes go big, and his smile couldn't get any bigger. His mom leans in on him and whispers something in his ear, obviously reminding him of something. You can almost literally see the light bulb come on.

"I made you a pwesent, Ju."

"You did?" She says to him and then looks to me. I reach down for the box I received from my mom a few days ago.

"Did you get our package?" my mother asks.

"Yes, it's right here. I was waiting 'til we talked to you to open it. Did you get ours?"

"Yes, we did. We waited as well. Honey, open the box. Issac's present for Julia is wrapped in blue snowman paper, he picked it out." I look inside and see it immediately. I can tell he helped wrap it too. I hand it to her, and after first making sure that Issac was still paying attention, she starts tearing back the paper. She pulls out a necklace made of colored macaroni and holds it up in front of her.

"It's beautiful, Issac! Did you make this for me?"

"Yup. I painted and got messy."

"I love it, buddy." She lifts it over her head and settles it around her neck. "Thank you, Issac. Ask mommy for your gift."

Carrie hands him his packages, and he makes short work of shredding the gift wrap. Seconds later we hear excited screams as he unveils a new baseball, Red Sox, of course, and a stuffed animal Green Monster.

"Issac, those are from Uncle Derick and Aunt Ju," I say, while we still have his attention. Well, while Jules does anyway.

My timing was perfect too, because we get a quick, "Thank you, D and Ju," prompted by his mom, and he's off. Airplane, baseball, and monster in tow.

"Derick, there is one wrapped in silver paper with a red bow. That one's for Julia." Jules and my mother look on as I take the box and look inside for the gift. I spot it but decide that now is a good time to have a little fun with these women.

"I don't see it, Mom. Are you sure you packed it?"

"Yes, I'm sure! Look again. I know it's in there." I shuffle around the presents, making convincing noises.

"Mom, it's not in here."

Jules tries to look over into the box, but I angle it so she can't see. She smacks me on the arm.

"He's messing with us, Liz."

"No, I'm not. The only present I see in here that's even close to her description is this." I hold up the shiny gift for her to see.

"Derick Edmunds!" my mother yells. "You nearly had me convinced that I hadn't packed it. You're rotten! Are you sure you want to marry him, Julia? I don't think I'd fault you right now if you said no."

"I'll handle him, Liz. I might make him wait a little longer as punishment, though." She smiles at my mother, then looks to me with her chin lifted and a smug smile, one that clearly says "I can and will."

"The hell you will. I'll take you kicking and screaming if I have to." I put the gift back in the box and turn to her, advancing with tickle ready hands.

"Stop it!" she begs. "Liz, help!" Already she's teaming up with my mother. I love it.

"Leave her alone, son!" My head snaps up to my mother's image on the screen.

"Taking her side already?"

"We Edmunds women will stick together." She gives me that look. The one that, as a child, made me stop in my tracks and re-evaluate my decisions. But, I can see her looking past me to Jules, with a smile in her eyes. I think my mom loves her as much as I do. I'll stop tickling her for now but will take full advantage of her ticklish tendencies later when parental eyes are no longer watching.

"Fine!" I hold my hands up in the air. "You two win. For now."

"Thank you, son. Now, give Julia our gift, please." I have no clue what it is, but have a feeling, it's as much for me as it is for her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

Derick hands me the package from his parents. It's a box about the size of a letter-size envelope, covered in shiny silver paper with a red bow that leaves sparkling red dust on my lap. I have no doubt that this gift, whatever it is, is special. I pull at the bow, loosening its hold so that I can slip it off, then carefully lift the edges of the paper so that I'm able to take hold of the box between my fingers and pull it out.

I lift the lid to reveal an envelope, with my name beautifully written at its center. With an excitement I haven't had in years, I peel off the golden seal holding it closed and pull out the folded paper inside. I unfold it and start reading it to myself, only to have tears fill my eyes. I look to Derick, wondering if he knows about this. His questioning look tells me he has no clue.

"What's it say, Julia?" Carrie asks. I make eye contact with my future in-laws, and I do believe that what I hold in my hands is, for just this moment, a secret between them and myself. I take that moment to collect myself before I read it aloud.

Julia,

You have touched not only the heart of our son

but ours as well.

We could never ask for someone that

could better complement our family.

Whatever your dream, we want to help

make it come true.

Our gift to you, on our first Christmas as a family,

is a wedding as beautiful and extraordinary as you are.

We love you, just as our son promised we would.

Love,

Liz & Allen

I let the tears fall, knowing there's no sense in trying to hold them back.

"Thank you, both. This is amazing."

"We know you don't really have any family. We would love to do this for you. For you both."

I look to Derick, who is just as surprised as I am. He didn't know about this. Looking into his eyes and back to the screen, where Allen, Liz, and Carrie are looking back at me, I see _my_ family, and in that instant, I make a decision. I look back at Derick.

"I want to have the wedding in California."

I hear gasps and giggles from the phone and the smile that lights up his face tells me my decision was right.

"Did you hear that, Mom?" Derick says to his mother.

"I did. Are you sure, Julia? Our gift wasn't given to sway any ideas you may have already had for the wedding."

"I never thought so, Liz. Honestly, I want to have it there. It may be the only way you'll ever get me out there." Both Derick and I laugh.

"Well, I think we'd love that. You just tell me when and what you want. I'll handle everything."

I look back at Derick. "I'd love to get married on the beach. Truly connect the East Coast me, with the West Coast you." He leans in and kisses me softly.

"Anything you want." He means it when he says it, he'd give me the stars if I asked for them. "Mom, did you hear that? My fiancée wants a beach wedding."

"Perfect! I'll start getting together some venues for you to look at, right after the holidays."

Derick leans in and whispers in my ear, "You have no idea how happy you've just made her."

"You, have no idea how happy you've made me."

Julia

AFTER WE GOT OFF THE phone with the family, I decide that we need a little relaxing in front of the television while watching Christmas movies. Derick doesn't mind because it means he can cuddle with me on the couch, and he'll be able to doze off without my noticing. Truth be told, I do some dozing myself.

While asleep, I dream of our wedding. I guess with the gift we received from his parents, it all seems so much more real now.

I see us on the beach just before sunset. A light breeze makes sure that my hair doesn't stay in place, but I don't care. I've decided that the only true perfection stems from imperfection and that it'll take more than a misplaced hair to ruin this day.

_We decided to forgo some of the traditions of marriage, such as not staying together the night before the wedding, and my being given away. After all, anyone close enough to me who could take that role is gone. Liz had a fit about the first, but I reassured her that there would be no_ funny business _until after we said "I do." She and I have gotten so close during this experience, and she knows I can be one tough cookie. The perfect match for her son._

There's a circle of rocks at the end of a walkway that's lined with small torches, where Derick and our minister stand talking. Derick's wearing a gray linen shirt and white linen shorts. He's so handsomely casual, and I'm glad we decided to avoid suits and ties for this occasion. He can't see me watching him, but his actions convey that there's not a nervous bone in his body. His mother comes up behind me, and looks to see what has my attention.

"He is quite a sight, isn't he?" She asks, knowing the answer already.

"That he is. I wish I could be as comfortable and confident as he is. It's a quality I'm jealous of, but admire all the same."

"He feels the same about you, you know? He admires your strength. You think you feed off of his, but he also feeds on yours, as it should be."

Looking at him, I see a future I never thought possible. How lucky was I to find the love of my life for the second time? The music starts, a chorus of strings playing "Here, There And Everywhere" which Derick chose. Liz kisses my cheek and pats my shoulder, then leaves to take her place to be escorted to her seat, starting the wedding procession.

Issac carries the rings, matching his uncle in a gray shirt and linen shorts. Everyone awes and giggles at him, as he is the cutest and most charismatic ring bearer ever. Carrie, who's happily showing a baby bump, and Tim follow him down as matron of honor and best man. I've become close to Carrie with all the planning over the last few months. She's the sister I never had, and I can't wait to hold my new niece in a few months.

As it's my turn, I walk to the start of the path and stop, taking in a deep breath. Walking alone, I start making my way towards him. He stands there, watching me intently as everyone else does. I'm wearing a long chiffon dress with one strap over my right shoulder, leaving the other exposed, and with no train. I just love how that same breeze that rustles my hair also causes the thin fabric to flare just a little with my steps.

Derick keeps his eyes on me, and I lock mine with his, knowing that his are the only eyes that really see me. They're the only eyes I want to look into for the rest of my life. I see our whole life together in those eyes.

As I approach the circle, I slow, thinking that the minister will not be asking who is giving me away, but he does. I stop and seconds go by. I'm embarrassed and confused that there's no one to speak for me. I look to Derick, lost, needing him to find me. Then, in a soft whisper, I hear them.

"We do," Alex, Katie, and Toby say together.

I turn to see them and wonder if anyone else can. I look back at Derick, who smiles and holds out his hand for me. I look back at them expecting them to be gone, but they're still there.

"Go, Mommy. Your prince is waiting for you," Katie says, shooing me with her hands.

"You deserve this, Julia. We want to see you happy again. I'll always love you. That's why we brought him to you." Alex smiles.

"He loves you too, Mom. Go." Toby, my boy of few words.

"Okay, I'll go. I love and miss you all so much."

"We know. Now, go." As the words come from Alex's mouth they all fade away.

It appears as if no one else witnessed any of what just happened, as if moments for me were but mere seconds to everyone else. Derick still holds his hand out to me, and I know without any doubt, I'm meant to take it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I'm awoken by Ginger barking and a knocking at the door. Derick wiggles behind me and kisses me on my forehead as he gets up from the couch. He walks to the door like it's not a surprise to have company today when everyone we know is either across the country or at least out of town. I stay in my place on the couch, wrapped in a blanket to stay warm while processing the realism of what obviously was my dream, a very good dream. Derick holds a short conversation with whoever is at the door. He then grabs his wallet off the kitchen counter and hands money to them, wishes them a Merry Christmas, and now with a large box in hand, shuts the door. Finally leaving the winter cold to its place, outside.

I sit up on an elbow, looking at him with narrowed eyes, wondering what he's up to. He hurries to the kitchen, with the box in tow.

"What's in the box, D?"

"Dinner!" Now I'm really curious.

"You ordered takeout for Christmas? You're kidding, right?" He pops his head out of the kitchen doorway.

"I didn't order takeout, but, yes, I had food delivered." Back to the kitchen he goes, and now I hear the faucet running.

