Chapter 1 I hate it. It's the first thought that comes to mind when I look up at my new house--the house we built. But when Aaron walks up beside me, extends his arm across my back, and pulls me close to his barrel chest, I lie. "Everything we ever dreamed of, eh?" he asks. I just nod slowly. The last thing I want to do is ruin this moment for him. Not after he spent a year diligently working with the contractors building our "dream home." He's had a lot on his plate this past year: starting the new job, traveling back and forth from his downtown office in Tribeca to his new high-rise office in Nashville, managing the build, while also remaining a present husband and father.

He did everything I asked him to do with the house, and yet . I hate it. I can sense my eyes begin to water, a familiar sensation lately. But again, I don't want to ruin this moment for Aaron--I ruin so many moments lately--so I tell myself to shake it off. Wait for a moment when I'm alone. "Need help with those books?" I turn and look up at him with a blank stare, then I follow his gaze to the basket of books at my feet. "Sure. There are more baskets in the trunk.

" I pick up the basket, set it on my hip, and take a long, deep breath before walking up the steps and into the house. The basket belongs in the square-shaped room to the right of the front door. I put the basket down and slowly walk the perimeter of the foyer. There's a grand staircase in the center, a hall bath just past that, and the kitchen peeking out in the background, but I'm not ready to walk back there yet. Aaron walks in with two more wire baskets of books. "Is this room going to be big enough for all your books?" he asks me with a wide smile, soft wrinkles forming around his eyes. His face is so sweet, so earnest and honest. I want so badly to return his warmth, but my chest feels heavier with every passing second I spend in this home.

"It'll be great," I manage to get out with a half smile. There's so much for me to be excited about. I'm standing in my own library, for goodness's sake. The day Aaron showed me the blueprints for this home, he also handed me a wrapped gift in the shape of a rectangle. It was obviously a hardcover book, but I feigned surprise anyway. The book was Isabel Allende's most recent release--he knows how much I love her novels. "There's a special place in our new home where you can put your Allende collection on display," he said to me as he unrolled the blueprints and pointed to a square-shaped room by the front door. "A library?" I asked, my heart picking up speed, my legs feeling tingly, my smile stretching to my ears.

He nodded, and all I could think to do was throw my arms around his neck. I'd always dreamed of having a library in my home, complete with a system I could use to keep track of friends and family who borrowed my treasures. From the moment I met him, Aaron has been in the business of making my dreams come true. But now I'm not so easy to please. Now grief is a more familiar friend than he.