He wanted me to choose him in that guesthouse. He wanted me. And I wanted him to know I had to make an impossible choice. But in my head, tucked away where I kept my secrets, it would always be him. Ten years . . . twenty years down the road I would watch him from a distance and see him build his life and be happy if he was happy. I wanted him to know I loved our foreplay. I wanted him to know I loved him.
