Everyone has their secrets. Some are bigger than others. Take Ares, your husband of three years, for example. He was once part of the cartel. However, he faked his death, changed his name, and came to America. Then he lied to you about everything. His name, his age, his hometown, even his childhood stories.

Upon finding out that the man you'd fallen in love with was basically a compulsive liar, you'd taken your daughter, Marisol, and left. However, you couldn't stay away from Ares. So you found yourself in his living room once again.

Ares sat across from you. His hands were in his lap. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I should've told you sooner."