I get up from my warm place on the couch, on a mission to crack the secret of the delivered box. As I come through the kitchen doorway, I catch him red handed, lifting a live lobster from the box and into the sink.

"Lobsters!"

"Massachusetts turkey!"

"Whatever!" I say as I smack his arm. "You're going to cook those?" Now he has the surprised look on his face.

"Not to go all caveman on you, but I thought you would cook them. I'll help, but I've never done this before."

"Neither have I!" His look goes from surprise to stunned.

"You're kidding, right? I thought all New Englanders knew how to cook lobster."

"Well, it's not rocket science, but no, I've never done it before, not alone anyway. I'm sure I helped a time or two when I was young, but as an adult, I order it off the menu, let the chef handle it, and pay the bill." Like a boy, ideas of mischief and adventure shine in his eyes.

"Another first for us. This should be fun." He leans over and steals a quick kiss.

"The firsts. They just keep on coming. You better go and get your Google on. We need to figure out what we're doing here before these suckers walk back towards the bay. I'll find a pot."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

I knew I couldn't go wrong with the lobsters. When Laurette mentioned that her nephew made deliveries on Christmas Day for extra money, not only was I sold, but I promised to make it worth his while. Laurette has become a friend of mine over these weeks, and though she tells me I'm hopeless sometimes when I call her for help, she also tells me that if she had a son, she'd want him to be like me.

My plan for this afternoon is to have a nice early dinner of lobsters and wine with my princess, make love to her once, or maybe twice more, then ask her to play for me. She's had to have noticed her cello by now but hasn't mentioned it at all. For now, I take that as a good sign, that she may be willing to share another part of herself with me. I want every part of her, all that she's willing to give me, whenever she's ready to give it.

Yesterday, going to the cemetery showed me that she wants to let me in. Which, in turn, makes me want more, but also heightens my protective instincts when it comes to her. I don't want anything ever to hurt her again, especially not me.

As if my mind was being read, I receive a text from Ann. Attached to it is a picture of Connor. He's sitting on the floor in front of their tree, presents all around him, but playing with an enormous pile of wrapping paper instead. The smile on his face is beyond happy, and you can even see the white speck from where his two front teeth have finally come in.

I rub my thumb over the picture, feeling guilty that I'm missing it but quickly reminding myself that there may very well be no reason for my guilt. She lied, and cheated, and kept him from me from the very moment she knew he wasn't Michael's. I have yet to see proof or to feel it in my heart that what she tells me is the truth, especially since she has a very twisted meaning of the word to begin with. But, I text back anyway.

Me: Tell him I said Merry Christmas

That is all. I won't ignore him and possibly regret it one day, but I won't do what she wants either by giving in. Not until I know for sure. I turn my phone off and set it on my end table, sure that there's no one else I need to talk to today. The rest of this day is just for us, Jules and me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After dinner, which was an adventure in itself, as I never knew there was an art to eating lobster, I'm cursing myself for letting Jules have so much wine. When this woman has too much, which I've seen before, she's funny and charismatic, but I wanted her to play for me. I highly doubt that playing cello is done well while intoxicated, but maybe I'm wrong. Most famous musicians admit that creativity is at its best while the mind is compromised. I guess we will see. There's still time.

She's cleaning off our plates at the sink when I come up behind her. I circle my hands around her waist and kiss her neck, trying to make her easy task more difficult. Her breath hitches but she keeps on, all intentions set on showing her ability to evade my advances, so I become more aggressive in my actions.

I slip my hand into the loose waistband of her pants, stopping only long enough to acknowledge that she has nothing on beneath. She's not let up on her work but is nearly done when I deepen my reach to come into contact with the vicinity of heat that I crave. She throws her head back against me, her sense of touch definitely in a heightened state. I stroke her sensitive flesh and she circles her hips making it so I hit the right spot with every rotation.

My pursuit is relentless, knowing that I have the ability to bring her the body's greatest state of bliss without traditional methods of sex. This is true intimacy, where nothing more than a touch is needed. I kiss her neck as I continue to touch her until finally her body tenses and her breaths become short and uncontrolled. She relaxes against me while she collects herself and reaches a hand up to curl around my neck.

"You are unbelievable. Do you know that? Has anyone ever told you that?" she says to me, and for a second, I think before I answer.

"Not the way you just did."

"I want to show you just how much I mean what I say." Her hand slides between our bodies. Usually, I wouldn't say no to her advances, but I see my opportunity and seize the moment.

"Play for me."

Julia

I HAD A FEELING WHEN I saw my cello there that this request would come, and mixed emotions flooded in my head every time I looked at it today. I never played for someone before, not solo. Alex never even knew I played at all, which makes this a liberating experience but liberation does not dismiss anxiety. Thankfully my anxiousness is numbed slightly by the wine from dinner, but the real compulsion to do this comes from wanting to show Derick just what I'm willing to do for him. After yesterday, all the walls are gone, all but one. With that one exception, I'd do anything for him.

"Okay." I turn to face him, grabbing his face between both hands, and I kiss him. "I'll be right back."

I go up the stairs to the bedroom and into the bathroom. When I emerge again, I've conveniently left my pants behind. I want this to be the most intimate and erotic experience ever. When I come back down the stairs, I see that he's sitting on the couch, two freshly poured glasses of wine on the side table, and the only light comes from a couple of candles, the tree lights, and the fireplace. He's placed one of the dining room chairs in the center of the living room space so that he's the center audience, and on the chair, sits my bow.

I stop and pick up a glass of wine, taking one final drink of liquid courage before I begin. Then I retrieve my cello from where it sits by the tree. I go to the chair, pick up my bow and take my seat. I know as I open my legs to nestle the instrument between them that he now has noticed that I'm wearing nothing but his shirt. And although this plan is orchestrated to bring him pleasure, I'm finding my own as the indirect pursuer.

"Any special requests?" Not that I know a broad range of songs, or that he would name a piece I do know, but my asking feels seductive in its own way.

"Musician's choice." His voice is low and tempting, the kind that sends heat straight to your core. He's on the field, and his game plan is identical to mine.

I lift the bow and place my left hand on the neck of the instrument, positioning my fingers over the strings. Having no real clue as to what I'm about to play, I set my bow and draw it back. I close my eyes and allow my instinct and relationship with this instrument to take over. Suddenly, I'm lost in the notes, knowing each one, but their combination is new. I'm not only playing for him, I'm also composing for him. This is a new song, his song.

I want to see him. I want to see if he can feel this like I do. I open my eyes, and I see how intently he watches me. I know he sees me as no one else can, but I've never seen him look at me like this. He's not just seeing me, not just watching me with his eyes. He feels what's in my soul. This is literally the highest level of intimacy I've ever reached and it feels incredible to be so bare.

After minutes of playing, repeating the notes in a way that doesn't sound monotonous so that I can remember his song, he stands from the couch. I continue, without falter, as he comes to stand behind me. He leans down and brushes his lips over the right side of my neck, leaving that familiar tingle behind. Still, my notes continue, as if I'm somehow charming him with my music, willing him to seduce me.

I can feel his breath on my skin, and I want nothing more than to turn and surrender myself to him, but I feel like this, continuing to play while he entices me, is my surrender. His mouth comes to my ear.

"I want to play it with you." Only a whisper, but also a powerful request. One that is not expected to be disregarded.

My bow stops, and I tilt my head back to see him. "Okay."

There's not enough room on the chair for him to slide behind me, so I stand and motion for him to sit. He does, and I hand him the bow so I can adjust the tail gut on the cello for the extra height. I take my place on his lap, draping each of my legs over his, then pulling the cello between them.

"Put your right hand over mine. Hold it gently and move with me."

"What about this hand?" He says, holding his left hand in the air. I let the cello rest between us and take his hand in mine.

"Right here." I rest it on my left thigh, completely aware of it being a dangerous move.

I place my hand on the fingerboard and start to move the bow, drawing it slow enough for him to keep up with my movements. We play his song but in a slower tempo. The feel of his breath on my neck, his hand on my bare thigh, and his hand over mine as we glide over the strings is like nothing I've known. We're completely aligned in a way that isn't sexual, but still completely arousing. I've never before felt so exposed, but the freedom to be this way with him is exhilarating.

I'm lost in the notes, never having had them affect me this way. Since high school, my music was private, my therapy, my way to self-heal. But this, this is me at my rawest possible state, and Derick is the only one ever to see me this way.

The heat between us is growing, both of our bodies reacting to the closeness and the music we're creating together. His hand is flowing with mine as if we are one. I can feel his heartbeat against my back, his hardness growing beneath me, and his mouth closing in on my exposed neck. When his lips finally touch me, it's like the strike of a match, the fire is lit. It's all I can do to focus on our hands, but even in the seconds when I find that impossible, I realize that this isn't just his song, it's _our_ song, and it's playing itself.

His free hand moves from my thigh, making its way under my shirt, and cupping my breast. I can't help the soft moan that I make when his bare skin touches mine. I throw my head back further, urging him to take more of me, but the music doesn't stop. There's a throbbing between my legs, and I silently beg for him to touch me there, to subdue the need before it becomes unbearable.

"Touch me. Please." I'm begging because I need this more than I've ever needed physical contact with another human being.

He moves his hand from where he held my breast, allowing his fingers to glide down my ribs and waist until he connects with the place between my legs that aches for his touch. An irrepressible sigh escapes, and finally, I miss a note.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

I've never found a woman so sexy and so utterly irresistible but I also want to take my time, pushing both our limits until the need is beyond control. She maintains control, the music flowing consistently and without flaw until I do as she asks. As soon as I touch her, feeling the warmth of her arousal, my fingers barely testing her entrance, the music stops. She leans into me further, tilting herself to meet my hand. Hungry for what I can give her, but I'm even more so for her.

I take the bow from her hand and gently toss it to land on the coffee table. Then I take the cello and lay it on the ground. Placing my hands on either side of her waist, I lift her to her feet, and I turn her to face me. She does as she's led, without question or resistance. I stand too, and as I do, I grab the bottom of her shirt, lifting it over her head. She's so fucking beautiful.

I just want to touch her for a moment, to look at her as she stands here before me. I start by caressing her cheek with the back of my hand, then brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. Softly down her neck, continuing down the valley between her breasts. She focuses on me, completely trusting me with every move I make.

