“With only thirty days left, you must be excited for the finale?”
[All respond]
“Well as you know, we like to twist things every now and again, and this season is no different. This year, we’ll be introducing another couple into the house and they will also be eligible to win the grand prize.”
[Camera on newlyweds]
“I’ll be back later today to introduce them.”
[Cut]
I stare blankly at the screen as it fades to black. The last image we saw was Patrick Jonas smiling at us even though not a single one of us smile back. I’m trying to process what he just said, ‘another couple moving in’ and none of its making sense. Why wait until the show is almost over to do this? It’s bothersome that they have a chance of winning after only being here for thirty days. How is that possible? We’re the ones who have put in the blood, sweat, and tears for the past two months, and they get to waltz in and participate in a few competitions and what, win the game over the rest of us? I don’t think so.
As I look around at my housemates, I have a feeling my expression matches theirs. Most of us have been in bliss the past two months and that’s not great ratings. They want drama, conflict, and probably catfights. Believe me, there have been many times where I’ve felt like yanking out Amanda’s extensions, but I refuse to stoop that low for ratings.
Josh grabs my hand and pulls me from the chair. He all but drags me down the hall and into the bathroom. He wants to talk without an audience and this is really the only place we can do that aside from the master suite and in the shower with the water running. He still doesn’t trust that no one will be able to hear us. He pushes me up against the wall and crashes his lips to mine. Our tongues move together and my body sags against his. Ever since he came to me in shower, things have been more intense. We haven’t been intimate since and I thought I’d feel disconnected from him, but that’s not the case. The once subtle touches and stolen kisses are a thing of the past. He’s full-on romantic, and I love every minute of it, but dread the show being over soon. I sigh when he pulls away and am met with a quiet chuckle.
“What was that for?” I ask, breathlessly.
“I just wanted to be able to have one more kiss before the house erupts into chaos.”
“I think chaos is a harsh word.”
Josh shakes his head and leans in. “No, I don’t think so. This game is ruthless and the producers have something up their sleeve. They’re bringing in another couple to stir things up in the house. I’m just afraid our edge is gone.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “You know, I think Millie and Cole have a leg up on us.”
Josh pulls back and squints. “Do you not have faith in us? I’m hurt,” he says as he covers his heart and gives me an overly forlorn expression.
I cover my mouth and stifle a laugh. “Just think about it. You can see that they’re in love.”
“We could act like that,” he proposes, but I shake my head, because I don’t want to pretend. I just can’t let my heart believe that Josh and I are there yet. Could we be, yes, but we’ve been avoiding the elephant in the room—what happens after the show. Right now, I’m in wedded bliss and I don’t want to know that he hasn’t changed his mind.
“We can’t and you know it. We have a good thing going right now and if it’s not enough then so be it. I don’t want us to change our game play because of the producers. I’m not like you. And I don’t want to be misled. I can’t just shut my heart off when the game is over. I’m not trained in the art of hiding my feelings.”
“Joey—”
I put my finger against his lips. I know what he’s going to say and as much as I want to pretend that we’re this amazingly happy couple who are looking forward to the future, we’re not. I’ve finally accepted the fact that at the end of this month, I’ll be single again. It is what it is and I have no regrets. I’ll walk away with my head held high and with the knowledge that for ninety days, I was Joshua Wilson’s wife.
“You know what I want, but I’m not asking you to change your mind. I don’t want you to pretend with me either, not for the cameras. I already know that I’ll be checking into The Joshua Wilson Rehab for Heartbreak Center when the game is over.”
He looks at me funny with his brows furrowed. His grip on my sides tightens, and he averts his gaze. I hate seeing the torment in his eyes. Sometimes I feel like he’s about to burst out in song and dance, telling me loves me, and when that doesn’t happen, I’m surprisingly okay. I can’t force him to change his views. That has to be all him. I don’t want to ask him for anything other than what he’s offered. Right now, he’s given me two months of some of the best memories of my life. In a few years, I’ll be forgotten. I won’t even be a blip on his radar and he probably won’t even remember me.
Josh opens his mouth to say something, but closes it quickly and sighs. “Whoever comes in this house, we have to make sure they know we’re in this to win.”
“Are we not doing that now?” I question him.
“We have to be better, stronger.” I know he wants to win, but I’m not sure I do. I don’t want to be on the reunion show, which happens a year down the line, where they check in with us to find out how we’re doing. I read the contract. I know we’ll be in the same room together, sitting on the same couch. We’ll have to answer questions and that’s not something I want to do. I don’t want to give people the chance to take pity on me or make a mockery of our marriage. I chose to live these months in as much happiness and naivety as possible.
“Okay,” I say, agreeing with him.
“No, don’t just agree with me. I have experience with douche bag producers and they’re putting this twist in for a reason. Something’s happened that they don’t like and they’re not able to change the outcome of the game in their favor. Remember what they did with Jules?”
“How could I forget?” I say sarcastically as I roll my eyes. He knows how I feel about that little stint, so a reminder really isn’t necessary.
Josh pulls me into his arms, enveloping me in his warmth. I could live here, if allowed. Society frowns on this much physical attachment, although his movies would be interesting. My fingers bend into the back of his shirt as I hold him to me.
