She wants to know his secret. He hasn’t decided what it is yet. Is it something he senses, but can not picture? A past trauma he swore he would forget that constantly dwells in the depths of his tortured mind.

His dark eyes are pleading and his palms start to sweat. Perhaps he has so many secrets he can’t pick just one. “Tell me,” she whispers under her breath. He turns his face away from her ignoring the angst in her soft green eyes.

“I want to know you; the good and the bad.”

She grabs his face with both hands. He tries to pull away, but her grip is strong.

She wants to know his secret. It should be simple. He won’t speak a word. It appears the secret will never escape his lips.

She begins to walk away from him, but he grabs her hand. He pulls her in and kisses her softly. He finally speaks, “The only secret I’ll tell is that life without you would be empty.”