The first time my husband ever raised his voice at me wasn't during an argument. It happened because I reached for one locked bedroom door, and by the end of that weekend, I understood why he'd been so afraid of that room.
When Derrick invited me to spend a week at his grandparents' lake house that summer, I couldn't have been more excited.
We'd been married for just three months.
Everything still felt new.
New routines.
New traditions.
New family.
"This is the trip," Derrick told me as we loaded our suitcases into the car.
"What trip?"
"The one where everyone finally gets to know you."
I smiled.
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