Secrets Are Untold Lies

"Frank! What are you doing?" Jamia asked with a smile, desperately flinging her hands forward so she wouldn't trip on something or walk straight into the sharp furniture. "Just give me the surprise already!"

"Ah ah ah! Not just yet," her husband replied, securely holding her blindfold in front of her eyes as he gently guided her through their door. "I want this to be special." Frank closed the door softly behind them and dimmed the lights, glancing around the room once before finally being pleased with himself and dropping Jamia's blindfold.

The sight that met her eyes rendered Jamia absolutely speechless. The normal lights in their cabin were dimmed so low that Jamia barely realized they were even on. Frank had set up large incense candles of various sizes throughout the room that gave off a wonderful mix of apple cinnamon and French vanilla fragrances. There was a small table in between the bed and the dresser that was set for two, with a small bottle of wine chilling in a metal bucket filled with ice.

"Oh, Frank," Jamia said, bringing her right hand to cup her cheek. "This is so sweet and so cliché. I love it. I love you." She turned around to face her husband, a large smile adorning both of their features.

"I love you too, Mrs. Nestor-Iero. That's why I figured that on the first night of our honeymoon on this lovely Caribbean cruise that we would have a romantic dinner in." Frank kissed Jamia softly and pulled away with a cocky grin on his face. "Now, let us dine!"

Jamia giggled as Frank grabbed her hand and led her towards the small table. Frank pulled back Jamia's chair for her as she sat down and went over to the kitchenette area to grab their food.

"Please don't tell me you cooked this, babe,"

"As a matter of fact," Frank said playfully, grabbing two full plates of fettuccine alfredo pasta from the counter and carrying them carefully over to where Jamia sat patiently. "I followed all of the directions from this old cookbook I found to a tee. I didn't get terribly distracted and didn't leave the kitchen till it was done. I'm rather pleased, I didn't fuck up cooking for once."

Jamia grinned. "Aw, baby, that's what you were doing today that was so secretive you had to shoo me out of the whole cabin area?"

Frank set Jamia's plate down in front of her before sitting down with his own plate of pasta. "Yeah, I didn't want you to know anything about this surprise. I even got in with the guard outside the cabin doors to not let you back in here unless I was with you." He grinned, looking up at Jamia with an adoring look on his face as he noticed Jamia was staring at his food in awe.

"Frankie...this looks delicious. You really cooked it well." Jamia exclaimed, grabbing her fork and twisting it around the noodles to pick up as many as possible.

Smiling as wide as he possible could, Frank copied Jamia's actions and took a bite of his pasta. "Thanks, honey bun."

They ate slowly, savoring the taste of the unburned food. Frank made light conversation with his wife while Jamia continually praised him on how well he cooked the food, and how she'll expect him to cook like this from now on. At some point during the dinner, Frank uncorked the bottle of wine, poured a fair amount in each of their glasses, and made a toast.

"To a long and happy life together," Frank said, raising his glass above the candles and looking at Jamia lovingly.

Jamia flinched nervously, her secret flooding back into her mind and filling her with a suffocating dread. She hoped Frank didn't notice her sudden movement, and quickly covered it up with an enthused raising of her glass and a happy, "To a long and happy life together."

Their glasses clinked, the newlyweds staring into each others eyes as they took their sips. Though, of course, Jamia was really the only one to take a sip; Frank downed his entire glass while staring at Jamia and laughing lightheartedly.

"Oh, Frank..." Jamia said as she finished her pasta, pushing her plate closer to the middle of the table. "This was so romantic. I can't believe you'd do all this for me."

"I'd do anything for you, Jamia. As long as I got to see you smile," Frank said rather cheesily, getting up and taking her plate along with his back to the kitchenette.

Jamia snorted, but smiled largely all the same. "You're such a sappy romantic."

"I know," Frank replied with his ever-present smile as he placed the dinner plates gently in the sink. "Now, I know you don't like fucking in weird places, so how about a heavy make out session before we pass out on our bed from exhaustion?"

Frank made his way over to Jamia in a swagger which he hoped was sexy. He seductively placed his hands on the back of Jamia's chair, right next to her head, forming a small wall around her.

Leaning up and kissing his lips softly, Jamia murmured, "That'd be amazing."

***

That night, when Frank had "passed out from exhaustion" after they kissed and groped for quite some time, Jamia lay awake. On her back and staring up at the slightly textured ceiling, she thought about what was normally plaguing her mind lately - the one thing she kept secret from Frank.

The previous day had been astounding to Jamia. They arrived on the boat at ten o'clock in the morning, the first few people to board. After just nicely getting settled into their cabin suite, Frank had shooed her away with a schedule of everything he set up for her on the cruise and told her to not come back to the cabin until everything on that list was done. Jamia was, expectedly, suspicious of what Frank had in store. But after she had gone to get a manicure, a pedicure, and a full-body massage at the spa, she soon forgot about her new husband's odd behavior.

She then went mini-golfing, rock-climbing, and went into the ship's large bookstore for a little while, scanning the backs of books and magazines. Jamia had fun, of course, but she would have much rather done these things with Frank, and was about to tell him so until she saw him standing at the door to the cabin area talking with the guard. Upon approaching the pair, Jamia was swept up in a loving kiss from Frank and subsequently blindfolded and led into their room, where she saw what an amazing man she had married.

But that thought, no matter how much she tried to deny it, scared her. Frank was loving, kind, and generous. He would do anything for her - he said it himself! Jamia knew he was joking around when he said it, but she also knew that he was being dead-serious as well. Frank had that way about him, to say something humorously but mean every word. So what would happen when Jamia told him what a horrible and selfish person she was, taking into account only her feelings and forgetting about everyone else's?

Jamia sighed as she turned over, now facing away from Frank. Would she even have the guts to tell him in the first place? It took a miracle that she was able to tell her mother - though her being more drunk than she ever had in her life probably had a bit to do with her secret spilling out of her mouth like vomit would eventually. Her mother told her father, and the three of them had a serious, gut-wrenching talk in the living room where Jamia wouldn't stop crying. After a few hours, Jamia had completely dehydrated herself to the point where she couldn't cry anymore, and after a few glasses of water they all calmly figured out what the best plan of action was.

Her mother was kind and understanding, always the empathetic one in the family who kept telling Jamia that she "did what was right, there's nothing to be ashamed of" even though Jamia was very ashamed of herself and felt that what she had done was inexcusable. Her father, strong and slightly overbearing, was disappointed in his daughter but fully backed her decisions.

Now Jamia, laying awake in a strange bed next to her best friend and newlywed husband Frank, was scared once again of spilling her secret. Because she had been drunk when she told it last, she had sworn off alcohol all together. To make things seem less suspicious, she decided to become completely straight-edge and a vegetarian. But Jamia wished that maybe she hadn't given up alcohol, just so she could be able to get drunk and tell Frank all about what she did, because she sure as hell didn't have the courage to tell him now while sober.

She started to cry, small tears trickling across her cheek and staining the pillow. There was no sobbing, not even the slightest movement of her body. Just droplets of water cascading down pale skin and soaking into the soft material of a pillow.