December 23.

I don't wanna steal your freedom
I don't wanna change your mind
I don't have to make you love me
I just want to take your time

I sit at my large, glass desk sucking lightly on the tip of my pen. I've slumped down in my chair a little as I stare aimlessly out of the large windows onto the snowy New York City. My legs are crossed at the knee, my head cocked to the side slightly as I twirl the pen ever so slowly on my lips. My eyes don't really focus on anything in particular, they've sort of just glazed over. I barely blink as the thoughts circle around my brain. I'm lost. In many different ways. I'm lost in thought and I have no idea how long I've actually been sitting here like this. I'm sure my phone is ringing off the hook, my personal cell phone is probably chiming and dinging like crazy, my email chirping from my IMac. I've toned all that noise out and it's just me and the city and my thoughts. These lapses in time have been adding up with me lately. More and more, I find myself just... staring.

I'm losing my way. Each and every day, I feel myself slipping further and further into this hole and I'm scared. What if this is it? This is what I gave him up for? Or maybe this is just the universe paying me back for what I've done. For the hurt I caused him that day. I got everything I thought I wanted, the big desk, the high paying job, a shot at making partner at one of the biggest law firms in the busiest city on the planet... but I'm made to suffer every day with fleeting thoughts of him. Oh, what a sick joke.

You've got a lot to get through today, snap out of it, my head screams as I draw a long breath. You don't want to bring your laptop with you, do you? Then quit. I slam my eyes shut and exhale again, trying to erase all of the abuse I've been shouting at myself internally and run my fingers through my dark brown, fake, locks. God, he used to love running his fingers through my hair. My natural, shoulder length, need a relaxer like last month hair. We would lie in bed for hours, not speaking, with him just over and over and over again, running those long fingers through my tangles...

My eyes shoot open suddenly as I lose the memory and it fades away for another day. I shake my head slightly and turn back towards my computer before another random memory can begin its assault. But there it sits. The small, red velvet box that's haunted me for fifteen years. I can't get rid of it. I've tried to throw it away countless times, knowing that I'll never move on until I do. There's not even anything in it but I can't get rid of it. It's the last thing I have to remind me of him. I know deep down that I'll keep it forever. Even though I don't need to.

"Miss Vaughn?"

I snap my head toward my petite assistant/receptionist who hides behind her cute red framed glasses and blonde curls, "It's twelve thirty, would you like me to order you some lunch?"

I take a breath, glancing toward my computer and trying to act natural, "Uh, no, I think I'll just grab something at the airport later."

"Alright. Well, I've sent the email that you'll be leaving the office at two and will only be answering your personal cell in case of emergency. I've forwarded all your files to Don and let your clients know that he will be the point of contact until then end of your vacation. I just need your signature on a few things." She walks toward me, head buried in her iPad as she flips open a manila folder and holds it for me to sign, "I've also set up the vacation voice mail on both your phones."

I smile a little as I scribble my signature on the pieces of paper in front of me. She is so efficient, "Thank you Missy."

"Not a problem. Do you need anything else? Are you sure you don't want something to eat?" She asks, returning the smile and tucking her iPad underneath her arm.

I wave her off, crossing my legs again, "No, no, I think you've covered everything. Why don't you go ahead and take off, I know you have a flight to catch as well."

The small blonde lights up as the words leave my lips, but she quickly tries to cover up her excitement, "Are you sure? I mean, I have a few other things to tidy up around here."

"Go Missy. You and Gavin have fun, okay? Say hi to him for me."

Missy smiles again, this time a wide, toothy one, "Thank you so much Aria. Have a merry Christmas and New Year. I'll see you on the fifth."

"Bye, hon."

I watch as she turns and clicks out of my office, her body swaying slightly in her gray pencil skirt with matching white shirt and gray vest. She's so cute I could strangle her. I turn back to my computer and try and get back on track with my day so I don't have to work while I'm back home. A few minutes later, Missy waves at me as she passes by the glass door with her free hand as the other holds her phone up to her ear as she speaks with whom I assume is her husband, Gavin. I wag my fingers back and return to my keyboard, clicking away as I save my client's world.

