Reality Blurred

by Aven Ellis

  “Hey,” Gavin says, reaching for my shoulder, “when you care about someone, when you love someone as much as he loves you, things can escalate because of the emotions involved. The fear of losing what you have.”

  Gavin’s words hit my heart.

  Fear.

  He’s right.

  This whole time I’ve been with Maxime, I’ve worried that I wasn’t good enough. I thought my reality show past was going to always be hanging around in the background, and he would eventually leave me for someone without embarrassing TV footage attached to her life.

  But Maxime never had a problem with it.

  I was the one who did.

  Instead of embracing the doors it opened for me, I tried to distance myself from who I was. I worked hard, too hard, trying to prove to everyone, from my co-workers to the public to Maxime, that I was worthy of the jobs I had. Of the man I loved.

  When the truth is, the only person I need to prove my worth to is myself.

  I am worthy of the things I have, I realize. I don’t have to be anything more than the person I am at this moment. The woman I am now earned these opportunities. They weren’t given to me just because I was on a TV show. The past is a part of me, and if I didn’t go through that, I wouldn’t be where I am.

  I never would have met Maxime.

  The woman I am now is the one Maxime fell for. He might not like the tabloid articles and the media presence, but what matters to him is the woman I am when we are together. He accepts that because he wants what we have together.

  I have to embrace my Is It Love? past to have the present.

  To have the future with the man I love.

  I continue to sort through my thoughts with newfound clarity. Maxime must face his own fears for us to work. He needs to believe that history isn’t doomed to repeat itself. I love him for all the reasons Juliette didn’t. I would never write a tell-all book; my words came from a place of happiness and love. Maxime’s accusation still hurts, but I know it was said out of shock and anger, not from his heart.

  I turn to Gavin, who is texting on his phone.

  “Thank you,” I say to him. “You’re right. About all of this.”

  “Good, so you won’t be mad at me for what I just did,” he says, slipping his phone back into his coat pocket.

  I wrinkle my brow. “What’s that?”

  “I texted Maxime and said I was taking you home. He said that’s not where you’re going.”

  My heart stops beating.

  “Check your phone, Skye. Your answer determines where we go tonight.”

  I nervously retrieve my phone out of my purse. I have been ignoring it since our fight because I didn’t want to talk to anyone while I dealt with my heartbreak. There are messages from friends and family about the article, from JoJo and Sierra, and two from Maxime. My stomach clenches as I open the first one, sent minutes after our fight:

  I love you, too. You have no idea how long I’ve loved you. I hate myself for not telling you first. I never should have doubted you. I wish I could take it all back. I love you and I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. Please call me. Please.

  Tears of relief fill my eyes.

  Maxime loves me.

  We can work this out; I know we can. Before I answer, I read the next text from him.

  Come back to our home tonight. Where you belong. Please give me a chance to make this right.

  I turn to Gavin, who is waiting for my answer.

  “Take me home,” I say softly. “Take me home to Maxime.”

  ***

  The second the SUV stops in front of Maxime’s house, I want to bolt from the car and run up to the door. I’m desperate to see Maxime. I need to tell him I love him in the way I want to. Not from a place of ending, but from a place of beginning.

  But before I do, I need to take care of something first.

  I turn to Gavin. “Thank you for being my friend tonight.”

  “You were there for me when I needed someone. I’ll always be there for you, Skye. That’s what friends do, and I consider you one of my best friends.”

  I choose my next words carefully.

  “I know you aren’t ready now, but someday, you’re going to make some woman very happy. You are a great guy, Gavin. The woman who will love you in the way you deserve is out there. Don’t shut the door on meeting her, okay?”

  Gavin scowls. “Not only is that door shut, but it’s freaking nailed. I’ll let Maxime live the love story. I’ll star in the bad boy, athlete, player one.”

  I lean over and give him a peck on the cheek. “You aren’t fooling me for one second, my friend. But I’ll let you believe this piece of fiction. For now.”