I circle each breast then move on in my pursuit. When I reach her waist, I sit back in the chair and pull her closer to straddle my legs. I kiss her stomach and hold her to me, allowing my hands to cup her ass and squeeze it gently. Slowly, I guide her to sit on my lap, trailing the kisses that I started lower, up to her chest. Supporting her in my arms I lean her back so that I can take her nipple into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue. Her breaths are deep but even, and small needy, wanting sounds emerge from her mouth as she grinds gently against me.

Gradually her movements become stronger, and she anchors herself by grabbing the back of the chair. I keep to my task, using my mouth to assault her breasts, her nipples maintaining rigid, firm peaks. She's going to cum any second now, and then I'll seek my own release. But she's first, her needs are my priority.

I reach between us, sliding my hand along her opening, then sinking my finger inside her. She nearly screams, conveying the obvious pleasure it brings her. A few more skillful strokes and her hands go from the chair to my hair, lifting my head from her breast so that I'm looking straight into her eyes. She says nothing and I don't need her to. She presses her mouth to mine aggressively and without apprehension. When her orgasm hits, she whimpers into my mouth but never breaks the kiss. Her body's gone tight while she rides it through.

Breathless, she tilts her head so that our foreheads are pressing together, but there's very little space between our mouths.

"You didn't think you'd get all that, did you?" She says still slightly winded.

"That I didn't. You were amazing, that song. That song, what was it?"

"I've never played it before. I made it up as I went along. For you."

No words have ever turned me on more. I'm going to have her again, and there won't be any element of romance. Pure and animalistic passion is what I want. I stand, sweeping her up with me. Her legs wrap around me, and she initiates another deep, hungry kiss. Not being able to see where I'm going, we end up against a wall. This will do. She's holding on so tight that I'm able to reach down to lower my pants, I'm so ready for this. I need this.

With no patience, I push inside her. Holy. Shit. There's no way I'm going to last long, but I'll be damned if I'll waste one second. I bury myself in her, and she gasps into my mouth. I draw back and repeat my movement until her body starts to squeeze around me, like a heartbeat, pulsing with power. Two more thrusts and I can't hold it anymore. I let my orgasm go with hers and our mouths together swallow each other's moans, transferring the orgasmic energy of each to the other.

I stumble to the couch, my legs spent, and I sit down with her legs still wrapped around me. She relaxes into me, and we both take the time to catch our breath. I don't care what I have to do, but that cello, it's staying right here.

Julia

THREE WEEKS HAVE PASSED SINCE Christmas, which was a significant turning point in our relationship. I still can't believe I was so scared to tell him the truth. I now know it was all about me and my fears. Hindsight being what it always is, I think I was just scared of him leaving. Scared that I would lose him and I couldn't stand to lose the first person I loved after all this time.

But now I think that if I had ended up losing him over the truth, it would have meant he wasn't the one and the sacrifice would've been unavoidable. But the truth brought us closer and made us stronger. Together _we_ are indestructible.

I will never forget the days we spent together over that long weekend and leading up to the New Year. Our cruise to Martha's Vineyard, movie marathons on the couch, and walks with Ginger in the park. The first two days back at work were slow and uneventful, which was good because we were running on a skeleton crew.

Derick and I spent New Year's at home, just the two of us with Ginger. I'd always believed in this silly superstition that, whoever you were with at midnight on New Year's Eve would be in your life the whole year through. For the last almost seven years now, I spent it alone. I wasn't willing to believe in something that may not happen. Then again, I hadn't met anyone that I wanted to stick around that long.

A fire lit, two bottles of champagne, and hours of making love was how we rang in the New Year. While lying in bed, we talked about the wedding. I asked him what he wanted, but of course, he generically answered with, "Whatever you want, is what I want." At that point, I became very grateful to have the two women that know him better than anyone helping to plan this event. But talking about it with him made me more excited about it. That and the dream I had on Christmas Day. Any question I had about this being right is gone, not answered, just vanished.

New Year's Day was spent moving. Derick suggested that I officially move into the loft with him. I haven't spent a night at my place since before Thanksgiving anyway, so his idea made perfect sense. Aside from the fact that the conventional _waiting for marriage_ to have sex is an idea long lost. We practically live together anyway, almost literally spending every moment of our lives side by side.

I'll keep my place, maybe sublet it out for a while. I'll figure it out later, I'm in no hurry. I would've suggested we move in there, but Ginger needs more. My place is bigger, but his place is home. Maybe one day we'll get rid of both and buy something together, maybe. For now, I'm fine with what we have.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunday comes along and with it, a date I'll never get out of my mind, January nineteenth. Finally, a year when I don't have to take this day off or spend it alone. Today, it's been seven years. Derick knows what today is, I know he does, because in the early morning hours while my subconscious acknowledges the date and I cry softly as history replays in my mind, he holds me. He doesn't say a word, he just holds me in his arms and lets me cry. I've never had anyone to do that. I've always isolated myself on this day, wanting to be alone, but this year I feel fortunate to have him here.

He leaves to go downstairs to fix coffee, but before he leaves, he kisses me on my forehead and says, "I love you." I'm taken back to the last time I spoke those words to Alex, the last time he said them to me. These three little words were all I needed then, and they're all I need now.

I get myself up and into the shower, allowing the hot water to clear my head and hoping it can cleanse me of my melancholy. I know I'm allowed to be sad, to cry, to feel whatever I need to today. There are no rules or limits for grief, but for a change, that's not how I want to spend this day entirely. Instead of keeping all my feelings in, I want to share them. I want Derick to know my family, especially the kids. I know that even though Alex is gone, there may be limits to what he'll want to know about us, but the kids are different. I've kept them all a secret for so long that being able to talk about them is a newfound freedom that I want to enjoy and explore.

After my shower, I dress and go to my vanity to get my necklace that Derick gave me for Christmas. I don't go a day without wearing it, as it's become a security blanket I keep snuggly around my neck. Before I revealed my secrets, he intended to give it to me, and after my secrets were no longer, he still gave me the key to his heart. The necklace, of course, is purely metaphorical, but I love being able to touch it. It reminds me how deep and real this is.

I can't help but smile as I see he's placed a single rose on top of my glass jewelry box. I lift the rose to my nose and try to remember what he told me a single rose means. _Love at first sight_ or _my one and only_. I figure at this stage, it's the latter. I must say, I'll never tire of the messages he gives me with the roses. They make me feel as if the meaning is sometimes so powerful that words aren't enough. The roses, with a secret language of their own, are able to show it as well as say it. They were essential in our beginning, and I hope they remain so until the end.

I lift my necklace out and place the rose inside before closing the box. Now with my key in place and Derick downstairs, I feel like I actually have the desire to get through this day. In fact, I have a plan in mind, and I need to move before I lose my nerve. It's time I pay a visit to a place I used to hold so dear and with Derick by my side, I feel that I finally have the strength to go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

She's not herself, which is to be expected, but she's better than I thought she'd be. When she comes downstairs, she is quiet at first while drinking her coffee but she surprises me halfway through.

"I have somewhere I want to go today." She says out of nowhere. Given the date, I'm not sure where _somewhere_ is, or if she has plans to go alone.

"Where's that?"

"I'll tell you when we get there." We. She wants me to go with her. Any other day this wouldn't be a surprise, but today, it means so much more. True, she's told me about her past, but she hasn't told me every detail. Maybe this means she's ready to share more.

"Do I have time for a shower?"

"We have all day."

I kiss her on the top of her head as I walk by. In her emotional state, I'm afraid to overwhelm her today. I've decided to just be here for her and let her make the big moves. Kisses on the head, hugs, and holding her are safe moves, anything more will be her call.

While in the shower, I think of how I've never dealt with this situation, someone who's suffered so much loss. Not on any level. Any other day, I have no reserves on how I behave with her physically, but today, I'm just not sure. So, my plan is to go anywhere, do anything, and be anything she needs.

I come down the stairs, ready to go. She's still sitting at the table with her coffee but looks up as I enter.

"Did you eat?" I ask. I understand that food is probably the farthest thing from her mind right now. She shakes her head. "That's okay. We'll have a good lunch. Whatever you want." With that, I get an affirmative nod. "Are you ready?" She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Yes." She grabs her coat and keys. I get my coat and follow.

For the first few minutes in the car, she says nothing, the look on her face conveying that she has reservations and is still convincing herself that her plan is a go. I reach over to take her hand that lies loose in her lap. She squeezes her fingers around mine, holding them tight, and I see the concentration that held her just a moment ago shift to a calmness.

I see that we're heading the same way we did when we went to the cemetery. It makes sense that she'd want to go there, but then she pulls down a residential street and in front of a house, where she parks, and turns off the engine. She stares at the house across the street, and we sit in silence for a few minutes before she starts to speak.

"I haven't been here since I sold it. Not even a drive by. I had everything I ever wanted in that house. A husband, kids, a dog. Ironically, I lost everything I ever wanted while in that house." She takes a deep breath, then continues. "I can still see them in the yard, when the kids were little and Sam was a puppy, playing in the piles of leaves as Alex and I raked them. I wanted to be so mad at the three of them for destroying all the work we'd done, but seeing how happy it made them, it soon became nothing more than a task of keeping the pile high enough for them to play in."

She's lost in a moment, narrating it as she sees it. I squeeze her hand a little more to encourage her, to feed her strength.

"It was the last place I saw them too. The last time I kissed them, told them I loved them, and said goodbye, though I didn't expect it to be. Sometimes, I still ask, why? Why was I chosen to endure this pain? But there's no answer, is there?" This time, she squeezes my hand, then turns to look at me. "I guess I'm just lucky to know that I don't have to go through it alone anymore."

"No, you don't." I lift her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles, holding them there at my lips. She's not alone anymore and never will be again, she has me. She turns back and looks silently at the house. I know I'll never know every detail of her life, and some things are probably better left unknown. Anything I need to know, she'll tell me in time. I have trust in that.

Before we leave her old house, I encourage her to switch seats with me so I can take over the driving. Not far down the road, my phone rings, but because I'm driving, I don't answer it.

"Do you want me to get that for you?"

"No. It can't be too important. The only person I need to talk to is you, and you're here with me. If they leave a message, I'll call back later." She smiles, and I squeeze her hand that has been in mine this whole time. She needs to go to one more place before lunch. She hasn't asked, but I know she needs it as much as she needed to go to the house.