I actually do a pretty good job at keeping the thoughts at bay because it seems that next time I check my phone, the time reads one forty five. I answer up a last email and send out the obligatory, I'll be back after the New Year, wishing all a happy holidays email, that not one person will read, and log out of my computer. I push away from my desk and head toward the corner of my office, grabbing my coat and wrapping up in my favorite scarf before slinging my gray Michael Kors bag over my shoulder. I shuffle back over to my desk and grab my iPad, tucking it into my bag safely. I bite my lip, knowing that I'm forgetting something but I turn toward the door and try to begin my decent to the street.

I wave at a few people, give a few hugs and stop just momentarily to make small talk with another colleague. I'm just about to make my exit when I hear my name being called, "Aria. I'm glad I caught you."

I turn and plaster a smile on my face as my boss, Paul George, stops me. I extend my hand and he grabs it, shaking slightly, "Paul, how are you? I didn't think you made it into the office today."

He chuckles, "Ah, I wasn't going to but I had a few things to handle. Listen, I know you're going on vacation to... um..."

"Tennessee." I chime in, knowing good and damn well he has no clue what state I'm from.

"Oh yes, it's beautiful out there this time of year. Anyway, I just wanted to update you on the partner situation. A little birdy told me that if the Anderson case continues as smoothly as it has been and we close the deal, you are a virtual shoe in for the spot."

I let out a breath and plaster a huge smile on my face again, "That's great news. Thank you."

He grabs my elbow and squeezes gently, "No, thank you. You have a great asset to us Aria, it's about time we reward you for it. Have a wonderful vacation and I'll be seeing you."

"Thank you Paul, same to you. Say hello to the wife for me." We lean in for a hug and just as soon as he came, he's walking off, back down the hall.

I turn and head toward the elevator, my face dropping as soon as I step into the empty box. I slam my finger on the 'L' bottom and rest my head against the wall as I chew on my bottom lip. I should be happy. That's fantastic news. Partner. I don't want it though. What the fuck? I don't want this, I haven't wanted this in years. I sigh as the elevator stops at nearly every floor as it fills up with souls. I tap my foot as I wait anxiously for the elevator to hit the lobby floor and the gold doors to slide open. We all file out one by one and soon I'm weaving though bodies in the lobby, inching closer and closer to the outside world.

I pass through the doors and shiver instantly as the cold whips through my hair and envelopes me in a nice, chilly hug. I clasp my hand to my scarf and jog slightly over to the valet, pulling my ticket from my pocket and bouncing on my feet as he runs off into the garage. Within minutes, my white Mercedes Benz pulls up to my feet and I'm heading toward my high-rise apartment, deep in the city. The drive is quiet, I don't even turn on the radio. I just thumb my fingers against the leather steering wheel as I wind through the snowy streets. Before I know it, I'm pulling up to yet another valet, this time, at my apartment. I fling open the door and am greeted by Will.

"Good afternoon Miss Vaughn."

"Good afternoon Will. Can you have a taxi for me at five please?"

He nods as he helps me out of the car and hands me my purse, "Sure thing. JFK or LaGuardia?"

"JFK, thank you." I smile genuinely at him, and palm a fifty dollar bill into his large, burly hand, "Merry Christmas Will."

"Merry Christmas Miss Vaughn. Thank you."

I rush inside and head straight toward the elevator, punching my floor number and checking my phone as I make my way upstairs. Once the door dings, I step off and head toward my apartment, digging in my bag to find my house keys. I slam the copper key into the lock and push my way into my heated home. The TV blares in the background and the faint smell of chicken wafts towards me.

"Tom?" I call, shredding my scarf and jacket and throwing them over the back of the couch as I head toward the kitchen, "I thought you said you were leaving for Chicago today?"

The tall blonde man I call my boyfriend, glances up at me from behind his paper as he pops a piece of grilled chicken into his mouth, "My flight was delayed. I'm not leaving until tomorrow morning. How was your day?" I walk toward him and go to plant a kiss but he ducks away from me, "Come on babe, your lipstick."

I pull away from him and sigh, walking away from him to grab a water from the refrigerator, "It was okay. I'm going to pack."

He grunts something at me but I don't stop my stride as I move through the expensive apartment and into the bedroom, where I slam the door. I head straight to the closet, kicking off my shoes and returning them to their rightful spot. I grab my suitcase and begin methodically going through my wardrobe, tossing random articles of clothing onto the bed and pulling shoes from their boxes. It takes about an hour but I'm fully packed, changed into more comfortable clothing and answering a text message from my anxious yet happy mother. This is the first time I've been home in fifteen years.

