Page 132 of Insta Bride
“Or—” I had to know.
“You’d both crash, which has made excellent ratings.”
“I don’t want to wear a wedding dress.”
“I’m hearing a but.”
“I don’t want to wear any of these dresses, either.”
I stared Bree down. I was the talent she needed to get on camera. For these few moments, I had power.
“What would make you happy?” She eventually asked and I described what I wanted.
I pulled up the show sponsor’s catalogue and pointed to my choice. “That one.”
“Really?” Bree wasn’t amused or excited. Too bad. “Are you sure?”
“Well, it’s either that or I’m walking out in my lingerie. Your ratings might go through the roof, but it wouldn’t be suitable for the timeslot.
“Let me make some phone calls,” Bree said, already dialling a number.
“And Bree,” I said, giving her my, just between us girls, look that Olivia had perfected. “Don’t tell Kye and please don’t tell Kenzie.”
“Yeah.” Bree put down her phone. “Look, Elena, I’m not supposed to say anything. We can’t prove anything but we think those photos were fake.”
“Oh. I know they were fake.”
Kye had told his friend Devon his secret. Devon had told Sydney and Sydney had decided to share it with me. I’d spent hours online, blowing up each of the offending images and comparing them against recent ones that I knew were of Kye. The marauding vine on the Island had left a small scar above his eyebrow. None of the photos before we’d gotten together had the scar. All the ones after, did.
“I believe Kye,” I said, deciding to trust Bree. “I should have always believed Kye, but we’d always let other people get between us.
“And, Kye should have put Maddox in his place. You should have trusted him. The whole tape will be published tomorrow.”
“You’ve got the whole tape?”
“Yeah, I wanted to leak it the day after, but got overruled.”
“Can I hear it?”
“Will it make a difference?”
I thought, before asking, “Am I doing the smart thing?”
“No,” Bree laughed, pulling me into a hug. It felt strange, this woman had slept with the man I loved. But if she didn’t hold a grudge, why should I? “But there’s nothing smart about marrying Kye and you only have to look at social media to know why. He attracts women, but in the last seven months, he’s learned to say no. The two of you fit together. When you fight, we just want to throw you into a bedroom to sort it out. When he looks at you, the two of you just blow up the world. Kye isn’t the smart choice, unless the woman is you.”
With the magic of television dollars and promotion, my dress was delivered in less than an hour.
It was perfect. It fit perfectly.
My hair was perfect.
Even my makeup looked perfect and for once, I didn’t care how stunning or gorgeous the other women were. I didn’t care who else would be on the stage, other than my husband.
As the rest of Australia watched the live broadcast, so did I. They’d set each of us up in a private dressing room with bottled water, a dozen different types of wine and flavored vodka, and our thoughts.
I tried to stay calm while watching all the other couples dissect Benjamin and Kenzie’s relationship. Then they turned to Kye and I. Each person had their own opinion on why we were perfect, or imperfect together. I tried not to be offended on behalf of my husband, but where he was called a media whore who would do anything for his moment in the sun, I screamed at the table.
No one had taken the time to get to know Kye.