“Can you keep a secret?” Alex asks in the same hushed whisper. The boy nods enthusiastically, eyes wide with anticipation. Alex mimicks the boy’s earlier movements by looking to his left and then to his right before saying, “Yes.” He nods his head to the side, motioning for the kid to come even closer. Once he does, Alex pulls a pen from his pocket, careful to hide it from the view of the other kids. “This is my memory eraser. Now, I won’t use it on you to wipe away our little conversation if I can trust that you’ll keep that just between us. Can I trust you not to tell anyone?”

“I swear, I won’t tell a soul. I pinkie promise on it.” He holds his pinkie out to Alex who reciprocates the gesture and pinkie promises on their secret. I think my ovaries just exploded watching their exchange.

Alex stands up and ruffles the little boy’s head before looking up at me. “What?” he asks me.

I simply press my lips together and shake my head. “Nothing. Let’s go.” We lead the kids onto the bus where they ooh and aah, their eyes as wide as saucers. My cheeks hurt from the permanent smile attached to my face, but being able to make someone happy, even if it’s for something as simple as touring my home on wheels, feels amazing.

THE BUS SLOWLY pulls away from the clubhouse to make our way back to Cal. His interview should be wrapping up, then we’ll be on the road headed for our next stop. I’m not thinking about what’s next though because right now I’m on cloud nine. Today was actually an amazing day. It’s been a long time since I was able to let loose a little. Plus, the kids seemed to have fun and that makes me happy. Lounging back on the plush couch that runs down one side of the bus, I turn my head to look over at Alex who’s sitting in a reclining chair with his phone in his hand. He looks up from it when he notices me staring at him.

“What?” he asks hesitantly.

I shake my head slightly. “Nothing, just thinking about how good you were with those kids.”

“Right back atcha, LeBron.” I notice his mouth pull up into a half grin before I throw my head back and laugh.

“My basket was hardly LeBron status. Just a lucky shot, that’s all,” I say through the last bit of giggles.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Not everyone could make that shot with no warm up. Nice form by the way. Did you used to play?”

“For about a year in middle school.” Thinking about that year in school is a fond memory. It resembles a time where I could just be me. I didn’t have anyone expecting things from me. I didn’t have to worry about the way I looked. It was okay to be sweaty and dirty and to run around like crazy. It was okay to just be a kid. Not often, but every now and then I’ll think back to that time of my life and wish I could go back and start over. I’d savor what it’s like to be happy and enjoy life, and I wouldn’t let anyone or anything deter me from chasing that one simple thing.

Happiness.

Money doesn’t bring happiness. I’ve found that out the hard way. In fact, I was happiest when I was at my poorest. The poor-me was comfortable in her skin and confident in her abilities and self-worth. Wealthy-me . . . not so much. I’m not self-conscious or lack confidence, but hate the skin I’m in. I’ve created this fake exterior that lets people think so little of me, and along the way I’ve lost pieces of myself because of it. And the only person I have to blame for any of it, is myself.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, pulling me from my musings. “You look sad all of a sudden. Did I say something to upset you?” He searches my face like he so often does, looking for answers I’m not willing to give. It’s almost as if he sees right down to my soul.

“No, I’m fine. I must’ve zoned out for a second there.”

“Whatever you were thinking about obviously wasn’t making you happy, so let’s talk about something that does.”

I give him a small smile as a thank you for not digging into my foul mood. “Did you see the look on everyone’s face when they got on the bus? You would’ve thought I brought them to a magical kingdom or something.”

Looking around at our lavish surroundings, Alex says, “You kind of did. Have you looked at this thing? I’ve lived in apartments smaller than this.”

“Yeah, me too.” This brings a smile to my face. I remember my sophomore year of college living with two roommates in this disgusting house. Back then, it didn’t seem so bad. Now, I wouldn’t let a dog live in it. But we made the most of it and had a lot of fun.

“How old are you?” he asks. Hello, random.

I squint my eyes playfully at him. “I’m twenty-five and will forever remain twenty-five years old. Don’t you know not to ask a lady her age?”

Now it’s his turn to throw his head back and laugh before throwing his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I was just curious. You seemed to really enjoy being with all those kids and I was wondering if you saw yourself having any someday.”

And there goes my good mood. Do I want kids? Of course I do. I thought for sure I’d have at least one by now, but the universe intervened. I squirm in my seat, slightly uncomfortable with his super-personal questions. “Um, no. No kids for me.”

“You never want them?” Swallowing hard, all I’m able to do is shake my head. It’s a lie. I want kids more than anything at this point in my life, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy, and there will be hell to pay if anyone finds out why Cal and I haven’t had any children. Grace made that very clear. Alex stands up and walks across the aisle of the bus toward me. I can’t take my eyes off of him as he strides over and sits a mere inch from me. The smart part of my brain is telling me to put some distance between us. But the hungry part of my brain, the side that’s starving for attention and affection, tells me to stay put. That’s the side that wins out as I try to focus on breathing as his masculine scent assaults my nose and the heat radiating from his close proximity brings warmth to my whole body. “Elizabeth,” he says gently, “I’ve told you before, don’t bullshit me. You can’t lie for shit, especially to me.”

His statement stuns me a little. What, he doesn’t think I’m a good liar? I’m aware that lying is wrong and being good at it doesn’t make me a decent human being, but my whole life is built on a lie. I’ve faked and pretended my entire adulthood, fooling many in an attempt to be whatever wealthy man I was dating wanted me to be. How the hell can he see that I’m bullshitting when the man I’m married to can’t? “Uh, I—I was going to—,” I stammer, trying to explain before he cuts me off.

“If it’s something you don’t want to talk about, just say so. I won’t press the issue, but don’t feed me your carefully fabricated, practiced lines and expect me to fall for it. I see through you, sweetheart. I see through that ridiculous laugh you have in front of your friends, the stuffy clothes that make you uncomfortable, the way you brush off and allow dismissals and belittling insults thrown your way, but most importantly I see through this act that you’re okay with being treated like shit. You deserve better than that. There’s so much more to you than that pretty little face. There is a vibrant, fun, loving, smart woman hidden inside you. Set her free, Elizabeth.” His finger traces the shell of my ear as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind it. My lungs cease to take in air as I process what he’s just said to me. Crystal blues pierce my greens for what feels like an eternity. Neither of us says anything, just letting his words settle and sink in while this invisible current intensifies between us. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” I move to get up but he grabs my arm gently. “Please don’t, Alex.” I avoid looking at him, opting to focus on the wall in front of me instead. His grasp releases my arm and I continue on to the bathroom. Once I’m in there, I close the toilet seat and sit on it. As much as I try, I can’t stop the tears that fall from my eyes and run down my cheeks. Agitated by my overreaction, I quickly brush them from my cheeks.