My stomach starts to gurgle as the nerves begin to flood through my veins. I've been avoiding Tennessee ever since that beautiful Sunday afternoon fifteen years ago. He's still there. How can I go home knowing that with every turn, I could possibly run into him? So I didn't. For five thousand, four hundred and seventy five days, I avoided my home town until my mother finally threatened to never speak to me again unless I came home.

"It's okay honey. You can't run from him forever."

I wish I could.

I stay hidden in the bedroom with the rest of the afternoon with my boyfriend staying in the kitchen. This is how our days go mostly. I think this is the longest we've been in the apartment together in quite some time. He's usually jet setting across the country, fucking every woman that crosses his path. He thinks I don't know, he thinks I make him use condoms so I don't get pregnant. I don't care though. I should, but I don't. I don't love him. I never did. I never have and I never will. He only keeps me around for the status. The black, future partner of a law firm is a great catch to have on your arm at the million dollar executive dinner. Not the bimbos he gallivants around with.

I remember a time when I couldn't peel myself away from my man. We did everything together. I don't think we would let a single hour pass without one of us professing our love for the other. We were so beautiful, young, and carefree. I yearn for that now. I yearn for him. But I messed it all up and now I'm doomed with Tom. Boring, lazy, Tom. Ugh.

Four forty five rolls around and I'm carrying my luggage out into the foyer. Tom is still moving around the apartment, I hear his soft steps and the radio in his office going, "Tom, I'm leaving." I call, pulling my jacket and scarf back around my small frame.

"Alright babe, love you." He calls back.

"Love you too." I mumble, rolling my eyes and heading back out into the hallway, closing the door behind me.

I step out into the cold New York air just as my taxi is pulling up. Will opens the door and helps me inside, telling the driver once again to drop me off at JFK and I'm off, starting my journey closer and closer to home and him. I stare out the window as the buildings whiz by, my mind wandering back to those haunting thoughts as I wring my hands together slowly. God, I hope I don't see him. Maybe he'll be in Nashville or Memphis. Or maybe, it'll just play out that we'll just barely miss each other with every step that we take and avoid the awkwardness. Maybe.

We make to JFK, and I'm going through the motions to get checked in and at my gate with literally thousands of other travelers. I've been through this process many, many times. I print off my ticket from the self-check in kiosk, check my bags, stand in line to have the agent check my license and ticket, remove my shoes and get groped by a small, red headed woman, replace my shoes after security and head toward my gate. It's like I'm in a haze. I stop at a restaurant, find a seat at the bar and order two shots of Patron.

I slam the first one down, the liquid burning my throat and stomach as it makes its way through my body. I let out a breath and close my eyes before taking the second shot. My liquid courage if you must. When the bartender makes his way back to me, I order a burger and fries and one more shot, requesting that it be brought only after I've devoured the food. My haze continues as I eat slowly, and swallow the poisonous liquid one more time. I drag myself through the airport, finding that my plane has already started boarding once I reach the gate. Shit. Now I don't even have time to talk myself up for this.

I stand motionless as the gate agent calls the next sections to start boarding, my eyes locked on the door leading me to my most certain hell. Home. Him. Memories. Hurt. Pain. Home. I blink a few times, dragging my mind back into the present and take a caution step forward. My mom will kill me and then never speak to me again if I don’t board this plane. She's the only voice that keeps me going nowadays. Well, hers and his. I take another step, and another and another until I'm taking my first class seat in the large, leather chair. I glance up at the people rushing past me to their seats, looks on their faces just like mine. It's kind of funny actually. This is supposed to be the most joyous time of the year, yet everyone looks angry and depressed for a million different reasons.

Once the stewardess go through their safety routine and prepare us for takeoff, I order a forth shot. I don't want to deal with this two hour flight, my mind can't take it. I slam the final shot and feel the warmth flood through my entire body, closing my eyes and taking it all in as the older gentleman beside me does the same, "Merry Christmas." He nods toward me, smirking gently before swallowing his own shot.

“Happy New Year." I offer back, before sinking a little more into my chair and turning my head toward the window, just as we start to taxi away from the gate.

Within minutes, the alcohol starts to take its toll and my eyes become as heavy as bricks. I adjust to get comfortable and I'm asleep before we even take off.

***

June 18th, 2000.

