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“Newlyweds, your next competition begins in ten minutes. Please change and meet out back.” The voice clicks off and we stand there in silence. After downing the rest of my water, I take off toward the bedroom Joey and I have been staying in. Within the next half hour, everything is going to change and she and I will be in the master suite playing husband and wife.
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joey
The computer voicetells us it’s time for our competition. I’m not sure if I want to win after witnessing the monumental breakdown Millie just had. Through blubbering tears, Millie confirmed what we all assumed—she and Cole had ‘done it’. Her words, not mine. Amanda told her that she was lucky that she trusted Cole enough and she just wasn’t there with Gary. I think she would be if she gave him a chance, but then again if he’d stop belching and rubbing his ever-growing beer gut, she might give him the time of day.
Not that I care.
I see her watching Joshua when he’s working out. I don’t blame her, but she should be focused on her husband, not mine. It’s annoying when she prances around in her tiny bikini and asks him to rub lotion on her back. He looked at me one time for approval. He didn’t and she didn’t get his soft hands on her back. I probably would’ve cried if he had touched her.
He’s mine.
For three months, less one-week, and then I have to give him back. Amanda has charted out our days, telling us how many are left, and I hate her for it. I don’t want to know the end is near, that I have one less day to be his wife. I want to continue living in this fantasy world where nothing else exists. He doesn’t leave me on a pre-determined date. We continue to be blissfully happy, sans sex, and I’m the only one he has eyes for.
“We should go,” I say as I head for the door. We’ve been cooped up in the pantry for what feels like an hour. Millie chose this place because aside from the master suite, there isn’t a camera in here. The producers can still hear us through our mics and will no doubt air all of what we discussed, but they won’t see Millie crying.
As soon as I open the door, my heart jumps. Cole appears, scaring me half to death. He looks over my shoulder at Millie, and I turn just in time to see her sad smile appear when they make eye contact. He cares for her, it’s written all over his face. He brushes past me, not even giving me a sideways glance, and goes to her. I long for that connection with Joshua. I want him to be the one to comfort me in my time of need or distress. I want to be able to hold him, cry on his shoulder when life is getting to be a bit rough and have him understand.
I have that now, plus the stolen kisses and stealth handholding. Most of that happens under the covers and I’m okay with it. I know the viewers can see when he’s kissing me. Part of me hopes it makes them jealous while the other part of me wishes they could never see anything happen between us. The divorce, annulment, the end of my life as I know it will be messy. Joshua’s fans are going to slay me on social media. I’ll be branded the gold-digging whore the moment we step out of the house. I’m sure that’s what I’m being called now, and it’s probably a good thing all electronic devices have been taken away from us. I want to hope that Joshua will protect me, but like he has said, he’s here to win the money. My feelings likely don’t register with him.
Joshua is in the room when I walk in. I catch him pulling up his shorts and stifle a laugh when he yanks them a little too hard. His pained expression tells me everything that I need to know.
“I thought you were Amanda.”
I pause and look at him. “Why would she be in here?” I don’t want to be possessive, but damn it, he’s my husband right now.
“She shouldn’t be, but I can usually tell when it’s you coming down the hall.”
“How?” I ask, hoping that he can dig himself out of the hole he’s starting to bury himself in.
Joshua doesn’t tie the board shorts he’s put on and it takes everything that I have in me to not pull him closer by those flimsy strings. He slides our door shut and comes over to me. We’re almost chest-to-chest, the closest we’ve been all day.
“It’s your perfume. I can usually smell it a mile away, figuratively speaking, and I’ve been waiting for you to get done with Millie. So when you walked in and I didn’t smell you before you got here, I automatically assumed it would be Amanda.”
Nice story, but not buying it, buddy. “Why was the door open if you were changing?”
“I’ve noticed that if it’s shut, you won’t come in. I’m not sure why, but sometimes I think you’re afraid to interrupt me.”
As I cross my arms over my chest, his eyes fall to my cleavage. He licks his lips, an act that I find enticing and sexy. Sometimes I think he’s attracted to me and then other times I think he’s a guy and probably horny. But he’s right. If the door is shut, I’ll go find something else to do and wait for him to open it. I don’t want to bother him.
Joshua pushes my hair behind my ear and leans in. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
When I don’t answer him, he kisses me just below my ear. “Since we woke up, I’ve wanted to do this,” he says in between kisses. My arms fall to my sides, giving him the opportunity to step closer. “I wish you’d open up to me.”
“I can’t,” I cry out as my heart breaks a little bit more.
Joshua stands tall and places his hand on my neck. “Why not?”
Sighing, I look him square in his beautiful blue eyes. “It’ll hurt when it’s over.”
He can’t hide the frown that takes over his face. The words I just said hurt, not only me, but him as well. It’s the truth and there isn’t anything I can do to change it. He’s said it from day one. I’m just reminding him that when this is over we go back to reality.
Reality sucks.
“You’re right, but in here you’re my wife and a wife walks in on her husband changing or when he’s looking for a few moments of peace and quiet. A husband probably wants his wife to walk in, come lie in his arms, and pretend that we’re not in a house with TV cameras following our every move. I may be an actor, but every now and again I need an escape.”
I lean into his hand and fight the urge to kiss his wrist. It’d be so easy to give myself to him, but he doesn’t want that. No sex, just kissing. My body is screaming for it, and even though he’s not rejecting me, it still feels the same.
