Page 122 of Insta Bride
“It’s a little bit unconventional the way you two met,” she said. “Don’t tell Dev, but I watched the show when the guys were rehearsing.”
“And?”
“I think the two of you were the last to realise you were the real deal.”
“I didn’t see it coming.”
“I know how that feels.” She nodded towards the three-story mansion, sounds of guitar and laughter following us down the driveway. “One of these days, you should ask Dev how we all met. I’d prefer you get the censored version about the pool competition.”
“I don’t think I want to know.”
“Oh, it’s a good story, but the moral is that love doesn’t need to be conventional to be real. Go, get your girl.”
“How?”
“Trust Devon.” She shrugged as if for her it was a given. “He heard what you had to say, he understands about complicated love. He’ll do right by you.”
“What does that even mean? I mean, what can he do? Elena isn’t even talking to me.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’ve got few ideas.”
“I’m still under the NDA until after the commitment ceremony.”
“You might be, but I’m not. Neither are my guys. Go home to your girl and trust us.”
The night before the final ceremony, Bree and her team had us back under their complete control. The last ten couples had been bought back together to film a reunion show and then the final commitment ceremony.
The Australian voting public would have until the end of the reunion show to cast their votes. There’d only be half an hour break before the final commitment ceremony would be streamed live.
Bree’s finest hour was not going to be ruined by any of her talent going rogue.
We were given our individual schedules—broken down into ten-minute increments for the final twenty-four hours, and two-minute increments during recording. I kid you not—even though the reunion show was intended to be a live show a spontaneous coming together of old friends and foes, Bree had planned it to the enth degree.
The production company had put us into different motels the guys in one the girls in another. Apparently, separating us for 24 hours would make the reunion more newsworthy. We’d been told what time to arrive, what to say and what to wear.
We even had a dress rehearsal to go through every eventuality.
Benjamin’s acceptance speech made me want to throw up.
The thought of losing Elena made me want to—cry.
I’d heard the demo before it had been unleashed on the world.
The Flying Monkeys had become Australia’s favorite home-grown rock sensation and were quickly taking on the world. Xavier Galis’ older brother might have opened the door to stardom. After all, Stormy Waters had become an institution. Generations had lost their virginity to Be Still.
I still couldn’t come to terms that the un-buff nerd I’d met in Army Cadets had become the coolest keyboardist for the hottest band.
Devon Scott saving my marriage? I’d have bet my life on that never happening. Yet, here we were.
The morning of the last day of this crazy competition. In fourteen hours, the votes would be electronically counted and either Benjamin and Kenzie or Elena and I would walk away with the cash.
Months ago, it had been the only thing that mattered.
Today? I had fourteen hours to save my marriage.
Dev: Six am baby. Cue the tears.
Whose tears? Mine? Elena’s?