I stop at a convenience store to run in and grab something for Jules and ask for directions to the cemetery. She didn't ask me to do this, and I hope I'm not crossing a hard line. When I return, I have with me three roses. She looks at me questioningly, but I don't offer an explanation. As I steer us towards the cemetery, she puts it together. When we get there, I follow the roads through to get as close as I can for her. I encourage her to go while I stay in the car, allowing her to talk to them in private. She may have things to say that are easier without me there.

While I'm in the car, my phone rings again. Given that I have a few moments, I answer it not looking at the screen first, instantly wishing I had.

"Derick, it's Ann."

"Hello, what's going on? Is Connor all right?"

"Yes, he's fine. I waited for you to call, and when you didn't, well I got impatient."

"About what, exactly. I didn't know you were expecting me to call."

"I got my results. I just figured you'd gotten yours too."

"No. I haven't, but since you have yours, you might as well share."

"It's positive, Derick. You're his father."

I can feel the blood drain from my face, and when I first open my mouth to speak, nothing comes out. I look over at Jules, as she sits on the grass in front of their headstones.

"Derick. Are you still there? Derick, say something."

"I have to go. I'll call you later. Give Connor a kiss for me." I hang up. I don't want to hear any more of her words. She's just given me what should be the best news ever, but I feel like a bomb has been dropped and my world is about to implode. I have to tell Jules, but I can't today. Today is about her, and this will have to wait.

Jules stands and after placing a kiss with her hand on each stone, she turns and walks towards the car. I get myself together because I can't let her see that anything's amiss. She climbs into the passenger seat, her cheeks damp with tears that she obviously tried to wipe away, but the evidence remains.

"Thank you."

"For what? I haven't done anything."

"You have. You've done more than you'll ever know. Not just one thing either, it's everything."

"Well, if I did miss anything, be sure to let me know."

"I will." She turns her head to look out the window as we pull out of the cemetery grounds, and our conversation falls silent. I honestly think she's doing well today, but that's what she's letting me see. I can't imagine the pain I'd feel every day if something happened to her, let alone every year having the reminder of how much time had passed.

We drive for a while in silence, looking for a place to have lunch. All I need is a place that serves chicken and mashed potatoes, her self-proclaimed favorite comfort food. She won't be able to pass it up. I'll get some food in her one way or another, and I'm willing to play dirty.

We end up at a little café and, as I knew she would, she orders the chicken dinner. I decide to get the same, wanting to see if the _feel good_ food works for me too. I'm not sad the way she is, but what breaks my heart is knowing that I can't fix any of the things that are hurting her right now. I can't fix her pain and her loss, and I can't fix the fact that telling her about Connor may cause her more.

Julia

IT'S COMING UP ON VALENTINE'S Day, tomorrow actually. A day that's been insignificant to me for seven of them now. The day itself baffles me. Hearts filled with chocolate, cards, overpriced flowers, and stuffed animals. Going overboard one day a year to proclaim or prove your love. What Derick and I have is so much better than Valentine's Day—it's every day.

We've become so much stronger together than we ever were apart. Well, I suppose I can only speak for myself, I feel stronger with him in my life. I've always seen his strength, fed on it, depended on it when mine was lost. Every time I think of how lucky I am that he found me, I remember my dream from Christmas. He didn't find me, and I didn't find him. We were brought together by angels.

Liz and I have continued to work together on the wedding, and I'm finding we have so much in common. I told her what we wanted for the wedding, and she's taking care of everything out there. I told her the only thing I wanted to take care of myself, was my dress. Though her heart is in the right place, I can't see it being something we'd agree on. I don't want big, fluffy, and intense. I want it to resemble our relationship and how I feel when I'm with him. Relaxed, comfortable, and free flowing.

We've been very clear that we want the ceremony to be small and intimate, only close friends and family. We've never boasted of our relationship, and we don't plan to start, especially not on the day we allow others to witness us making the promise we feel has already been made between us. I thought I would be okay without all the formalities, but I think that my dream made me want more than a courthouse quickie. I want everything with Derick to be as special and memorable as it can be. I finally understand that we're not replacing old memories, we're making new ones, ours. Never discounting the memories we've been making along the way, but the ones we'll make, as husband and wife will commence on June twenty-first, two thousand fourteen.

Save the date cards are set to go out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted to make it a little more personal for one person, Frank. He's the only person on my list, well actually, one of the two. Though I know he won't make it, I plan to invite Henry as well. I asked Frank's secretary, Ashley, to pencil me in for a meeting with him this morning. He knows about our engagement but not that we've set a date and location. The wedding being in California is going to cause him to blow a gasket, but I have a plan. I know having all three of us gone at once will be rough, but we have time to cross-train a couple of our top editors to carry the office for a few days. Everything will be okay.

I knock on the door and wait for him to grant me entry. As soon as he sees me, he looks at me as though to say "what was that about?" I never knock, and he knows that.

"What's up, Julia? I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, so I hate to say it but make it quick."

I saunter over to the chair in front of his desk, sit down, and rest my arms on the chair's armrests. He's confused by my behavior, I can tell as much and naughty of me or not, after all these years, I find it entertaining.

"I am your appointment, Frank."

"What's going on?"

"I wanted to be the first to tell you that Derick and I have set a date for the wedding. I wanted to extend to you a personal invitation."

"Really? That's great news. When is the big day?"

"June twenty-first. In Santa Barbara." This is the moment when I'm expecting him to freak out.

"Wow! Not to mask my happiness for you Julia, but I assume this meeting was not only to drop the good news. I know you must have a plan for how the three of us are all going to be in California for the wedding."

"You're brilliant. Have I ever told you that? But, so am I. Of course, I do." I reach over and place a paper on his desk. "Here's my list of people that I think can handle the cross-training and take over the office for at least a week. I don't know how long you'll take off, but Derick and I were looking at two weeks for both the wedding and the honeymoon."

He looks over the paper, nodding his head in approval. "Well, I second your thoughts on Sean and Joanne. If there were to be an open spot in management positions, those two are the ones I'd pine for. We'll talk to them this week and ask if they'd like the opportunity."

I knew my plan would work. I followed what Frank had taught me early on. Always present a problem with the means for a solution.

"So this means you'll be there?" I ask hopefully.

"I've seen you come a long way. I wouldn't miss this for the world, Julia."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, you're the only person on my list that'll make it. You're my only real family, Frank."

"Maybe today, but you're about to have a real family again, and no one deserves it more than you."

Frank doesn't say things he doesn't mean, and I've come to trust what he says. My life has definitely taken a turn over the last few months, and I'm more than ready for the next step.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

We've set a date for the wedding and given all the specifics to my mother. The only thing she likes more than traveling is planning big occasions. It's in her nature, and she's good at it. It's a relief for both Jules and me to have nothing more to worry about than getting there and Jules picking out her dress, which actually isn't my worry at all. She wants to do that one thing herself, which I think is a good idea. She is the only one who knows her style, which is nothing short of simple and classic.

In fact, that's where she is today. She left work early because she wanted to do some dress browsing and has my sister readily available via FaceTime to consult with. It's Valentine's Day and how cliché, that she's out shopping for her dress. When you think about it really, wedding dresses and Valentine's Day, the motif of each flows in the same direction. Love.

But as I continue to learn so much more about her, she informs me that she doesn't like Valentine's Day. She says that there's no point if you really love someone, that proving it three hundred and sixty-five days a year is better than one. I couldn't argue with that logic, so I'll continue showing her how much I love her the same this day as any other. It's a win-win.

When she returns from her shopping trip, I greet her with roses, which have been a signature for us all along, and champagne. Nothing different from what could occur any other day, and nothing extravagant. Just another day of me loving her. Loving her on the couch, on the bed, and in the shower. Twice. Then we spend the whole next day doing the same.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ann has continued to send me messages, and I continue to tell her I'll be in touch. Something is still amiss with her getting her results when I never did. Of course, I've thought about calling the lab myself, but procrastinate for selfish reasons. Reasons that make me feel like I'm back in _dick_ territory because I'm ignoring her and the truth. I just haven't found the right time to tell Jules. I'm a coward, I'll admit it. But I'm scared, genuinely scared, that this will cost me the love of my life. The choice should be easy, but it's not.

Come Monday morning, nothing could prepare me for what is about to happen. As we walk up to the office, I see her standing there, not too far from the front door, and she's holding Connor. What the fuck is she doing here? I know I haven't been as compliant as she would prefer since she told me about the results, it's been a month, but I just can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. Why didn't I ever receive my results? I was content to believe her when she told me she'd be calling to check on it, but that was a couple of weeks ago, and I never heard anything more about it.

I try to steer Jules into the building before Ann spots us. I'll come back down and deal with her alone. But as luck would have it, she sees me and calls out my name.

"Derick! Derick!" Ann calls loudly from across the distance.

I continue to walk, lightly pulling Jules with me, but she stops. Jules is the first to turn around at hearing my name being called. I, of course, am trying to ignore it.

"Derick, did you hear that? It sounded like someone was calling your name."

Dreadfully, I turn to look in the direction Jules is looking and make eye contact with Ann. I urge her with my eyes to stay back, but it's obvious she didn't come here to lay low. She rushes towards us, Connor being jostled in her hurry.

"Derick, who is that?" Jules asks. I clench my teeth because it's one question I never wanted to have to answer, but now it's unavoidable.

"That's Ann."

"Oh, my." She reaches for my hand and squeezes it gently. She's here for me, and she wants me to know.

Ann approaches us, winded and wearing what I can positively identify as a fake smile. I, on the other hand, don't offer a smile at all. She apparently never knew me well, but she should recognize the seriousness of my demeanor, and I'm hoping to convey that now is not the time.

"You said you'd call." I say sternly.

"Well, I thought this would work out better." She turns to Jules and smiles. "You must be Julia, so nice to meet you. Derick has said beautiful things about you."

Jules looks from Ann to Connor and back. "Thank you." Jules' words are as friendly as she can make them, but I can sense the tension. She only knows what I've told her, how this woman nearly broke me with betrayal. Jules would stay if I wanted her to, but I think she knows that this conversation won't go any better with her here. She turns to me and says, "I'm going to head up, okay? I'll see you in a while. Don't forget we have a meeting at eight-fifteen." She's providing an out for me, setting the stage for when I've had enough.