I can't stop pacing. My hands are sweaty, my chest is pounding, my head throbbing. I'm gonna throw up. My stomach turns as I pace quietly back and forth in front of the body length mirror. I tug at the neckline of this white, lacy dress as I let out a grunt. It's suffocating me. I turn toward the window and run to it, slamming it open so I can get some fresh air. I slam my eyes shut and try to breathe deeply but I can't catch my breath. Oh god, am I having a panic attack? Why is this happening? I'm happy! We're happy, I should want this. I love him.

But I'm young. We're both so young. I want to do so much and I haven't even had the chance to even try to do them yet. But God, do I love him. I turn from the window and run my sweaty hand through my curly hair, glancing wildly around the room as I tug slightly on my locks. My chest rises and falls harshly as the tears threaten to fall once again, smearing my once perfect make up. My body begins to shake as I make my way back toward the mirror and stare at my reflection. My dress is beautiful, exactly what I wanted. I remember when I spotted it in the window and I jumped up and down like a little girl when he promised to buy it for me. He worked two jobs that winter to get it for me.

An old clock somewhere deep in the small church chimes and I jump slightly. I glance up at the small digital clock hanging on the wall. In twenty minutes, I'll be married. I'll be Mrs. Justin Timberlake. I've dreamed of this moment since I was six years old. But now that the day is here, I don't want it anymore. I don't want this small, country life. I want out. I want to go to school, maybe become an editor or a lawyer. I want power suits and expensive dinners in the city and... a life. But do I want a life without him? I thought I didn't. But he doesn't want to leave Tennessee. I'll be stuck if I stay.

This is it, Aria. This is the fork in the road. I throw my head back, my face breaking as the hot tears stream down my cheek, "I'm sorry," I say aloud, whimpering and crying as I begin to mourn the death of us, "I'm so sorry."

I turn toward the window and kick off my heels, throwing them behind me as I leap toward the exit. Once my tights-clad feet hit the soft, green grass, I take off, my dress dragging through the dirt as I run. The warm breeze envelopes me as I continue to cry and run as far from the church as possible. I trip and fall as I weave my way through the trees but I don't move right away. I dig my hands into the soft earth as the tears drip from my eyes. I turn and glance over my shoulder at the small church where the boy I've loved since I was a child, unknowingly waits for me. I glance back down at my now dirty dress, soiled with grass stains and dirt, my white tights just as dirty. Even if I wanted to go back, I couldn't. How would I explain the mess?

But something pulls me to my feet and I'm running again, barefoot, as my heart breaks but my mind keeps pushing me forward. Once back at our small home, I rush into the bedroom, ripping the suffocating dress from my small body and changing quickly. I dig through my nightstand and pull out a white envelope, filled with the cash I had been saving for the honeymoon. I don't even pack a bag. I don't even put on socks. I just jam my feet into my white Keds, grab my purse and turn to run off when the small, red velvet box stops me. It's sits on the bureau, staring back at me. I pick it up slowly, swallowing roughly as I pop it open to reveal it empty and it all washes over me again. I slam it into my purse, I'm not even sure why, and take off running again, busting through the house and back out onto the street.

The wind whips around me as I make my way to the bus station, my face stained with tears, my lungs and legs burning. My mind races as I run inside, tilting my head up to scan the board of departures, trying to find anywhere but here. My brown eyes land on New York City and it's leaving in just ten minutes. I run to the counter, bouncing up and down as I wait behind the elderly woman, turning my head from side to side, checking to make sure I don't run into anybody that I know. Anyone that knows I should be standing in a church at this very moment, giving my life to a beautiful young man. When the lady moves, I slam my money down on the counter and spit out, "One for New York."

The young guy behind the counter eyes me for a second, I know I must be a freight. Smeared makeup, dried tears, my hair strewn all around my head. I even buttoned my small, gray cardigan in the wrong holes. But he prints my ticket and hands me my change, pointing toward the large bus to the right. I run to the bus and board, handing my ticket to the driver as he punches it. I head straight to the back and plop down, sinking into the chair and tucking my legs underneath my chin as I start to cry all over again. He's going to hate me. He's not going to understand, I don't even understand, but something was telling me to run. Something was telling me that I wasn't ready for this. Just as the bus pulls away, I close my eyes and slam my head on the back of the seat, saying silent goodbyes.

