The Masks We Wear

"Very okay," he said. "You okay?"

"I am. Y'all made a mess up in there, though."

Célia giggled and Destry laughed. "I did warn them at the desk," he said. "They were... sympathetic. When I told the guy he was like, 'Is she the smoking hot black girl'?"

We laughed. "Well, I'm hungry. What about you two?"

They were and we had dinner at the hotel. They stayed three days, and Célia went back to Newark with me while Destry went back to Canada.

It was time for the "Célia Line" of bags to roll out, and I took her in for a week of shoots. I knew she was going to be very photogenic, but I was unprepared for just how stunning she was. She never wore makeup, and she really didn't need any, but when she was made up, hair styled, those blue eyes popping in contrast with that olive skin and dark hair, I knew she had a big future in modeling if that's what she wanted.

She had a blast, Destry flew in for two days and my condo was invaded. Mom and Dad were in love with Célia, and tried to kidnap her whenever they had a chance. Jack and Linda practically lived with us, and Destry's friends, Patton and Reyes, met us in Denver after Célia's modeling debut for a week of skiing.

Reyes was as awesome as ever, and I could tell we were going to be very good friends. Patton was back on the rodeo tour, and I wondered if Destry missed it.

We were cuddling in bed and I asked him. "Not that much," he said. "I liked performing, you know, the roar of the crowd and all, but I don't want to do it again." He reached down and cupped my ass in his big hands. "I've got something else to wrestle."

I rubbed myself on his thigh. "Do you think you'll win?"

"God, I hope so," he said, fingers sinking into my cheeks. "You have the most fantastic ass, Simone."

I giggled and flexed it. "Yeah, and it's kinda sore. I haven't skied in a while."

He laughed. "No, me either. I'm sore all over. I think I fell a hundred times. Célia is good! Who knew we'd have a ski bum on our hands?"

Rick and Chelsea flew home in July and we lost Célia for two weeks. The house seemed kind of empty, but I got involved helping Destry with the wheat harvest, and time flew.

Célia's bags hit stores, and they sold beyond anything I had expected. They became the rage for teenage girls, and I was getting pressure for new designs. That took me back to Newark and New York City for the remaining time her parents were home, and I hardly had time to miss her.

I did make it back to Winnipeg in time to have a long talk with Destry, Rick and Chelsea. Rick was too good at his job, and they wanted him to stay another six months. They were both depressed and excited about that, but wanted us to keep Célia. We both agreed, and they were back in Russia.

Destry and I were getting closer and closer. I came to hate every minute we were apart. I would see something, hear something, and know he would enjoy it as much as I did. I couldn't wait to tell him, and we had quite a Snapchat streak going. I found myself confiding in him in a way I never had anyone other than my sweet mother.

He was a hugely romantic guy. I got little things from him constantly, from coffee cups, lingerie and shoes, to flowers and candy. I was completely and totally in love with the man, and he seemed to be just as connected to me.

I flew to Canada from Los Angeles, and he seemed a little... off when he picked me up. Célia seemed a little weird, too, when we got back to the house. They were both just as loving as ever, but there was something going on. It was like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

On Sunday afternoon, Célia went outside and Destry came into the kitchen where I was pouring myself a glass of pomegranate juice. He pressed me up against the countertop, wrapped me up in his arms from behind and slid his hands up under my shirt to cup my tiddies. I squirmed them deeper into his hands and moaned a little. "You starting something here, big boy?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, but can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Hours, if you want," I said.

"I don't think it will take hours," he said. "Well, on the other hand... Let's go sit down." I followed him and he sank down into a big comfy chair, pulling me down on his lap. I snuggled in and looked up at him expectantly.

"This seems serious," I mentioned.

"Yeah, kinda. Simone, we've been together what, almost two years?"

"I have no idea," I said. "Seems like forever, to me."

He laughed. "I know what you mean. It's hard for me to remember before I had a dusky goddess in my life."

"Me too." I nodded and my hair tickled his nose, causing him to rub it with a grin. "I did a bunch of trivial shit, then I met you, I almost didn't."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I was this close to walking out on Jack and Linda that evening when we met," I said. "You were like the 10th guy they tried to hook me up with, and it was mad annoying."

He threw back his head and laughed. "I can imagine. Tell me, Babes, where do you see us in five years?"

"The fuck? What kind of a question is that?" I snorted. "I barely know where I am right now."

"One I hope you'll answer," he said.