  Gavin chuckles. “Shut up and go get your man, okay?”

  I grin as Dave comes around and opens the passenger door for me. I slip out of the car as Maxime jerks open the front door, as if he was waiting for me.

  The SUV pulls out of the circular drive and back down the winding road. My heart slams against my ribs. I only have eyes for Maxime, who is staring back at me with a mixture of anguish and longing on his gorgeous face.

  Before I can take a step, Maxime rushes toward me. I drop my purse and run to him, collapsing against his pale blue dress shirt and bursting into tears. I hear his heart pounding against my ear and feel his arms hold me as tightly as he can, as if he’s never going to let me go again.

  And I know he won’t.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Maxime murmurs as he bends down and presses his cheek to mine. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “I do forgive you,” I say, my voice breaking. “I love you so much. You’re The One, Maxime. The only one.”

  Maxime’s mouth finds mine, kissing me desperately, fiercely claiming me with everything he has. I kiss him back the same way, passionately telling him my words are true. My lips move rapidly against his, my tongue matching his frantic movements, knowing I’ll never kiss another man in my life.

  Maxime breaks the kiss, and I gaze up at him. His watery eyes are rimmed with red. I put my hands on his face, and he wraps his hands over mine.

  “I want forever,” he says, his voice growing thick. “I wanted it so badly I was afraid I couldn’t have it. You were right, Skye. I was getting mired in the past. If you didn’t like the life we have, you wouldn’t be here with me.”

  “I do love it,” I say, stroking his face in a reassuring way. “I’m exactly where I want to be, Maxime. All your qualities that are different are what draw me to you. You bring me balance. You make me happy in a way I’ve never known, all because of the man you are. Exactly the way you are.”

  He nods. “I promise I won’t doubt that ever again. As long as you promise to not doubt that I’m here because I want to be, too. I don’t love being in tabloids, or having photographers shout inappropriate questions to me about you, but I know it will slow down and fade. And even if it didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. I will take all of that if it means I get to love you.”

  “You were right about that,” I admit. “I was so busy trying to be worthy of everyone that I lost sight of the fact that I already was. I need to believe it for myself first.”

  “You do. Skye, you’re talented. You have earned every success,” Maxime says firmly. “The woman I love doesn’t need to prove anything to me, or worry about what my friends and family think. They see what I see, Skye. You are a bright, ambitious, intelligent, good person. That’s all we see.”

  Love for Maxime fills my heart.

  But we still have one big issue to address.

  I clear my throat. “We need to talk about the book.”

  Maxime looks anguished, and I see deep regret in his eyes.

  “I never should have accused you of writing a tell-all,” he says. “I’m sorry I said that. I was blindsided and angry; as soon as it came out, I wanted to take it back. I know you wouldn’t write anything to hurt me. Everything was out of control at that point. I thought I was losing you, and I lashed out because
it seemed like something you should have asked me about first.”

  Regret surges through me. “You’re right about that. I should have asked you first. I was afraid you’d say no, and I thought if you could see it first, you’d understand why I was writing it. If I could do that over again, I would. My actions were guided out of wanting to share how amazing you are and how every woman should strive to have a man like you. It was driven by wanting to show real love, unlike the love I thought I had with Tom.”

  I brush my fingertips across his strong cheekbones. “I’ll delete the whole file. Our story doesn’t have to belong to the world.”

  Maxime wraps his fingers around mine and brings my hand to his heart. “I trust you. If you want to share it, you can share it.”

  I smile up at him. “You can read it, and together, we’ll decide what will go in the book.”

  “That’s how we’re doing this from now on. Together. We’ll talk about things that are bothering us. It all goes on the table; no more hiding how we feel, no matter how stupid it might seem.”

  “I agree,” I say, nodding.

  “What about your workload?” Maxime asks, squeezing my hand against his heart. “I’m worried about your health, sweetheart.”