Everyone at the church waited for me. Justin bit his lip as he nervously stood at the altar with Trace, his best friend, who smiled uneasily back at him. Ten minutes, then twenty went by, and then thirty before our mothers stood from their seats and ushered back to the room I was supposed to be in. When they found it empty, and the window open, Lynn screamed and my mother Joan just started to cry. Justin ran back toward the noise and all he could hear was his mother chanting, "She's gone. She's gone baby. She's gone."

He raced back to our small home, busted through our bedroom and fell to his knees when he saw my dirty dress thrown to the ground. His beautiful face and heart broke all at the same time and he cried himself to sleep that night, wondering what he had or hadn't done for me. Why did I go? Aria, his precious Aria. His love. The hurt soon turned to hate as he awoke the morning after and tore through our closet, ripping my clothes, shoes, makeup and jewelry from their places and throwing them into the backyard. He ripped up every picture, every keepsake, and every little thing that reminded him of me as his mother begged him to calm down.

The two of us never spoke again.

I cried the entire way to New York. I wandered around the city for hours, trying to find somewhere, anywhere to rest my head so I could think. I find a hotel room and barricade myself inside for days, not eating, not drinking, just crying. But one morning, I wake up and know that I have to get up. I made the choice to run and now I have to keep on. I get up, I find a job as a hotel clerk and a nighttime gig as a waitress. I save up and put myself through school, never being able to shake my thoughts of him. My Justin.

I awake with a start and I'm back on the crowded plane. The people around me are standing and grabbing their belongings, waiting for the stewardesses to open the door to release us. I run my fingers through my long hair and undo my seat belt, standing slowly as I pull my purse over my shoulder. Just like cattle, we all usher toward the exit and onto the tunnel as the flight attendants wish us a happy holidays. I duck my head and stare down at my feet as I walk slowly into the airport and only lift my head at the sound of my mother and sister.

"Aria! Over here!"

I smile genuinely at the sight of the two of them and I feel a sense of ease wash over me, if only momentarily, "Hey guys." I nearly whisper as they both pull me into a big hug.

"You look so good baby. My baby is finally home." My mom says after a moment, pulling away from me to take me in, "My baby." Her eyes cloud over with tears but she wills them away. My momma was always strong. She held the family together with her tough but loving demeanor. She never let us see her cry.

"You look great too momma. So do you Hannah, you look beautiful."

She clicks her tongue, "You best believe girl. I hope you're hungry cuz momma went crazy cooking for you. She made all of your favorites. She don't ever cook for me."

We laugh as momma pushes my younger sister softly, "Hush yourself girl, I've done for you your whole life."

Hannah throws her arm around my shoulder as we head toward baggage claim, "She lyin' Aria. She don't cook for me anymore."

"I forgot how much I've missed your crazy ass Han." I laugh, throwing my arm around her small waist.

We grab my bags a few minutes later and head out into the chilly Memphis air, jumping into my mother’s old Chevy Bronco. Hannah fills me in on all the city's gossip, pointing out the window at buildings and houses and familiar landmarks. I start to tune her out as I watch the city pass us by as we get pulled closer and closer to Shelby Forest. A small smile spreads across my face as memories of my childhood play out in my mind. Man, I used to own these streets of Memphis as a teen. I'd leave on a Friday night and wouldn't return home until Sunday afternoon, not caring that I'd be put on punishment for the next week to come.

Home.

Once in Shelby Forest, my mother pulls slowly through as I smile at all the lit up homes and town buildings. There are a few people still on the streets but it's getting late and the sun has set and soon, it'll be a ghost town. My mother avoids going down Palmer Street, where Justin and I once rented that little, old house but she can't avoid Lynn and Paul's place. I drop my head as we pass, feeling as though I'm not good enough to even view their loving home. I let out a sigh but keep my eyes on my lap until my mother pulls the old Bronco into the driveway of our southern home. White Christmas lights run along the driveway and sidewalk up to the porch. The railing is circled with green garland and the tree trunks are decorated with multicolored lights. A single green pine wreath, decorated with bows and ribbons and one large, red flower hangs on the front door.

My mother, Hannah and I climb from the truck and head inside where the warmth from the heater wraps me up into a tight hug. After a few steps inside, a happy golden retriever runs over to greet us, "Well hi there. Who's this?" I ask, dropping down to his level and scratching behind his ears.

"That's Charlie. He's a good boy, isn't he?" My mom coos, running her thin fingers over the top of his head, "Girls, why don't you two go wash up and I'll warm up the food in the kitchen. Be back down in about thirty minutes, okay?"