She comes in closer, delivering a soft kiss to my lips, transferring her energy to me while staking her claim and delivering a message to Ann. As much as I hate her feeling the need to do this, it makes my heart swell, knowing she wants to do it. I fucking love this woman.

I watch her until she passes through the doors, a smile still playing on my face from her little show, and then I turn to Ann, who looks all but amused. Good. Karma's a real bitch, isn't it?

"You haven't told her? Derick, what are you doing? This isn't going away."

"I don't need you to tell me how to handle this. My life here is none of your business."

"Maybe not, but he is," she says motioning to Connor. "He's your business too."

"You don't know anything. Not that I owe you any explanation, but it's a delicate situation."

"You're right, you don't owe me an explanation, but I need to know I can count on you to help raise your son."

"Speaking of, did you ever find out where my results went?"

"Here." She hands me an envelope from the lab with my name on it, but her address. "I guess they screwed up. They sent your results to me."

I open the envelope and take out the single piece of tri-folded paper. My eyes float over all the words and numbers until I see what I'm looking for. "Probability of Paternity 99.86."

"Do you believe me now?"

"I guess the numbers don't lie." I replace the paper in the envelope, fold it in half, and shove it in my jacket pocket. I look at Connor, my son. I have the proof I need now. That means I have to tell Jules, and it can't wait any longer.

"Are you in this now, Derick? Can I count on you to be there for him?"

"Of course you can. If you remember right, I always wanted kids, just not like this. This poor kid will never know what it would've been like to have us together as a family. But I promise you, I'll be there for him."

"From across the country?"

Of course, she'd bring that up. That thought has crossed my mind a million times. It's one of those choices you know you have to make, where an option doesn't really exist at all. It's not ideal to live all the way across the country from him, and I know the chances of Ann moving here are zero. But, I'm not getting into this here, not right now.

"How long are you here?"

"Only three days. My father needs me back for meetings on Friday. I'm staying at the Marriott on State Street. I'd hoped to come here and be able to make an agreement with you. I don't want to have to get lawyers involved. I'd like to think we are capable of avoiding that, Derick." How nice of her. She has all Daddy's money and lawyers behind her. Why not just go in for the kill?

"I have to go now. I will call you tonight. I promise." I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet to give her some money. "Here. Take Connor to the aquarium, I think he'd like that." She nods and takes it. I lean in and give Connor a kiss on the head. "I'll see you later, little guy. Mommy's going to take you to see the pretty fish."

For the first time since I met him, I feel something. Now that I've seen the test results, there's no denying I'm his father, and the need to take care of him is suddenly overwhelming. I was such a dick to think, to hope, that he wasn't mine. Now it's time, time to step up and accept that I may not have gotten my dream of having children the way I'd hoped, but nonetheless, I got it. That's my son, and he needs me.

I watch them walk away and know that I have decisions to make, maybe some of the hardest I'll ever have to make. All the elements won't agree and in the end I know there's a chance I'll have to give something, or rather someone, up.

Julia

WALKING INTO MY OFFICE, I'M overwhelmed with emotions from the encounter outside, and I have so many questions about it. How could she come here, to his work? Why does she need to be here again? Derick never mentioned that their legal situation was still ongoing, but he never mentioned that it was finished either. And it's obvious she's overcome her disdain for having children. How could she rub that in his face like that? I already disliked her for what she did to Derick before, and she just threw a lot more wood on that fire. She needs to back off and realize he's not hers anymore. She can't just waltz in and reclaim him. Or can she? No. It's too late.

I busy myself with going through the files on my desk. I don't want to look out the window to see them. Jealousy is evil, and it makes you see things that don't really exist. I can't allow myself to fall into that trap. I need to stay strong and confident of what Derick and I have, that which I know is real, true, and pure love.

I left my door open, so that when Derick comes in, I'll be able to see him. I don't expect him to run to me and tell me everything. I'm sure he has to digest this surprise visit first, whatever it is that she came here for. About ten minutes have gone by when I see him. He has a perplexed look on his face, and as I suspected he would, he goes straight to his office. I would be lying if I said that it doesn't hurt a little that he didn't come straight to me, but I do understand. There were so many times, before he learned the truth about my past, that I wanted to go to him and take in his strength and comfort, but I couldn't because that meant I'd have to explain. I'll give him the time he gave me, knowing that he will eventually come to me.

Nearly half the day has gone by, and we still haven't spoken, not counting the morning meeting. I got one look, one moment when our eyes connected. He's not all right, something happened this morning after I left. His beautiful blue eyes plead with me, almost begging me to be patient. I can do that, but my heart is breaking for him. What could she have done or said that would affect him this way? Was it the child? I replay the story of their divorce in my head. He caught her with his best friend. Oh my, she ended up pregnant with his best friend's child.

I can almost feel the pain he must have felt when she told him. This, on top of the fact that he knows or believes that I can't have children. He's been betrayed by her and denied by me. It's almost enough to make me confess and give him everything he's ever wanted on a silver platter. Almost, but not quite. We will get through this, and we'll do it together.

It's coming up on lunchtime when I receive a text from him.

Derick: Let's go out for lunch

Me: Your choice, my treat

Derick: I love you

Me: I love you more

Derick: Not ever possible

Finally, the ice is broken. A relief settles over me and for the first time since meeting Ann, I can breathe easily. I've never seen him shut down like this, and it just breaks my heart. He's always been my rock, but now, it's time for me to be his.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

I'm backed into a corner, and every instinct I have is telling me if I don't come clean soon, my entire world will be destroyed. Ann is like a lit fuse and I, of all people, know what she's capable of. I need to get my shit together, and fast.

I've been avoiding telling my mother just as much as I've avoided telling Jules, but it's come to a point where I need to tell someone. I need advice, and my mom may be able to help me figure this out. No doubt she'll be pissed, but she won't abandon me, that much I know for sure. She may even be able to help me figure out how to tell Jules. I turn my chair to look out the window and tap the phone to dial her.

"Good morning! This is a surprise." She sounds so happy, I love that sound.

"Good morning, Mom." I, on the contrary, do not sound happy at all.

"What's wrong? And don't you even think of telling me, nothing. I can hear it in your voice."

"Are you sitting down?"

"Yes. Talk."

"Ann is here in Boston. She was here a couple of months ago too, and not alone. She has a baby with her, Mom. My baby." I hear her gasp on the other end.

"Are you sure, Derick? I wouldn't put it past her to lie to you, especially after all she's already done."

"We had a paternity test, Mom. He's mine."

"Derick, you're a father." I can hear surprise and trepidation in her words. "You always wanted that, I just never thought it would be with her. How is Julia taking this?"

My mother doesn't know about Jules' past, but I guess it's time to tell her. I explain in short that Jules had a family and that she lost them suddenly, how I was her first relationship since, and I end with the news that she can't have more children. Something I was okay with, and still am, because I have her.

"Poor thing. This must be so hard for her."

"She doesn't know yet."

"Derick. Why? Why haven't you told her?"

"It started out that I just didn't believe Ann, and I wanted to wait for the results. I was sure they would be negative. The time frame coincides with her story, but I just felt something was off. Then the results came in, and I found out for sure on the anniversary of the day Jules lost her family. It just never seemed to be the right time to tell her. I just don't know what to do, Mom. I'm so afraid I'm going to lose her. She's the best thing I've ever had."

"Be honest with her. It's all you can do. You'll get through this together. She loves you as much as you love her."

"God, I hope you're right, Mom."

Julia

IT'S WEDNESDAY, AND DERICK AND Frank are in a meeting with another potential client. I stayed behind with work to catch up on and a feeling that I'm just not on top of my game today. Last night I slept restlessly and was plagued with dreams I can't remember, but I know they were not good. When I woke this morning, I was clinging to Derick so tight that I'm surprised he could even breathe. I just had this overwhelming need to hold onto him, not wanting to let him go.

The two of them have been gone for a while, and I'm expecting them back any moment. In the meantime I try to keep busy, but can't shake the feeling of being unfocused. It's almost as if I'm coming down with something. The change in seasons always does this to me. I think it's time for some extra vitamin C in my diet.

I'm sitting in my office when I hear it coming from the reception area. A woman's voice that, for reasons I can't place, sounds familiar and is quite loud. I stand from behind my desk and walk to the door to investigate. With Derick and Frank in a meeting downstairs, I'm in charge. This is extremely odd behavior for this department, as we are usually very quiet and low profile. A person yelling is not a normality.

I pull the door open and start down the rows of cubicles that take me to where the voice is coming from. As soon as I approach, I see why the voice struck a chord with me, it's Ann. Why is she here and what on earth is causing her to behave this way? She has the child with her too, the poor boy. As I get closer, I take a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Besides saving the front receptionist from further abuse, I need to find out just exactly what's going on. I walk up and confidently address this situation.

"Good afternoon. I'm Julia Morreau, Managing Editor. Is there something I can help you with?" I probably should have extended my hand in a friendly gesture, but there's nothing pleasant about her. Nearly psychotic would better describe the look on her face as she glares back at me. She thinks I'm playing dumb, acting as though I don't recognize her. For a woman who I know has a black belt in deceit, she should see this as a fair move on my part.

"I'm here to see Derick."

"I figured as much. He's in a meeting right now. You can call him to schedule time to see him, or wait until he's back. If you do choose to wait, it's preferred that you do so quietly so that you do not further disrupt my office."

"Don't act like you don't know who I am. You know exactly who I am. You're the reason he's doing this!" She's a bomb ready to explode and for reasons unbeknownst to me, I'm a fair target.

"I've no idea what you're referring to." It's an honest statement.

She gets closer and drops the volume of her voice, eerily making it feel like the calm before the storm. "He hasn't told you." It's not a question, and I want to ask what she's referring to, but feel that doing so will somehow lure me into her trap. She may be a horrible woman, but she's nonetheless a woman. She must see the confusion, question, and resistance in my eyes. I give in and do something I rarely do, I crack.

"Told me what, exactly?"

"That this is his son." She shifts the baby on her hip, to ensure I make the connection.

I lose my sense of reality, suddenly feeling like I'm in a cloud. Things are going on around me, but I couldn't tell you what. My heart is beating in my ears, and my lungs seem to be caving in. What pulls me back to the here and now is the ding of the elevator as it opens. I look up to see Derick step out and into the reception area. As soon as he sees Ann and me together, his demeanor changes from relaxed to rigid in an instant.

He walks up and addresses her first. "What are you doing here?"

