Page 95 of Insta Bride
“Nothing. It was out of character.”
“You’ve been described by one of the camera operators as vanilla and boring.”
I assumed Chloe was making sure her girl, Kenzie, would get all the good footage. Most camera operators tried not to be seen or heard, but Chloe always seemed to make an exception for Kenzie.
“Getting married on a whim isn’t vanilla or boring.”
“No, it’s not,” Danielle had agreed before hitting me with the clincher. “Do you see your marriage lasting another six months?”
While I was silent, photo after photo of Kye and other women scrolled across the screen. From the safety of Liv’s couch, I watched me watch the bedroom eyes of Kye glaze over other women. Women in his past, I tried to remind myself. Past, not present.
Pre-me. Pre-us.
“You okay?” Liv set my glass aside and squeezed my hand. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I remember what came next,” I said softly as Jess pulled me into her shoulder for a side hug.
Before I could explain, Danielle’s voice appeared again while the camera gave me a close up most actresses would die for. Capturing the moment the question registered, and the slow motion way my heart and mind finally caught up with the truth and crumpled.
“Okay, let’s try a different question. What would it take for your marriage to last six months or a lifetime.”
The camera didn’t lie. It captured my first tear. It froze as my shoulders started to shake. The whole world could see my breakdown.
“Elena? Do you think your marriage will last forever?”
My tears had messed with the makeup, creating long black streaks down my cheeks. Why would anyone let another woman appear on camera looking like that?
“I don’t—” I’d hesitated, needing to get my breathing under control. In the moment of being truthful, of unburdening my fears, I’d forgotten about the cameras and the competition. “I don’t think a man like Kye is built for a happily ever after.”
“So, why did you marry him? Don’t tell me you just got caught up in the insta-lust of the island?”
“Have you seen my husband?” I felt sorry for the hopeless romantic wearing my clothes and a smile I didn’t recognise. “Who wouldn’t want to marry Kye Branson, even if it only lasts six months?”
“You okay?” Kye tossed me an apple as I arrived home.
“What?” I’d expected him to hit me with questions seeking explanations. Not an apple.
“Teacher’s pet and all. If I give you an apple a day, do you think you’ll give me a better rating next time?”
Did he really want me to explain about editing and the pressure to respond to a thousand different questions all designed to blow the roof off ratings?
“Do you think you’ll give me a reason?” I snarked back.
“So, you want me to romance you the way Benjamin is fake dancing with Kenzie, is that it? Sprout some bullshit words of love?”
“Romance or love would be nice.” We circled around the lounge room, keeping the glass coffee table between us. Except, the twinkle in Kye’s eyes usually lead to sex. Or faux fighting. Or both.
“That night long, full body massage you saw? I was the one who suggested Benji amp it up for Kenzie. He’d caught her having a private conversation with the camera operator and wanted to reel her back in.”
“That was your idea?”
“Romancing a woman is always my idea.”
“Good to know you can speak with experience.”
“You never heard what I’d suggested for you?” Kye shook his head, “Man, they really edited the shit out of us. The last night, they’d asked me what my ultimate romantic date would be, with you.”
“No. I didn’t know you were asked about your own partner. They’d asked me about everyone other than you.” I squeezed my eyes closed and then opened. Yes, I needed to hear it from Kye. I knew him. I’d know if he was lying. “Tell me. One romantic date, what would it be?”