He kisses me lightly on the cheek before he pulls away, looking into my eyes. I wish his eyes matched mine and showed me that he’s scared of what our future holds, but they don’t. His are full of strategizing and game play. He’s trying to figure out how to win over the fans, especially after the Jules incident. I try to win them over by eating cake, not knowing if that even works, but the thoughts are there. I know I’m scared, scared of the unknown. Maybe I need this shake-up to keep me grounded because his eyes alone make me feel like I’m floating and that will get me into trouble.
I push his hair out of his eyes. It’s gotten longer, and he’s in need of a cut, or maybe not. He could like it. I know I do. I like him for who he is on the inside, not the celebrity he is, or what he looks like. Those feelings have changed … no, they’ve gotten stronger since I’ve gotten to know him. I’m forever going to be his number one fan.
I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been wondering if I’ve been blinded by stupidity as far as this game is concerned. It’s felt too easy, like they’re just dangling a million dollars in front of us and it’s ours to lose. Maybe that’s where I fail at this game because I never watched the show.
“I’d like for us to win the master suite comp,” I say, looking for a reaction.
“Oh yeah?” he questions in a husky tone as he leans in to kiss me. The exact thing I was looking for.
“Yeah, I miss you,” I mumble against his lips, putting myself out there for him to crush.
“I’m all yours, Joey.” His fingers thread through my hair, holding me to him. I refuse to read into his comment, but will totally live in the moment.
“We should get back out there,” I tell him.
“What for?” he asks as he leans in,
kissing me again. If we weren’t in the bathroom stall, I’d be all over a serious make out session. For the past couple of weeks, I haven’t been playing to the best of my ability because simple looks and shy touches from him turn me into a puddle of goo. I can’t be like that if we want a chance at winning. I need to be strong. I don’t want to let him down.
“Let’s go kick some Married Blind butt.”
Josh gives me a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He’s nervous and I’m not sure why. It’s just a game, and while the payout is large, it’s not like he can’t make that in a big hit movie.
“Whatever this game is, we’ll get through it together,” I say, trying to reassure him.
“Together,” he replies as we walk out. I glance in the mirror and hate that I’m not standing there fixing my make-up or hair. Everything is as it was when we walked in.
Walking back into the main part of the house, Gary can be seen sitting at the table with a beer in his hand and sweat rolling down his face. My guess is that he and Amanda had another fight. One day they fight, the next they’re making out on the couch. I have to use a lot of Lysol when I clean. I pat Joshua on his chest and motion for him to go speak to Gary. I think this new mystery couple has everyone on edge.
I sit down next to Millie, who tries to smile.
“Are you okay?”
She nods, but tears fall. I pat her hand, hoping to convey that I’m a great listener if she needs an ear.
“Yeah. I’m just worried.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Millie shrugs and dabs at her eyes with her tissue. “I watched the first two seasons, so I knew what to expect when I came on the show. Last year, they brought on everyone’s exes and it put the house into a tailspin. I’m really praying that it’s something different this year.”
“Oh,” I say, trailing off. I agree; the last thing I want is to spend time with Jules, but maybe it’s better to end things now than on the final show. If Jules Maxwell shows up, I can guarantee that Josh and I won’t win. Honestly, I’ll likely leave the studio.
“I’m in love with Cole, but we’ve never discussed our past. We’re happy. Well, as happy as you can be living your life while being on national television.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but they said a couple. They’ll be married, like us, and they’re going to compete. Patrick didn’t say anything about exes.”
Millie looks at me completely distraught. “What if?”
“No, I don’t play the ‘what if’ game because if I did I’d be in my room packing my bags. If they were going to bring in an ex, you know they’d bring in Jules. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll exist if she’s in the room.”
She looks over my shoulder and shrugs. “I think he sees you just fine.”
When I scoff, she shakes her head.
“I don’t know why they’re doing this,” she says.
I answer with, “Ratings,” and she rolls her eyes.
“It’s just a game.”
She’s right, it is a game. We signed on the dotted line to get married in front of a live television audience to people we don’t know. Who does that? The six of us apparently, and we did it for a reason. Each of us has our own history, but that doesn’t mean it’s for the producers to bring out of us until we’re ready.
“We gave them permission to own us for three months. So we roll with the punches and be sure to kick their butts in our next comp and show them whose boss.” It’s easy to say, but it is what it is. We signed up for this; it’s time to deal with it. Besides, it’s only reality television. No one will remember any of this next season, let alone next week.
She laughs, making me feel a little bit better.
Leaving Millie to tend to her own demons, I wander around the house memorizing everything from the colors in the painting on the wall to the design of the pillows that sit on the couches. Josh has warned me a couple of times that one of our competitions will be about our surroundings. He’s tested me and I’ve failed. I promised to get better.
Hour after hour, we wait. Dinner is quiet with only the clank of our silverware hitting our plates. I want to yell out it’s just a game, but my heart is pounding in my ears, waiting for Jules Maxwell to walk through that door. Ever since Millie brought up the ex-factor, I’ve been thinking that Jules is going to come in here, married to some unsuspecting guy.