"I leave tonight, and I was tired of waiting for you. You've left me no choice but to come here to find you."

"You should've called first." He says flatly.

"Because you're so good at answering my calls? Are you serious?"

Ignoring her last statement, he looks at me, and I think he knows that he's missed a major part of this conversation.

"Julia." He says pleadingly. I turn and walk away. I know by the look on his face that he's finally made the connection. "What did you say to her?" I hear him ask her in a tone that's quickly turned angry, but I continue to walk, not looking back.

The farther away I get, the lower their voices, until they're gone completely because I shut my door behind me. I can't believe what I just heard, I don't want to believe it. When I saw her the other day, I was disgusted by her flaunting this child before him, thinking she was cruel and heartless. Now it makes sense. And looking back to his reaction that day, I know that he knew then.

I'm going to be sick. I rush around my desk and kneeling down on the floor, I empty the contents of my stomach into my trashcan. I never once thought that he would be capable of hurting me this way, keeping a secret like this from me. But then again, from the very beginning, our relationship has been plagued by secrets. First mine, and now his.

I have to get out of here. I feel the need to run. I need to think. I need to figure out what this means and what I need to do. I grab my coat and purse, I'll call Frank in a while, but right now I need air, space, and time. I open my door and find that I have a clear shot for the elevator. Not even stopping at Nora's desk to let her know I'm leaving, I head straight for it, pushing the button and hoping I can get out unnoticed. Relief rushes through me as the door opens and I step inside. Then as the door closes, I release the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

It's not 'til I reach the ground floor that I remember Derick drove us in today, meaning I have no car. I don't care. I don't want to go home anyway, so I set out on foot towards the train station. I don't care where it takes me. I just can't be here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

I want to chase after Jules, but I'm so angry that I grab Ann by the arm and lead her to my office. I know how this must look, and I know that if I let myself blow up here, the consequences would be extreme. When we get to my office, I push her inside and shut the door, turning my back to her so that I can collect myself before I speak.

The hate and anger I have for her at this moment scares me. Even when I walked in on her and Michael, I wasn't this enraged. But as I take this moment to gather my bearings, I realize, this anger towards her now is not because she exposed the truth. It's because I saw the look on Jules' face as she turned and walked away. The lie itself hurt her, my lie. So my anger can't be solely aimed at Ann for coming here today, it's at myself for letting my lie get this far.

I turn around, a little more calm, and just stare at Connor. He has no clue what's going on and that it has everything to do with him, though none of it is his fault. Ann has remained silent, knowing that even though what she did may have been what needed to be done, it needed to be done by me. It was cruel, and Jules didn't deserve that.

"I'm sorry, Derick, but not for the reasons you think. You aren't acting like the man I knew. You've ignored me, and enough is enough."

"It was not your place to come here and do that to her!" I clench my teeth to maintain a volume of my voice that won't be heard outside this room. "I've been a dick, yes. But dammit, I love that woman and this, it may break us."

"So you chose her? Over your son? What's happened to you, Derick?"

"No! I was trying to figure out how I could have both. You come here with a six-month-old child you never told me anything about. I missed your pregnancy, his birth, the first six months of his life. You stole all of that from me, and now I'm supposed to drop the woman who made me whole again? God! Admit it, this is more about you than him."

"No, you're wrong. Everything I do now is for him. Everything you do now should be for him too."

I walk over and take Connor from her arms. Ignoring her presence completely, I walk with him to the window. Looking out the window with him in my arms, I imagine what it would've been like to feel him kicking before he was born, to hold him as an infant, to rock him to sleep in the middle of the night. I question that if he had come along before everything else had happened, would Ann and I still be happy? But that's a lot of fantasies, too many ifs, and I've got no answers right now.

"When are you two leaving?"

"We're on the red-eye tonight. It's easier traveling when he's able to sleep."

"This is a long trip for him. I can't think of how you'd keep an eight-month-old busy for a six and a half hour flight."

"It's not easy, trust me."

"I'll let you know what's going on in the next couple of days."

"Do you promise this time?" I look down at Connor. He's fallen asleep, lulled by the rhythmic rocking motion I hadn't even realized I'd been doing. It's then that I finally feel something. I'm holding my son, a little me, and my heart melts at what I've missed and what's yet to come. There has to be a way to make all of this work out, a way to have them both, Jules and Connor. If it exists, I'm going to find it.

"I promise."

I walk her out to the street to get a cab back to her hotel. I hand Connor back to her and as he lays his head on her shoulder his eyes open, but quickly close to continue his nap. I lean in and I kiss him on his head.

"I promise, little guy. I won't miss any more."

They get into the car she had waiting, and I head back into the building. I need to talk to Jules. I need to explain all this. I need her to know that this wasn't something I knew about when we first got together. Though I've been hiding it for a while now, I wasn't all along.

I get off the elevator, and a shudder goes through me as I remember the last time I stepped out of it. I go straight to her office, where I find her door closed and her secretary, Nora, gone from her desk. I knock as I turn the handle and push the door open. She's gone.

Her computer is off, and her sweater and purse aren't hanging on the rack. When I come back out of the empty office, Nora is returning to her desk.

"Did Julia leave for the day?"

"I'm not really sure. I mean, she did leave, but didn't say anything to me, so I've been taking messages. I just happened to see her heading for the elevator."

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Derick."

I ignore the flirty tone she addresses me with and head straight to Frank's office. His door is cracked open, and I see him at his desk, on the phone. I knock, making sure it's just hard enough to force the door open a little farther so he can see it's me. He waves me in with his free hand while he finishes up his conversation. As I wait, I visualize myself reaching over and disconnecting his call, making it known that whatever is happening on the other end of that line can wait. Finally, he hangs up and addresses me.

"Hey, Derick, what's going on?"

"Did Julia let you know she left today? I was just in her office, and she's not there. Nora said she saw her leave, but doesn't know for sure."

"Yes, she called me to let me know she had left. Look, I don't need details, but being that I know more than you do at this point, I'd say it's personal and between the two of you."

"My ex-wife showed up today and —" He holds up a hand to stop me.

"Like I said, it's personal. But, I will say, that if it starts affecting work, we will have a problem."

"I understand. Thanks for telling me what you know. I'll take care of it."

"As Julia's friend I do have one personal request."

"What's that?"

"Don't just take care of _it_ , Derick. Take care of _her_." I nod in acceptance of his request and head for the door because, taking care of her is all I ever wanted to do.

Julia

I'VE BEEN GONE FOR HOURS, and Derick has texted me at least a dozen times. I think I've finally worked up the courage to go home and face him. I'm scared and dreading the future when hours ago it was so perfect, so sure. But he needs to explain all this to me. I have questions. Why didn't he tell me? When did he know? And most importantly, why is he still here in Boston? He has a son, the son he always wanted, and he's been hiding it from me for God only knows how long.

I walk in the door and the room is dark, but he's here. I can feel him though I can't see him. Ginger runs up to me in greeting, as she always does, and I pet her head for a moment before going to set my purse and keys on the coffee table. That's when I hear the sound of ice clinking in a glass and turn to where the lazy chair is, now able to make out his body sitting there.

I feel the need to be the first to speak, to assert my strength for once. I've let him somehow believe that I was weak, that I couldn't handle the truth, and I won't let him believe that any longer.

"When were you going to tell me about this? Actually, a better question would be, how long have you been keeping it from me?" I had told myself to stay calm, that keeping my temper in check would be the better way to handle this. But I quickly feel that resolve falling away.

"Soon. I was going to tell you soon. I wasn't sure how I was going to handle it yet. I'm just now coming to terms with the reality of it myself."

"You have a son, Derick! That's the reality of it! How long have you known?" My mind goes to the last time Ann was in town. The unresolved legal situation. He doesn't have to answer the question, I already know. "You've known since before Christmas."

Awareness hits me that I'm part of the reason he didn't tell me. He may not have wanted to tell me right away, because of disbelief, maybe even because he had some anger towards her, but then I told him about my kids. He was afraid to tell me because he knew that I lost my children, and I've made him believe that I'll never have more.

"That meeting you had with her the last time she was in town." It's not a question. My voice is again calm as the clarity settles over me.

"We had the paternity test then. I thought she was lying to me, that it was just some ploy to get back in my life. I was sure that the results would come back negative."

"But they didn't."

"No, they didn't. It all adds up to the last time we were together before our divorce. She kept it from me all this time. The pregnancy and the first six months of his life. I had no clue until she came to town claiming he was mine and offering up a test."

"When did you find out for sure?" I can feel it, the calm is about to change. I'm just not prepared for how much. There's a long pause before he answers, a silent objection to my request.

"She told me on January nineteenth." The words come out with a release of breath that it appears he'd much rather have held in. "But, I didn't see actual proof until Monday morning."

I can no longer hold in the sob that has been building in my throat as he answers. How ironic that on the commemoration of the day I lost my children, he finds out he has a son. I feel myself starting to fall, my legs no longer able to hold me. I feel as though I've been punched in the stomach and I give in to the pain. He moves quickly, scooping me up in his arms, and carrying me to the couch. Then he sits down with me on his lap, holding me so tight that I know he has no intention of letting me go.

I just want to sit there in his arms, where I've never felt anything but safe. I don't want to talk. I don't wish to hear any more at this moment. I just want silence. I don't want his apologies nor his explanations. This isn't his fault entirely and I have to remember that. But, the moment I feared months ago has come, only not the way I thought it would. He's faced with a choice, a decision between two people. In the end, whether he makes it himself, or I make it for him, it won't be me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

There's solace in her knowing the truth, but with it comes the overwhelming feeling of betrayal. She's trusted me all this time and I've been lying to her, keeping a secret that could ruin everything. I can't undo this. I can't go back and make it right and now I have to hope that what we've built is strong enough to get us through. I have hope for so many things right now, the biggest being that I won't lose her.

It's a complicated set of priorities, I know. My number one should be finding a way to have a relationship with my son, but nothing short of moving back to California seems to make sense. But for the first time in my life, I have no idea what I'm going to do. Even when I found Ann and Michael together, I knew what I had to do, the choice obviously simple. There was no worrying about the decisions I made being the right ones. This time, not only is my heart breaking, but there are also two other hearts involved. I can't stand to see either of them breaking too.

