be and protects.'
I laughed. 'You're making it up.'
'You don't have to believe me,' he said with a shrug, 'but it's still what you are.'
A few minutes later we pulled into Mom's driveway and I suddenly felt apprehensive. I wasn't sure how she'd react. After everything came out in the open and then Tristan spent so much time with us, she had finally accepted him as a key part of my life. I thought she might almost love him like a son. But I wasn't sure and I didn't know if she'd be happy with my being engaged already, especially at nineteen. I sat on the motorcycle and stared at the lit-up cottage.
'Relax, my love,' Tristan said. 'She already knows.'
'She does ?'
He shrugged. 'I had to discuss it with her first. There's all that other stuff that can get in the way.'
'Oh, yeah. We're kind of like a really twisted Romeo and Juliet, huh?'
'I've thought about that. But there's a big difference. Your family supports us.'
Mom waited expectantly, already in the foyer when we opened the door.
'So…can I see?' she asked, skipping any preliminaries. I held my left hand out for her. She inhaled sharply. 'Nice job, Tristan. I'm impressed.'
He grinned.
She looked at me. 'You will finish this book first. And you will finish college.'
'I'll definitely finish the book first. And I'll finish college, but probably not before we get married.' I glanced at Tristan and I knew he was also thinking about our deal because he winked at me.
I'd never imagined it possible to be so happy. It lasted about a month. Then the subjects of sex and trust came up again and it was a devastating turning point. We both seemed to have a blockage with Tristan seeing me naked. I lay on his boxy leather couch in just my bra and panties, while he paced the semi-dark room. He wasn't trying to regain control—the fire was already gone. Something else was wrong. I pushed him off this time as he started to unhook my bra. I felt a loss of control and something deep inside hit the panic button. I sat up and pulled my shirt and shorts on.
He finally came over and knelt in front of me, looking into my eyes.
'I was getting close, but I think that was you this time,' he said quietly.
'I know,' I admitted, hanging my head. 'I'm sorry.'
'You don't trust me nearly as much as you think you do,' he said flatly, as if it was fact.
I looked up at him. 'No, Tristan, that's not it. I know you won't hurt me.'
'That's not what I mean. You still have a shell, even for me.'
'What do you mean?' I thought we'd overcome that. I'd opened myself up and let him in. He knew more about me than anyone, even my own mother…and, apparently, more than I knew myself….
'You let me in to a certain point, but you're still protecting your most vulnerable areas.'
I knew the confusion showed in my eyes as I stared into his.
'You won't let me read your book,' he pointed out.
'If it gets published, I don't have a choice. You can just go buy it.' I tried to smile. He remained serious and my smile disappeared.
'Don't you love me?'
'Of course! More than anything.'
'But not enough to share something so important to you.'
I sighed. How'd we get on the subject of my book? 'You wouldn't even like it.'
'And you're making that decision for me?'
'Tristan, it's about a witch and a werewolf and their unlikely romance and magic and myths—the stuff you laugh at me about.'
'I don't laugh at you.' He scowled. 'I just don't understand your fascination with them.'
'And I don't understand your fascination with numbers and angles and the lines of a building.'
'But you like the finished product.' He waved his hand toward the house models. 'I would like to see your finished product.'
I sighed again. He had a point. 'It's not even a finished product. It's just a draft. It needs revisions, holes in the plot need filling…'
'I don't care . It's important to you, so it's important to me. Why can't you share it?' He studied my face, his eyes filled with sadness. 'Why can't you share yourself? Even if I'm not there yet, I thought you would want to be with me by now. But you don't.'
The pain and rejection in his voice felt like daggers in my heart.
'Tristan, we both need more time. We'll get there.'
'But why , Alexis? Why do you need more time?'
'I don't know,' I whispered honestly.
'I do know. You're still protecting yourself, protecting those most personal, intimate parts. You won't let me read your book. You stop me from enjoying your body, even when I can go further. Why can't you give yourself fully to me yet?'
I sighed sadly, leaned over and pressed my forehead to my knees.
'You still don't trust me,' he answered himself.
The words burned my ears and tears stung my eyes as I realized he was right. I was willing to give him the rest of my life, but I couldn't give him all of me .
'Tristan…,' I mumbled into my thighs.
He sighed heavily, sadly. 'You don't need to say anything, Alexis. I get it. You love me…just not completely.'
I sat up and saw the pain written all over his face. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
'Tristan, please…,' I whispered. 'I do love you, more than…'
'Just stop, Alexis. I know you love me. But stop lying to us both about how much. Don't even say it until you can completely trust me with everything . Otherwise, it's not the same love I have for you.'
He stood up and strode over to the wall of windows, staring out at the darkness spanning to the horizon. I leaned back over my thighs and cried into them for several minutes.
'Do you want your ring back?' I asked, choking on the words.
He was on his knees in front of me in a flash.
'Is that what you want ?' His voice cracked with pain on the last word.
' No! ' I cried.
He cupped the side of my face in his hand. 'Then it is yours always, just as my heart is. I just hope, one day, I will have yours…all of it.'
Chapter 15
After that critical night, our relationship felt fragile and brittle, like it would shatter from the least bit of pressure. We spent time with each other every day, but not as much and conversation felt superficial, sometimes even forced. Sex wasn't even an issue because we didn't even try. I missed the emotional and physical closeness and berated myself for not letting him completely in, but I didn't know what to do to knock that wall down. I questioned just how much I did love him and if it would ever be enough to completely trust him. If I was even capable of loving that much.
I thought maybe it was just my self-image and fantasized about the Ang'dora , hoping I'd become as gorgeous as Mom. And a better match for Tristan.
'Mom, when will I change…become like you?' I asked one night when we were alone, putting my textbook to the side. We had more of those alone nights lately. I could feel Tristan pulling away out of pain and I couldn't seem to pull him back.
She shrugged and put her own book down. 'It's been different for all of us. It seems we must experience a