  “I’m cutting back,” I say with determination. “I’m tired of running when I don’t have to prove anything to anyone but myself. I’ll reduce my public relations appearances for the station. I’ll tell Charlotte the book draft might take longer. Instead of a daily blog, I might post twice a week. I want balance in my life. I want to enjoy walks with the dogs and binge watch Law & Order in my pajamas all day on a Sunday. Most of all, I want our time together to be good, Maxime. You deserve the best of me.”

  “I already have the best of you,” Maxime says, drawing my hand to his lips and kissing it gently. “I see forever with you, mon chérie. It might have taken me three chances and one fight to get it right, but I have it now. I’m never letting you go again.”

  Joy runs through me. “I’m not letting you go, either. I love you, Maxime.”

  “I love you, too,” he murmurs, kissing me again.

  I lose myself in his arms, thinking of the journey we had to take to be here. We both had to fall in love with other people and have our hearts broken. Fate put us together not once, not twice, but three times before we took a chance on each other.

  On true love.

  At some points in my life, my reality has been blurred. I thought I found love on TV, but I didn’t. That was an illusion of a TV bubble and a man seeking fame. It wasn’t real love.

  But right now?

  Reality has never been more crystal clear.

  This is love.

  Maxime is The One.

  And it’s forever.

  Epilogue

  July

  Brussels, Belgium

  “I love this city,” I declare. “I could stay here forever, Maxime!”

  I stop on the cobblestone streets of the Grand Place, the central square of Brussels. I gaze up at the Town Hall, a magnificent medieval building, and take another picture of the gothic tower climbing up in the brilliant blue sky of this sunny summer day. I’m spellbound by the architecture and history of this cultural city. This building was built in the 1400s. I think of how it has withstood the test of time, remaining a centerpiece of a vibrant European city to this day.

  “That’s good, since we are staying here for a week,” Maxime says, interrupting my thoughts.

  We arrived in Brussels yesterday after spending a few days in England, for Sierra and Jude’s wedding, which took place outdoors at the beautiful Rowton Castle. We took a day to explore London with Cade and JoJo before heading to Brussels to spend the next ten days with Maxime’s family.

  Last night, we had a big family dinner, and it was incredible. It’s funny to think I used to be worried about what they would think of me, because I was welcomed with nothing but warmth and love. Maxime’s mom made his beloved vol-au-vent and promised to teach me how to do it while we are here. I feel at home with them already.

  I gaze up at him and find he’s smiling down at me. I move closer so I can wind my arms around his waist.

  “It was a year ago that I was first here,” I say, “but I feel like I’m seeing Brussels for the first time. That’s because of you, Maxime.”

  The first time I was here, I was heartbroken and lost. I was drowning. Is It Love? had nearly destroyed me. My self-respect was in shambles. I played up the cupcake baker storyline and didn’t stay true to myself. Every moment I was on TV was dissected and analyzed, and I cracked under the pressure. Nothing can prepare you for that, even if you think you are going into it with your head on your shoulders.

  Of course, I didn’t plan to fall in love, either. After Tom broke my heart, I was left doubting everything I thought was true. I didn’t trust myself to make any decisions after proving myself capable of making so many disastrous ones. My reality had been blurred, and I vowed to never make that same mistake again.

  Little did I know that half a year later, everything would become crystal clear.

  “Come on, I want to show you something,” Maxime says.

  “But I’m not done here!” I protest.

  Maxime flashes me a gorgeous smile. “I promise we’ll come back here afterward, but I want to do something this afternoon. Trust me?”

  I press my lips briefly to his, detecting a hint of powdered sugar from the street waffles we ate earlier.

  “I do,” I murmur against his lips.

  Maxime takes my hand in his, and as we begin to walk, I reflect on how we got to this moment.

