Despite all of our hard work on our gingerbread house and how amazing it actually turned out, Sophie and Charlotte won along with Lucas and Annie. While their house was structurally good because of Annie and Lucas, the decoration was a mess from the girls. Sprinkles everywhere, candy canes, dots, gummy bears and worms just laying around covered in icing.

I couldn't even be disappointed that they won by the looks of their faces when my mom pulled out two stuffed reindeer animals; their faces were priceless. It was clear my mom planned on picking them from the beginning. But none of us went empty handed for our effort.

All four of us got bags of candied almonds. Not as great as the reindeers but better than nothing. The only person who seemed upset about losing was Jackson. When he heard Sophie and Charlottes names he made a sound like he had been shot. Then preceded to tell my mom she made a horrible mistake.

He took her by the hand and showed her every details of his and Olivia's house, trying to get her to reserve her decision. It was actually comical and in the end my mom still stuck with her two granddaughters as the winners.

Because it took us so long to clean up the mess of gingerbread houses we ended up ordering pizza. Ever since the little scene with Knox earlier I've kept my distance from him, more mad at myself than anything else. I didn't want anyone to notice so I kept a smile plastered on my face.

By time dinner was done and Lucas and Annie left I was just as tired as the two sleeping girls in their arms. It had been a busy day and adding a slight panic attack earlier about my dad...I felt drained.

So while the others were inside talking I was outside on the porch swing clearing my head. The cold weather nipped at my face but I didn't mind it. My phone sat in my lap buzzing with text messages from both Leah and Oliver. Both of their parents were now in town for Christmas and they were already driving Leah nuts. She still had no clue the reason they were all there was for Oliver's proposal on Christmas day.

While I listened to Leah rant about her in laws, I was also texting Oliver to see how everything was coming with the proposal. I could hardly contain my excitement for my best friend. She deserved a guy like Oliver who treated her like a Queen. I was a bit bummed I wasn't going to be there but at least I would still see the videos.

As a slight breeze picked up I wrapped my fluffy blanket tighter around me and huddled tighter in my sweater. It may have been cold but I wasn't quite ready to go inside yet.

I knew coming home would be hard, especially on the holiday my dad loved so much. I just hadn't expected to be hit so hard by it earlier. But that's the thing about sadness, sometimes it just sneaks up on you without warning.

"Hey." My head snapped to the side to find Knox stepping through the doorway, two mugs in his hands. "Care if I join you?" A tiny part of me wanted to say no and be alone but instead I nodded and scooted over a bit.

"Your mom made hot chocolate." He extended one of my favorite mugs towards me. Smiling I gladly took it and let the warmth seep into my hands. The swing wobbled as he took a seat, his huge frame taking up most of the room. With one hand I grabbed some of the blanket and put it over his lap and scooted a tad bit closer. My left side was basically pressed against his.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything as we sipped our hot chocolate.

"You've been quiet." Knox said a moment later.

"Just tired." I shrugged, keeping my gaze straight ahead.

"I get them too you know." He said it casually but I caught the slight bite to his voice. Confused I glanced over at him. He was looking ahead but his jaw was clenched. From where I was sitting I could see the muscle twitching.

"Get what?" My voice was soft as I asked.

"Panic attacks."

I froze at his words. I knew he noticed that something was wrong earlier, I just didn't realize how much he noticed. No one knows that I get them sometimes, not even Leah knows. It doesn't happen often and only when I think too hard about my dad. If I think about everything he is missing out on, what I'll do if ever need him to come fix something at my place, what my mom will do without him, how my brothers are coping.

Whenever I let those fears seep in then the panic grabs hold. Even if they aren't super big ones they are emotionally draining.

"I know the signs when I saw you in the kitchen earlier." He spoke when I still didn't say anything. I licked my lips not entirely sure what to say.

"It was just a small one." I finally found my voice but it came out small.

"Do you get them a lot?" I felt his eyes on me as I stared down into my mug.

"Not too often. They started after my dad died." Knox was quiet as my words hung between us. For some reason I felt a tad bit lighter knowing that someone else knew. Like I had been carrying this weight on my shoulders I didn't know I had.

"Mine come and go." His words surprised me. The last thing I expected was for Knox to share anything with me, let alone something this personal.

"Are they bad ones?" I asked softly. I watched as his jaw muscles twitched and his hand clenched around his mug.

"Sometimes."

I wasn't sure if it was the quietness around us, the fact that no one was around to hear us, or the sense of openness between us but I found myself asking.

"What are they usually about?"

Knox was quiet for a few minutes still staring straight ahead at the dark night. I was fairly certain he wasn't going to answer and I wasn't going to force it out of him either. It probably wasn't my place to ask such a question anyways.

"War." Came his response. His answer shouldn't have hit me as hard as it did. I couldn't imagine the things Knox had done, had seen while in the Marines. "Its apart of PTSD they say." He said it with a shrug like it didn't mean anything but I could tell it did.

I could see that he hated everything about it; at having PTSD, at having panic attacks. Knox was a man of control and with those you don't have it.

I found myself reaching out and unclasped his clenched fist. I gently slid mine into his, intertwining our fingers. Neither of us wanted to talk anymore of the subject. So we didn't.

We didn't say another word as we sat there on the porch in the cold air. Or when the two of us went inside holding hands and headed upstairs to go to bed.

We didn't say a word when Knox woke me up late in the night thrashing in the bed while muttering under his breath. Not as I shook him awake and rubbed my hands down his arms until he relaxed and fell back asleep.

And neither of us said anything when we woke up the next morning tangled up once more.