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“Keep going,” Thiago says.
“Okay,” I answer, thrilled to get the go ahead. I pick Gwen up by her ass and kiss her hard.
“No, no. Keep going back to your cabin,” he snaps.
“Right, that makes more sense,” Gwen tells me.
We burst out laughing and I carry her to my cabin and set her down so I can unlock the door. “Do you think we said anything embarrassing back there?” she asks me.
“No way,” I say, opening the door and lifting her up to carry her over the threshold. “I’m never going to change my mind about anything I said to you. In fact, I’m proud I said all those things because they’re true. I was speaking from my heart, and I never do that. Never. I only use my mind. But tonight, all heart. All truth.”
“I’m proud of you too, babe,” she says. “You’re so brave. My big, strong, brave Ty. I love you, Ty. I love you with every breath. With every heartbeat. I love you with every cell in my body.”
“That’s exactly how I feel about you,” I answer, setting her down gently. “Let’s make love all night and tomorrow morning, we’ll get married.”
“Yes, it’s going to be amazing,” she says, tugging my shirt over my head. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”
“And I can’t wait to be your husband,” I tell her, yanking her skirt off.
“We’re never going to change our minds because this is forever.”
“Yes, it is. Gwen and Ty forever.”
29
Truth, More Truth, and Even More Lies…
Gwen
He wants to marry me. My big, brave, strong Ty wants to spend every minute of every day with me. Mmm, the breeze from the fan feels so nice against my skin. Oh, and he’s down on his knees, kissing my stomach. No one has ever done that to me before, but I love it. Just like I love him. Imagine loving someone I spent so much time and energy hating. I run my hands through his dreamy hair, my heart feeling like it could explode. That’s how much love I have for him. Not hate at all.
Oh my God, I have to tell him the truth! Although, what he’s doing down there is completely distracting…
No, Gwen. Tell him!
“Wait!” I say, pulling back from him. “I can’t marry you until you know the truth about me.”
His eyes grow wide. “What?”
Don’t do it. He’s going to be so hurt and he’ll stop loving you. No, I have to. It’s the right thing to do. “It might make you hate me, but you deserve to know.” Gesturing to the bed, I say, “You might want to sit down.”
He gets up and walks over to the bed, taking a seat. Reaching out, he rests his hands on my hips. “I want you to know you can tell me anything.”
“Thank you, babe,” I say. “And I want you to know you can tell me anything too.”
“Thanks. Go ahead. Tell me. I’m ready.”
“Okay,” I say, my heart pounding. “Keep in mind, I didn’t know you until this week.”
“Gotcha.”
“Well, back home, in my job … I sort of used to—and I want you to know I’m never going to do it again, okay?”
“Okay…”
“But I used to print off photos of you and…”
“And draw nasty pictures on them, I know,” he says.