Her sobs have quieted, and now she sits silently in my lap, my arms still tight around her. I'm not sure if I'm holding her, or if I'm holding _onto_ her at this point. I want so much to break the eerie silence, but what will I say? If it were me in her position, I'm not sure there's anything I could hear that would help me understand this. Why, if I loved her so much, would I keep a secret like this from her? My effort to protect her may be the thing that breaks her, breaks us.

I don't know how long the silence lasts or how much time has passed when she speaks.

"I want to go to bed, Derick."

She starts to rise, but I hold her close, afraid to leave any distance between us. "I've got you." I rise with her in my arms and, as if she understands, she curls into me. I carry her up to our bed and lay her down, immediately feeling the loss as my hands leave her body. I can't shake the thought that this feeling may be one I'll come to know as normal very soon.

I walk around the bed, shedding my clothes as I go, so not to waste any time closing the distance the simple act creates between us. As I crawl into bed, she turns to face me.

"I love you," she says in a low voice, laced with the sound of oncoming tears.

"I love you, Jules. I'm—" She lays a finger on my lips to hush me before I can finish.

"Not tonight." She removes her finger from my lips and moves in to replace it with her lips. Her kiss is soft, and I can feel her lips quivering on mine. I want to take her with all the passion I feel for her. I want to show her why I needed to protect her from this, where my heart really was. But more than that, I want to take away the pain I've inflicted on her. I want to, but I'm not sure I can.

As she continues to kiss me, she lays her hand on my chest, holding it over my heart. I hope she can feel its beat, how fiercely it pounds at her touch. She has to know that she's the reason it beats at all. Every beat, every minute of every day, is for her.

I want to feel her heart too, I need to feel that it reacts the same way when I touch her. I want to feel, if only for now, that nothing has changed between us, that there's hope that nothing will. I press my hand to her chest and I feel it, its steady, strong rhythm beneath my hand.

In the hours that follow, no words are spoken between us. Our bodies convey every thought and all the feelings that need to be expressed. We aren't just having sex, we're making love in the most intense and profound way, exploring each other as if we never have before. This time is not about the release. It's about relief. It's about being with her in a place where it's beautiful, comfortable, and safe.

Derick

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN our relationship, I'm the one to wake up alone. I roll over to look at the clock and see that it's only six in the morning. I can only imagine that it has everything to do with last night. We didn't talk about what happened after I told her when it was I knew about Connor. She crumbled after that, as I feared she would. Then we both resorted to physical compassion, never mentioning another word.

What bothers me now is that she's not here and I have no idea how long she's been gone. While we made love last night, I couldn't shake the feeling of finality closing in on me. Our lovemaking is always passionate, but last night it was deeper than all the times before. It's was as if she was focused on committing every second of it to memory, to both our memories, as if it was intended to be our last.

I hope that I'm just being paranoid and that this feeling is a result of the guilt I have for lying to her. I get out of bed, stopping in the bathroom before I head downstairs. It's as quiet down here as it was in the room. No smell of morning coffee or toast being made, no Jules. Ginger does not greet me either, so I go to the door leading to the courtyard and it's then I can hear her.

She's talking to Ginger, or maybe herself, I'm not sure. Wrong or not, I decide to listen for a couple of minutes. She speaks softly, so I can't hear every word, but the few that I do hear instantly make my heart race: "I don't know how I'll say goodbye." and "I was stupid to think I could keep him." The only conclusion I can make from what I hear is that she's leaving. My heart instantly grows heavy enough to fall out of my chest and I want to rush out in protest, but my feet feel as though they are glued to the floor.

Then I hear her say, "Please take care of him, Ms. Ginger. You're the only other girl I trust, the only one that loves him as much as I do."

I can't take anymore. She hasn't even said the words to me and my heart is breaking. I _need_ to go for my run. I need to buy some time before she tells me she's leaving. I have to figure out a way to change her mind. Roses aren't going do it this time, I have to tell her, I have to make her understand that I can't do any of this without her. I don't interrupt her to take Ginger with me today because I don't want her to know I heard any part of her conversation.

I'm running as if my life depends on it. As if I can change everything I've fucked up and somehow make this work. But honestly, I have no idea how I'm going to do this. Ann won't move here, I don't even have to ask to know that answer. I don't want to move back there, not unless Jules were to come with me. There's a spark of hope in that thought, maybe she would. No. I'm silly and I'm desperate to think she would do that. She has ties here that I know she won't leave behind. There has to be another way.

When I walk in the door at home, I'm surprised to see her in the kitchen already dressed for work with her to-go cup of coffee in hand. I can feel my heart's pace quicken, knowing that she doesn't intend to talk about the obvious, not this morning.

"Jules." I'm trying not to look pathetic, but I know I'm failing, and I also know that she can see right through me.

"I'm going to take the train in this morning. I have a few things I have to get done from yesterday."

"I'll ride in with you. I just need to hop in the shower." She holds her hand out to quiet me. Then closes her eyes, as if to think of her next words.

"I'll meet you there, okay?" Just like that, she's already putting distance between us. I don't know what to say, so I settle for nothing. I walk over to her and lift her chin to look at me instead of down at her cup of coffee. In her eyes I see confusion, regret, and hurt, all of which I caused.

"Okay." I kiss her softly on her lips then release her and walk away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

I'm managing to get through the day, the distraction of work leaving very little time to think about the conversation that will happen later tonight. He's not going to understand that this has almost nothing to do with the fact that he lied and kept this secret from me. It does, however, have everything to do with the fact that now he has someone else who needs him more than I do. He has his son. He's also not going to understand how hard it is for me to let him go because I won't let him see that.

He doesn't have to make a choice between us because there isn't one. And in this situation, I don't want his strength. I'll have to summon my own and hope it's enough.

I worked through lunch, tactfully avoiding time for conversation and odd silences. I also went into Frank's office requesting tomorrow and all of next week off.

"Do you mind telling me what this is about, Julia?" Frank asks, his voice laced with concern. And although I hate pity, he's my only friend and this does concern him because of Derick's position here.

"I'm breaking up with Derick." His eyebrows raise in question and I know I have to give him answers. "He has a son, Frank." My voice breaks and I fight to hold back my tears. If I can't get through this now, I don't stand a chance when I talk to Derick tonight. "He kept it from me, he lied about it. But it's not that, Derick needs to be with him. I won't make him choose."

"I see. How do you know he'll go? He's a grown man, Julia. He'll make his own decision."

"Either way, he'll lose me. If he stays, I won't respect him. If he goes, he'll keep my respect and he'll have his son. There's no decision to make."

"I'm sorry, Julia." He is, I can hear it in the tone of his voice.

"Don't, Frank. You know I don't want that."

"I know. Just know that I'm here, okay?"

"Give me a week. I promise I'll come back better than ever." It's an empty promise, but once again, as it did before Derick came along, work will be the only thing I have to take me away from the reality of loss. It saved me once; I'll have to trust it to save me again.

Derick

AT FIVE, JULES WAITS FOR me at the car. I haven't seen her all day and it's been excruciating to say the least, but it gave me time to think. I have no idea how to explain myself, there's no excuse for what I did. None, except that I thought I was protecting her. It was a noble but pitiful decision I made.

I promised her forever. Promised her that we were a team, then I went and left her out of one of the most important aspects of my life. It doesn't matter that I didn't know of him until after we got together. She should've been the first one I told and we should've gone through this together. She's so much stronger than I gave her credit for and I easily admit that this is all my fault.

I'm mad at myself for being this person that I'm not. Lying, denying, and hiding. That's not me, it never has been, and I don't know why I chose to be this way now.

She goes to the car and gets in without saying a word. The fact that she's here tells me that something's going to happen. We can't go on much longer without talking about this, something's got to give. When we get to the loft, before she exits the car, she grabs my hand and speaks.

"Can we take a walk?"

"Sure. Let me go get Ginger. I'll be right back. Okay?"

"Okay."

I come back a couple of minutes later, Ginger in tow. Jules is leaning against the car and looks to be in deep thought. I can't say I haven't been wrapped up in that trance most of the day myself. I just wish I knew what she was thinking.

We set off walking towards the park. She doesn't say anything for the short walk but when I reach for her hand, she allows me to take it. Instantly, I'm afraid I'm holding it too tight, but also afraid I may not be holding on tight enough. As we round the walk to our bench, I find myself in familiar territory but under unfamiliar circumstances. The last time we came here together, I asked her to marry me. I was sure of what I wanted but terrified that she didn't want the same. That's eerily the case again tonight.

She guides us to our bench to sit. I let Ginger off her leash and toss the ball that I brought along, just in case this was where we were heading. I'm watching her closely as she begins to say something, then replaces her words with a deep breath. She shouldn't be the one looking for words because it's me who owes explanations.

"Jules. I fucked up not telling you as soon as I knew. We can get through this. I've been thinking—" She doesn't allow me to finish.

"I never told you that the day you found me here, I was talking to Alex. I was asking for a sign from him that it was time to move on. Seconds later, you and Ginger showed up. You were my sign." She's not looking at me as she talks, and it's driving me crazy that she won't meet my eyes. Her focus is out there, somewhere over the pond. "I'm hurt that you lied to me, hurt that you couldn't share the fact that you have a little boy. But I won't pretend I don't know why you did it."

"You lied to me too, remember. You kept secrets too and I've never held it against you." It's a very low blow to put that out there but if I'm correct about how the conversation is going to end, I have to show that I've got some fight in me.

"I did keep secrets from you too. I didn't tell you about people who physically ceased to exist, making mine very different from yours. I kept them because I didn't want to be pitied and protected from life. I didn't want you to do exactly what you did."

"Jules, at first, I thought she was lying. I wasn't going to acknowledge it or say anything about it until I knew. I wouldn't put something like that past her. Then she called with the results while we were at the cemetery. That was your time, and I needed to be there for you."

"Why, more than a month later did I find out from her? It should have been you, Derick. How long did you think you could go on hiding it from me? How much more of his life were you willing to miss to protect my heart in exchange for breaking his? You've been given a beautiful gift, maybe not how you hoped, but nonetheless, you have."

I don't know what to say to her. She's right. I have a son. I should be spending my time feeling blessed that I have this little man I can love and teach. That no matter who the mother is, he's a part of me.

"I'm ashamed, Jules. In thinking that I was shielding you from your own heartbreak, I've made myself look like an ungrateful ass."

"No, you haven't. But it's obvious what you have to do." She finally looks at me and the look on her face is one I can read. It's in the tears that fill her eyes, it's in the way her lips quiver as she tries to stifle a sob. She's going to say goodbye.