"Alright momma. I'm gonna take a quick shower."

"Ughhh. You're gonna hog the bathroom already?" Hannah whines, throwing her head back in exaggeration.

Momma swats at Hannah's arms, shushing her, "Don't you start Hannah Marie, it's been fifteen years since your sister has been home and all you want to do is fight."

"Haha!" I laugh, pointing at Hannah and sticking out my tongue, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bathroom to hog!"

I turn and take off up the stairs with Hannah right on my heels. My mother smiles softly at the sight of her only two girls before turning toward the kitchen, Charlie right at her feet. After a ten minute shower, I open the bathroom door and pad towards my old room, wrapped in a towel. Hannah stands in the circular body mirror that stands in the corner, holding up one of my shirts to her chest.

"You can have it." I say, smiling at her as bend over to rummage through my bag to find a t-shirt and shorts.

She squeals and jumps on my bed, sitting Indian style as I pull my old Dallas Cowboys shirt over my head and pull a pair of gray shorts over my hips. I plop down next to her and she rests her head on my shoulder, "I've missed you sis."

"Aww," I giggle, "I've missed you too babe."

Hannah. My baby sister. She's five years younger than I and we couldn't be more opposite. She's wild and flaky where I'm tame and predictable. She barely got through high school, well several high schools and college couldn't have been further from her mind. She's a free spirit, like a leaf just floating through the air as the wind whips her from place to place. She's built small, her chocolate skin the exact same shade as mine. Her long, wildly curly, dark brown hair stops just inches above her shoulders, her dark orbs eying mine as she turns towards me, "Justin's here. He's been staying with his parents since Monday."

I try to seem unfazed at her statement, running my fingers through my hair and clearing my throat, nodding slowly, "Oh." Is all I can muster.

She shrugs slightly, "I just didn't want you to freak out if you ran into him or anything. Plus, Lynn might stop by tomorrow to drop off some cookies."

"She still makes those Christmas cookies? The sugar ones?" I ask, remembering the taste like I was literally biting into one right this moment.

She smiles, "Oh yeah, she does. Mom says she still stops by almost every week to just come and talk. Mom says Lynn still asks about you."

Silence falls over us as I begin to bite my lip, staring over at the mirror in the corner, "Is he with anybody?" I ask quietly, a few seconds later.

Hannah nods, pursing her lips a little, "Yeah. Harper Kerrington, Cameron's little sister."

A twinge of jealous pangs through me at the revelation, "Harper?" I ask, giving my sister a face.

She laughs a little, "We all said the same thing, believe you me. They've been together for a while now though, I think like three or four years. Hey, how's Tim?"

"Tom," I correct, rolling my eyes at the mention of him, "And he's fine. He's in Chicago. How's Kimberly?"

"Ugh, let's not talk about her." She snorts, rubbing her face harshly with her palm.

I laugh, "Oh my god, what happened now?"

"She's fucking crazy, that's what happened! I think I'm done with girls for a while, think I'm gonna find me a nice little boy to obsess over."

"You know that's what momma wants. She can't stand you dating girls Han."

"I know but I can't help what I like Aria. Every time I say I wanna be with a man, a gorgeous, blonde twenty something crosses my path and I'm putty in her hands."

We share another laugh and our mother's voice echoes through the old house, "Girls! Dinner!"

We both stand from the bed and head toward the stairs, where I stop Hannah momentarily, "Are you happy Hannah?" I ask suddenly as she whips around to face me.

She glances to the side, a little confused by my question, "Yeah, I think so." She laughs, cocking her head to the side, “Why?”

"Don't change a thing, okay? Just life your life, no regrets."

She lets out a breath and pulls me into a tight hug, knowing exactly what I'm thinking without me having to say a word, "It’s okay sissy. You can't blame yourself forever, you were a baby. You wanted to live your life, there's nothing wrong with that." She whispers into my ear, holding me tighter that I can ever remember she had before. She pulls back a few seconds later and runs her thumb across my cheek, "Come on, let’s eat."

She skips down the stairs and I follow closely, heading into the kitchen and plopping down at the table for the first family meal we've had in fifteen years. It feels good. I feel good. Maybe this is just what I needed. And maybe, just maybe, I'll be lucky enough to avoid Justin, Lynn and Paul all together and just be able to enjoy my mom and my sister for a few days.

I'm not that lucky though. Never have been, never will be.