“Five!?”
“And Ididtell you your brother was getting serious…”
“Yeah, all of fiveminutesbefore she arrived. And you didn’t tell me who he was getting seriouswith,” I fire back.
A wounded look flashes across Mom’s face, and I force myself to take a deep breath.
“Okay,” I say, even though nothing is remotely okay. “Fine. Let’sset aside the… you know”—I gesture vaguely—“Caraof it all. Are you guys really okay with Cooper gettingmarried? To anyone? Especially someone he’s only known for a few months? That’s not enough time to fall in love and know if you want to spend the rest of yourlifewith someone.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you did onLovedBy?” Pete says, unhelpfully. Tripp elbows him in the ribs and throws me an apologetic glance.
“Yes,” I snap at my older brother. “And look how that turned out.” I spin around and stomp back into the house, letting the door slam behind me.
6
ON THE SEASON FINALE,Aaron dropped down to one knee, produced one of the three rings I’d preapproved fromLovedBy’s jewelry sponsor and said, “I’m ready to start my Happily Ever After with you.”
After, we rode the famousLovedBycarriage away from the house and into the sunset. There’s a long, lingering shot of us. The sky fading from periwinkle and pink to a darker velvety blue. The carriage cresting over the hill behind theLovedBymansion. I’d seen other couples take that ride before, having watched the dozen or so seasons before mine, and I’d never thought about where the road led to. Just some warm and hazy Happily Ever After like the show promised. But the truth is, it didn’t go anywhere. The second we were out of the camera shot, the driver stopped the horses, and we got out to wait for the production car that would actually take us to our hotel.
I’d felt happy, of course, but overwhelmingly, I’d felt relief.
I’ddoneit. I’d found the perfect guy. I’d been flung up into the air and told to perform a perfect basket toss, and I’d landed it perfectly.I just hadn’t realized at the time that I’d landed in quicksand, and my whole world was about to get sucked away.
But I should have known.
Of course an open-air carriage wasn’t going to merge onto I-10 and spirit me away to Happily Ever After. Of course I hadn’t found my one true love on a TV show. Of course it was too good to be true.
Maybe for some people, it really works. For people who happen to find that gem of a man who came on the show for all the “right reasons” and knew how to see through the facade and the fairy tale.
But that wasn’t my experience.
The truth about Aaron had trickled out bit by bit. There were enough hints that I should have figured it out. The way he always kept his phone facedown when we were together. The smell of santal on his clothes when he came in the door.
Yet the full truth still hit me like semitruck.
Aaron had been dating another woman—Cara Lancolm—the entire time.
The whole show shoots for about two months, but then for another two months, the final couple goes into hiding while the show airs, so viewers don’t get spoiled about which guy is the last one standing.Then, they film the finale, live. At the finale, Aaron and I were supposed to get married on TV. That was the day—of all the days she could’ve chosen in between—that Cara went public with her story.
We were literally in the middle of filming the “getting ready montage” in the “bridal suite” when a producer delivered the news to me on camera. Cara had just posted online claiming she and Aaron had been dating for about a year, and she had no idea he was going on the show—saying Aaron told her he was going to be competing in a golf tour in Asia and would be “hard to reach” for a few months.But it was clear to me that the whole thing was just a publicity stunt orchestrated by the two of them.
Cara’s jewelry line skyrocketed—everyone wearing those stupid gold strawberry charms—and then, just a few weeks after the story went viral, she released a new line of necklaces, featuring a delicate anchor charm… identical to the anchor tattoo Aaron had on his forearm, and the matching one on Cara’s shoulder. It was like salt in the wound.
The shock of it all was so brutal, I didn’t even get the confident, satisfying breakup I deserved. I should’ve been able to put Aaron in his place, but when it all came out, during filming of the live finale, I could barely process what was happening. I was a mess of tears and ruined makeup, and the cameras caught it all. Even to the end, Aaron was groveling, saying we could still do this, we could still get married…if I wanted. It was humiliating; I felt sick. I finally got him to leave, with the help of the producers who had to physically drag him out.
And that’s it. I never got any more closure than that. The wedding was canceled, and because of the travel logistics, I didn’t even get to see my family. I was taken backstage, and they were flown straight home. And maybe that was for the best—I wouldn’t have wanted them to see me as I was once the cameras went off. I wouldn’t have wantedanyoneto see me like that.
I still don’t.
ISTORM UP THEback stairs and down the hall to my room, flinging open the door. A waft of rose and plumeria body spray scent hits me, somehow the permanent smell of this bedroom since 2010, as I take in my unchanged childhood room.
Two twin beds, each with pink floral bedding, and monogrammed pillow shams with my initials. A white wooden desk, still home to my rainbow sticky notes and the ceramic owl pencil holder Linney made me at summer camp. And of course, my awards—or at least, the ones that could be affixed to the bulletin board above the desk (most of the bulkier trophies had been relegated to attic storage). There are dance rosettes, pageant ribbons, and the lone “Most Improved Math Student” award Mom insisted on hanging, all sun-bleached and curling at the edges.
Leaving my suitcase by the door, I flop onto my bed. My head is spinning, trying to figure out what to do. I wish I hadn’t had that champagne. I can’t even think. I’m still processing the fact that Cara ishere. In myhouse.
Trying to insert herself into my family.
Forever.
