Page 133 of Insta Bride

They didn’t know his intelligence, or his humor.

The men had made up their mind the moment their women noticed Kye. Each of the women, other than Staci, had made a play for Kye. All their men knew it, and hated Kye.

I guess, I’d judged him as well. Only Staci, Darnelia, Randi and I had stayed in contact after the island. Staci had tried to make me see sense, remind me to take a deep breath. Staci told me the best things in life weren’t free—sometimes the price was eating humble pie.

Sometimes it was learning to trust.

Watching eight couples trash on my marriage, I couldn’t wait to have my say.

An Australian Love Story

Elena

“It’s time.”

I heard Bree’s distinctive voice in my ear. “Are you ready?” she added.

“Are you,” I asked, knowing that she could hear me through the microphone that had been a nightmare to place.

“Kye is going to shit himself.”

“Well, that would make everything awkward,” I laughed, knowing how much my man loved to be in control, and how much I loved taking it away from him. “Is he wearing what I told you?”

“Yes, Ms. Diva. He’s wearing the same white shirt and boring beige trousers he wore at the mixer.”

“You mean the same boring trousers that had all the women pick him as their first or second choice date?”

“I’ll tell you the same as I told Kenzie. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I said almost automatically. I sucked in my flat stomach and smoothed down the dress.

Two twirls in the full-length mirror and then I fluffed my hair one last time.

All the gold fleck made my tan shine, and my natural style make up hadn’t been the stylist’s first or second choice for me, but it worked.

Kye had given me a song, I wanted to give him something to remember.

Nervously, I paced the room, waiting for the security guard to collect me. After giving my chaperone the slip earlier today, Bree wasn’t taking any chances—for my safety, she’d said.

Tap. Tap. Tap. “Ms Mercer?”

Would they ever call me Ms Branson?

“Yes, coming.”

I looked back up at the screen. The eight couples were spread across three lounges, the fourth lounge waiting for us.

I remembered the dress rehearsal. Kenzie and Benjamin would enter the stage from either side, meeting JP in the middle. Kye and I would go second. I didn’t want to read anything into the order. Were they Australia’s most loved up couple? Or the production favorite and that’s why they’d get more stage time.

I looked at my nude-colored fingernails and wished they were real so I could bite them. I breathed in and out several times, trying to steady myself and ignored the voice in my earpiece threatening physical harm if I threw out her schedule.

The song that had hijacked all radio stations played over in my head. Surely, surely, surely, this wasn’t a stunt.

I had to believe if I went out on a limb tonight, Kye wouldn’t leave me tomorrow when the cameras were turned off.

Did he love me?

Did he love me even a fraction of how much I loved him?