  Since March, our lives have blended perfectly. My lease ended in June, and I moved in with Maxime. Our brood, including the kittens and the dogs, is a big and happy one. Maxime built a screened-in porch so Boris and Natasha could get closer to the outdoors, and my heart might have melted when I saw him constructing it.

  While the Mountain Lions fell short of their playoff goal, with Seattle edging them out by one game, I’m incredibly proud of how the team played without Gavin. They have already made some moves to strengthen the weaknesses that showed during the season, including obtaining a super-star scorer, Pierre Gaudet, a French player from the Chicago Buffaloes. Gavin is back in Toronto rehabbing his leg, and to the surprise of no one, he’s well ahead of schedule in his recovery.

  I cut back on my off-air appearances, and despite Charlotte’s protests, I revised the deadline for the first draft of my self-discovery book. Maxime read the section dedicated to him, and he was moved to tears after he finished it. To my surprise, he didn’t have me change a word. Instead, he told me he was the luckiest man alive to have a woman who loved him as much as I did, and he didn’t care who knew it.

  I’m now blogging twice a week and doing well at the station. I have a new segment called Try That Hat, where I make a fool of myself trying different jobs for a day. I love the feature; it’s pure silliness and making fun of myself. Viewers have responded well, and suggestions are pouring in for new jobs to try.

  Aly is still Aly. She hates me, but we co-exist on set, and unless you know the story between us, you’d think we were the best of friends. One lesson I’ve learned is that you can’t make everyone like you, or even respect you, and in this case, it’s Aly. And you know what? As long as she stays out of my business, which she has, I’m fine with it.

  The tabloids still feature Maxime and me from time to time but not on any regular basis now. After the whole Tom-bomb dropped, and I released only one comment, that while I wished Tom the best in life, I was in a new relationship with Maxime and very much in love, it died off. Tom called me, of course, but I never returned it and then blocked his number. Within a week of his confession, he was snapped making out with a girl from a different season of Is It Love? in a famous L.A. sushi bar.

  So much for me being the love of his life, I think, laughing aloud at what a Grade A wanker he is.

  I must thank both Charlotte and Tom for the life I ha
ve now. If I hadn’t been pushed to go on Is It Love? by Charlotte, I wouldn’t have met Tom. If Tom hadn’t broken my heart, I wouldn’t have fled to Europe.

  And I never would have been at the café where Maxime first saw me.

  As we continue walking, I begin to get a feeling that I’ve been here before.

  “This feels familiar,” I say to Maxime.

  “Yeah?” Maxime asks.

  Then I see it.

  My heart swoons as I realize where we are going.

  We are going back to the same café where he noticed me for the first time.

  “Maxime,” I gasp excitedly, “it’s our café!”

  “It is. I thought this time we should have a cup of coffee together, don’t you think?” he asks.

  I smile. “Absolutely.”

  We enter the café, and Maxime leads me to the same terrace, filled with leafy green trees and flowers in abundant bloom.

  I stop walking when I spot a table with a small white cake, covered with sprinkles in various shades of pink, two glasses of champagne, rimmed with the same pink sprinkles, and a bouquet of vibrant red poppies on the tabletop.

  My hand flies up to my mouth.

  “Maxime!” I cry, delighted beyond words. “Oh my God, look at this!”

  He turns to face me and drops a sweet kiss on my lips. “Happy anniversary.”

  “Oh, Maxime,” I gasp, emotion filling me. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he says, leading me to the table and pulling out a chair for me.

  I sink down into it, staring at the beautiful cake he arranged for us to share today.

  “It’s perfect,” I say, moved by his sweetness. “Look at all the sprinkles!”

  A smile lights up his face. “Today had to have sprinkles and poppies.”

  He sits down across from me, taking my hand in his. “I can’t believe it was a year ago that I sat at the table right behind you, thinking you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I wanted to get up and take your sadness away. When you left, and I watched you walk away, I had this feeling I had let someone slip away. I don’t know how I knew it. We didn’t even exchange a word, but I knew you were special.”