I don’t know what Josh would do. They have history, years on their side. We have days, a marriage he plans to annul even though I believe we have chemistry. But it’ll never be enough to compete against her. I’m probably worrying for nothing.
Jules is my scapegoat for any and everything that can go wrong with Josh. When he leaves me it won’t be because of me, but because he loves her more. It’s easier that way for me.
“I hate this waiting,” Cole says as he puts his fork down. “How have we given a show so much power over us?”
“Because we signed our lives away,” Amanda adds, earning sighs from all of us.
“Don’t be so dramatic. Its reality TV and they need to keep the viewers entertained,” I add, pushing my plate away.
Amanda glares at me. I deserve it. “What if it’s someone we know?” Millie asks.
I look quickly at Millie, who is resting her head on Cole’s shoulder.
“Do you think they’d do that?” I ask to everyone at the table.
The guys mumble and Millie nods. “It’s what I’ve been thinking since Patrick told us,” she says.
“I think it’s someone to rock the boat, so to speak,” Amanda adds. I don’t want to tell her that I agree, but I do. We’re not spicy enough for the viewers.
“I’m sure we’re freaking out for nothing,” I say.
“How can you say that? Two people are going to walk in and take away your chances of winning a million dollars,” Gary snaps, completely disgusted with what I said.
Joshua reaches under the table and squeezes my leg, his way of letting me know that he agrees with me, but it does nothing to curb my anxiety. The longer we have to wait, the more it builds.
Millie starts to clean off the table and I stand to help her. Amanda doesn’t budge, but its fine. We’ve grown accustomed to doing most of the work around the house while she sits there. She’s someone I won’t miss when this show is over.
When the doorbell rings, I freeze and Millie drops a dish in the sink. From behind me I can hear the chairs scraping against the floor, the clear sound of everyone else standing. Mille dries her hands and I wait for her before we walk over to the rest of the houseguests where we stand in a united front. I clasp Joshua’s hand, a show of solidarity, or just staking my claim. Either way, he makes me feel calm.
Our monitor comes on and we’re greeted with Patrick Jonas staring back at us. “Good evening, newlyweds. As I said earlier, you’ll be meeting a new couple tonight. They already know you, and you’ll have five minutes to get to know them before your next competition begins. The winner of tonight’s comp will win the right to stay in the master suite.”
The door opens and I take a deep breath. I tell myself, Whoever it is that walks through that door, it’ll only be for a few days. Those are the words I repeat as the first person walks in.
I squeeze Josh’s hand and set my eyes on the foot of the door, watching for their shoes first. Two sets of legs come into view. Everything looks normal. They’re both wearing black shoes. The woman wears a skirt and her husband, slacks. Their hands are clasped; clearly they’re not afraid to touch, and it makes me wonder how long they’ve known each other.
The audible gasps make me look up and I wish I hadn’t. The couple in our doorway isn’t Jules or Millie’s ex, but none other than Bronx Taylor with his dirty blond hair styled perfectly and begging for fingers to be run through it. His smile is tilted and I finally meet his hypnotic hazel eyes, eyes that are piercing mine. I swallow hard and hear Joshua very clearly drop the f-bomb. Josh is no longer the only Hollywood hottie in the house.
Bronx steps forward at the same time I do.
“You look fantastic, Joey.”
“Thanks, you too,” I say as he envelops me into his arms.
Did I forget to mention Bronx Taylor and I were study partners in our first semester of college before he dropped out to pursue acting? By the growling I hear behind me, yes I did.
I step back and take a nice long look at Bronx only to realize that he’s going to be living here … without a shirt, and I have a feeling Josh isn’t going to like this one bit.
This definitely calls for cake. I think I really need cake.
“Houseguests, let me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.”
[Audience cheers]
“Bronx and Rebekah, meet the newlyweds of Season 3.”
[Switch to live feed]
“Oh you’ve got to be [bleep] kidding me with this [bleep],” I say as soon as I make eye contact with the douche that is known as Bronx Taylor, while he stands there with a brash smile on his face. His eyes are focused on Joey like she’s some sort of … some sort of goddess! Like she’s what he gets in place of his Oscar. His upper lip rises into a smirk, which I’m sure is meant to mock me, but it just pisses me off.
Joey pinches my side and hisses, “We’re live, watch your language.”
I raise my arm, pointing in Bronx’s general direction in protest, but Joey just shakes her head. “What?” I grit. “He … this … you … ugh!” I throw my hands up in frustration. Joey glares at me with disdain. I have a feeling I’m in a losing battle when I shouldn’t be. She’s happy he’s here and I don’t understand why. I’m the one on her list, not him, unless he’s on there and she didn’t tell me. She has to know about his relationship with Jules!
“I officially hate this game,” I mumble, earning a jab to my side. I try not to flinch, but when Bronx chuckles I know my acting skills aren’t up to par.
“Rebekah?” Her name is mumbled from one of us, and I’m positive that it came from Gary. I angle myself slightly and see him running his hands through his hair. I glance a look at the new wife in time to see her smile shyly and wave.
Blind Reality Page 15