"I want you to come with me. We can be a family, Jules."

"I can't do that. I can't go with you and you can't stay here." Her tears are freed and roll down her cheeks. And I know that her choice is as clear as mine should be, but for different reasons.

"Dammit! Don't make me choose. I don't have to give up one to have the other. Everything I promised you, it wasn't bullshit. You're my forever."

"I'm not asking you to choose, and I shouldn't have to. We both know what the right thing to do is. If you don't go on your own, I'll leave you no option at all."

I shake my head, because I don't want to admit it, but I do know. I have to go be with my son. If I didn't, I wouldn't expect Jules to want to keep me anyway. What would that say about my loyalties and what my love is worth?

"It won't be forever. I'll come back for you. I'll take Ann to court, I'll get custody, we'll all be together." I look at her and lock eyes with her, needing her attention and complete focus to be on my words. "You are still my forever. Not even this will change that."

"Miracles happen every day. I guess we'll have to wait and see. Right now your miracle is in California." She lets go of my hand to remove the ring from her finger, the one I gave her, at this very spot. I reach over to stop her. There's too much finality in that ring leaving her hand. I'm serious about coming back for her.

"No. It belongs to you, just like my heart. You will always hold the key." My mother will understand.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We walk back to the loft and it's no surprise when Jules leaves for her condo. Although I have no intentions of this being the end for us, I let her go. This is not easy. Actually, it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I won't be the man she needs unless I do this.

Sleep doesn't come easy and when it does, it's restless at best. Awake I think of her, asleep I dream of her. But I refuse to cry because it's not over and I refuse to feel my heart breaking because it's still hers. I'll do what I need to do and I'll fulfill all my promises to her. Anything or anyone worth having doesn't come easily.

Julia

I GO BACK TO THE loft to get my things while he's not there, part of my plan for taking the day off. Besides the fact that I didn't sleep at all last night, I don't think I could take seeing him as I finalize our breakup by moving out. Though it's so much deeper than that. This is not just a breakup. It's a sacrifice. I don't want to let him go. I have to.

He promises to come back for me, and that sounds so much like a fairy tale, but life isn't a fairy tale. I'm not a princess and he's not a prince. We're just two people who found love and used that love to heal each other.

Ginger meets me at the door, as though it's any other day and I envy that she's unable to understand but thankful that she'll be there for him. I scratch her ears and bend down to kiss her head. Then, I get to my task, not wanting to be here any longer than I need to be. Every second is making the hold on my chest tighter, and my choice more painful.

I go up to the bedroom and empty my clothes from the closet, then go to get my toiletries and such from the bathroom. As I reach into the shower to get my body wash, razor, and shampoo, my eyes fall on his bottle of body soap. I can't help myself from setting down my things for a minute to open it and hold it to my nose. I love this smell. It's his, and although I came here with strength, I feel it crumbling with the thought that I'll never smell him again. I'll never touch him again or kiss him again. And, what makes it ten times worse is that it's not because he's dead, like Alex. I find myself realizing that, as much as it hurt to not have Alex because he died, it's nothing like not being able to have Derick because someone else needs him more. That which is within your grasp, but out of your reach.

I close the bottle and place it back on the shelf, and I pick up my things and leave the room with tears in my eyes. They are not the first and surely not the last of many I will shed. I'll have to make arrangements to have the vanity brought back to my condo. It was the only piece of my furniture I brought over, but I can't move it alone. I walk to it to clear its top, and my eyes go to my jewelry box. The rose Derick placed on its top, on January nineteenth, is still there, but now encased in the glass, locked inside, just like the secrets we both kept.

I carefully pick up the box, wanting to preserve its contents. It was the last rose he gave me, so I need what it had to say to last forever, like we were meant to. With that thought, my eyes fill with tears again, and as much as I want to stay, I need to go. As quickly as I can, I move my things out to the car. I go in one last time to make sure I have it all and to give Ginger one last goodbye and I see my cello in the corner, on its stand. I'll never look at it the same. I'll never play it the same as I once did because he also changed that for me.

My music was no longer a coping mechanism, it was pleasure and foreplay that lead to something so deep and so beautiful, no words can describe it. I go to the closet to get its case and pack it up. It's the last part of me to go. I stop again to pet Ginger, and with tears now rolling down my cheeks, I ask her a favor.

"Take care of him, girl. Protect him and love him all right?"

She answers by licking tears from my face. She understands, I know she does. I straighten up and pick up my case to go. I don't bother with one last look, because I'll never forget one moment of my time here. Holding my breath in order to hold back the tears I want to cry, I set my loft key and his engagement ring on the coffee table and walk over the threshold, pulling the door closed behind me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two and a half weeks later, Derick is back in California and I'm back at work. I've fallen back into my routine; the one I had before he came along. I exist. But it's different this time. I miss him so much every day, but I feel like, although I'm alone again, I have hope for a life that's more than simply existing.

As I finish my morning preparations, I go to my vanity to get my necklace. I still wear it because what it means is still at least half true. He has the key to my heart, as long as he lives, he always will. It serves as a reminder that second chances can happen.

Opening my glass box, I pick up the necklace, careful not to disturb the box's only other content, the rose. It's ironic how looking at the dried, now dead rose, I see our beginning and our end. _Stemming from secrets_ and now our life together is withered and lifeless. Not because we lacked love, but because I loved him too much to let him choose me.

Derick may never know how much he is responsible for bringing love back into my life, how he brought life back to my life. And though it's early yet and I only suspect right now, he may never know that he left a small piece of his life inside of me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia and Derick's story is not over just yet. The third and final book in the Ninety-Nine Roses Series, coming Summer 2016.

While my list of people to thank has definitely grown since my first book was released it has also become much more broad in its spectrum. This time around, I get to thank my readers. Though they are still a relatively small group, in this case size does not matter. Besides the fact that since I've discovered this love for writing, it's quickly become an obsession, my need to keep creating my stories is fueled by all of your positive comments, praise, and pleas for more. I didn't start doing this to become famous or to make tons of money, I did it to satisfy my need to share myself through my creations. So, with all that being said, the first and biggest thank you goes to all of you who live, read, and love my work.

My husband Bob, who has been tremendously patient and understanding throughout this entire process. It must get terribly frustrating to know that while I'm physically here, my mind is always creating one of my stories. But you must know that all the love that I'm able to express through my work comes from all the love you give me. No love so profound can come from anything but experience. Every day you show me the kind of love that books and dreams are made of.

Children are amazing creatures and mine are the best. Alizabeth, your talent when related to your photography just continues to grow. I'm so happy to have this special project that we work on together, time spent together that we will never forget. You bring the visual beauty to my books and your work is the first they see. Thank you for being mine. Shawnie, my little girl. It'll be many years still before you can appreciate what came of all the time and late nights mommy spent on this. You're my own personal piece of fate and destiny at work and your very existence proves that miracles happen every day. I love you both so much.

To my two oldest, I know my writing is not really your cup of tea, and I respect that. I just want you to know that I do appreciate your support in this journey.

Over the last year and few months, I've learned what special and hidden talents some of the people in my life possess. With this new information and very generous offers, my group of Betas has grown. Though the efforts of my two originals, Carole and Kim, were instrumental to the release of TMWR, I now know that seven pairs of eyes are even better than three. Adding another Carol, Barbara, Jen, and Carmela, gave me four fresh views and helped to ensure that SFS would go out perfect on the first shot. To all of you, your time, work, and dedication to this book is priceless.

Though I lost her four years ago, by the time this book is released, not one minute of creating this story goes on without her. My mother is the angel that keeps pushing me when frustration is unbearable, reminding me that nothing good comes easy. She fought for everything she had, often times alone and if I received nothing else from her, it was her ability to be strong and keep going. I wish she were here every day, but know that she is still with me every day.

Joanne, Mary, and Connie, thank you for all your support, advice, and love. I can only imagine that hearing me talk about my books all the time gets old, but my girls at work never act as if it does. They are always ready to hear of my new developments, excited to read the next book, and happy to hear of my accomplishments. I couldn't ask for better women to spend the majority of my waking hours with.

A super huge shout out to Jen of Just One More Page Promotions! I had never imagined how much there was to learn in this business. But as an indie, you have to know it all, because you're doing most of it yourself. I still have much more, but it is people like Jen that are helpful and kind, and when it came to choosing someone to work with during the promotional phases, there was no competition. She hates being swooned over, because the way she treats people is just the way she is, but it's a quality that deserves appreciation and thanks, which she undoubtedly receives from me.

Again, a huge thank you to Daniela Prima from Prima Editing & Proofreading for helping to make my work perfect. I can't wait to finish this journey with you. http://primaeditingproofreading.weebly.com

The hardest part of writing the author bio is making it sound like someone else is writing it, when in reality, most of us write our own. Well, I'm taking the _easy_ route this time. Let me tell you about me. I'm usually not one to talk about myself much, but for the sake of my writing, here goes.

My name is Mareta L. Miller, and I'm a thirty-something-year-old Las Vegas native. Trust me when I say that growing up in Vegas is not as awesome as it sounds. I've never lived in a casino and I've never been a stripper or a showgirl, but I have spotted Elvis no less than twice a day, my entire life. I'm just your average wife and mother of ten. Yup, I said ten, consisting of three daughters, a stepson, three puppies (because mine will never be dogs), two kitties, and a turtle.

I wish I could say I don't have to work outside of my writing, but I do, and rectifying that fact is on the top of my "When I make it Big" list. Working the standard forty-hour week, doesn't leave much time to write, but I take advantage of every minute I have. Late nights and early mornings make for really long days, but I figure I can sleep later.

My writing, which only started a little over a year ago, has become a constant need. It's been my way to deal with fear, but also a way to create hope. Hope that real love exists and can conquer. It gives me a feeling of accomplishment and I love being able to share my stories with all of you. I hope you'll continue to follow me on this journey because this is only my beginning. Although my wings have begun to flutter, you've yet to really see me fly.

Keep up with me and my future projects at

<http://www.maretalmiller.com/>

&

<http://www.facebook.com/maretalmiller>

If you enjoyed this book, I would be honored if you'd

kindly leave a review on any of the following,

Amazon.com, Smashwords.com,

Barnesandnoble.com, or

<https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14301805.Mareta_L_Miller>