"Well, hell, right here would be good," I said.

"In this chair?"

"Well, we might get a new one. This one will prolly be worn out by then."

He chuckled. "You and me, right here?"

"Yep. I like it here. You aren't getting rid of me," I said.

"I have no intention of 'getting rid of you'," he said. "In fact, I plan to keep you the rest of our lives." He got a serious look on his face. "Simone, will you marry me?"

I looked up and into his eyes. "Oh my God! Really?"

"I think you know I love you as much as it's possible for one person to love another," he said. "God, Simone, you're everything to me. You're an enchanting little gypsy, and I love everything about you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Does Célia know," I asked.

"Yes, she's 'giving us some space'."

"Would you be really disappointed if I said no?" I asked.

"I'll be very disappointed," he said. "Are you saying no?"

"Not exactly," I said. "Can I explain, just tell you my heart?"

"I don't understand 'Not exactly,' but yes. Explain, please."

"I love you, Des, never doubt that. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too, but... marriage didn't exactly work out for me... the last time... you know."

"Yes, I do know," he said. "Do you think marrying me would be anything like that?"

"Noo, that's not what I'm saying, at all," I hurried to say. "Damn, I'm having a hard time here, Des. I'm telling you that I think what we have now is perfect. I love you, you love me, we're together, committed. There will never be anyone else for me, forever and as long as you want me. I just... I'm afraid I'll fuck it up."

For some reason I burst out crying. He held me tightly, taking my juice and setting it on the table beside the chair before I spilled it.

He kissed me and whispered. "Tell me, Simone."

I could hardly speak. "I... I just... I don't know, Des. I tried so hard. I loved Reuben, and I tried so hard. I don't know what I did... I'm so afraid I'll do it again, by accident, and... lose you."

"I see. I understand now. You amaze me, Simone. Just when I think I know you, you show me something else. Let me tell you this: I don't think you did anything wrong. He was an asshole. He was an insane asshole. He risked losing you, and for what? He had the gold ring and he wanted a shot at the brass. He was fucking nuts."

I sniffed. "I need a tissue."

He handed me the box off the table I hadn't seen. "I see what the rest of the world sees in you, Simone. I see an incredibly confident woman. You're off the charts smart, funny and the most exciting person I've ever met. You're the complete package, and the most sensual woman I've ever seen. You light up every room you're in, and people can't take their eyes off you."

I snuggled in. "Tell me more."

He laughed. "Yeah, and the most conceited. What I've only just realized is that you're as human as the rest of us. Do you remember when I asked you out and you told me I wasn't your type?"

I kissed his neck. "Yes. Sorry about that, Des. You are obviously just my type."

"I felt like I was in high school again and my crush had just turned me down for a date to the prom. I wanted to get to know you so badly, and you were just like, "No, white boy." I was crushed. But I didn't let that stop me."

"I'm so glad you didn't," I said.

He kissed my forehead. "Me too. I know now that you're no different," he said. "Down inside you there's that scared girl, too. You're afraid, just like the rest of us, and no one knows. You let me see inside."

"I don't let many see inside," I told him. "You, my parents, Célia, Linda, that's about it. I keep my tribe small, Des."

"I know. But that makes me love you even more," he said. "Simone, if you're afraid, I understand. I don't think you did a single thing wrong. Not a thing. I do understand, though. I'll wait until you aren't afraid anymore. I'll love you and keep your heart safe as long as you let me. You aren't going to lose me."

I felt overwhelmed, like I needed to breathe and couldn't, like every emotion I had was running wild, like I needed to laugh, cry and run around and dance. I sat up, straddled his legs and crushed myself to him, kissing him, over and over.

"Yes, Des. Yes. I'll marry you. You don't have to wait. I'm trusting you, and myself." I held up my left hand between us and wiggled my finger. "Uh-oh. Something is missing."

"Hold on a second." He got out his phone and sent a Snap.

In a minute, the back door slid open and Célia came in. She flew across the room and threw herself on us, laughing and crying.

Destry finally got her calmed down enough to listen. "Célia, you have something..."

"Oh, yeah!" She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a grey velvet box, handing it to Destry.

He opened it and pulled out a gold ring with diamonds surrounding one big emerald. He slipped it on my finger and kissed my hand.

"She said yes, Célia," he said. "She said yes!"

I looked at them both, wide-eyed and glowing with their love for me. There were no masks on those faces.