by Kate Hunt
Leo bends down to give me a sweet kiss. Just then, though, Warren calls for everyone’s attention. As Leo and I break from our kiss and look toward the front of the room, I get an awful feeling in my stomach.
“There’s one more thing we have to do tonight,” says Warren. “Before stepping out of this room, you must all find a brand new partner. And you may not switch again for the remainder of the show.”
Murmurs and protests immediately fill the room. A couple girls start freaking out, saying how unfair it is to be forced to separate from their men. Meanwhile, Leo and I stand there shocked, unsure of what to do. Even though switching partners was something we talked about having to do, we never expected to have to do it so soon.
I look around the room. There’s no one else I want to be paired up with. And there’s definitely no one else I want to see Leo paired up with. If Jess and Noah were still here, we could just swap with them. Damn it. Why did they have to be voted off this week? This sucks.
I look over at Leo, and he looks at me. He searches my eyes. Waves of love for him surge through me. Jess’s words echo in my head, too: I don’t care about the money anymore. I’m leaving with something way more important.
And, suddenly, I don’t care about the money, either. All I want is to be with Leo. And not just here.
I lean into his ear and whisper, “Let’s leave.”
“Leave?”
I nod. “Screw the money. Screw the show. I just want to be with you, Leo.”
“Are you sure, Whitney? Absolutely positive?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He looks at me once more, then grabs my hand. He starts to pull me through the crowd. Others take notice, and watch us, confused.
“Uh—Leo? Whitney?” says Warren. “Where are you two going?”
We ignore him. We just keep going. We don’t even bother to go upstairs and grab our stuff. We just run out of the house, hand in hand, laughing and glancing over at each other constantly.
And when we make it outside, we don’t stop. I look over my shoulder and see a couple cameramen running after us, but with the heavy cameras on their shoulders, they can’t keep up. And before long, we outrun them, and it’s just Leo and I on the road.
When the mansion is finally out of view, we stop running.
“I guess we should call for an Uber,” I say, panting for breath.
“Not quite yet,” Leo says. He drops down to one knee, and takes my hand into his.
“Leo,” I say, astonished. “What are you doing?”
“I’m proposing to you.” He grins at me. His eyes are so full of love. “Whitney…I’ve never stopped loving you. You’re the only one for me. You’re my world. And I know all of this is crazy. But we know each other. Truly. Deeply. And I know I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?”
Tears are streaming down my face. I nod and fall into his arms.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, Leo. Of course I’ll marry you.”
Chapter Ten
Leo
1 Year Later
“Hey, are you guys Whitney and Leo?”
I look up from watching Whitney putting a hat on our baby girl and see two teenagers looking at us giddily.
“Who and who?” I say, faking confusion.
Whitney playfully swats my arm.
“He’s just joking, girls,” says Whitney. “Yep. That’s us.”
“Oh my God!” The girls’ faces light up. “Can we take a selfie with you?”
“Of course,” Whitney says, grinning.
It’s kind of ridiculous that Whit and I still get attention from being on—and running away from—Love Mansion. But whenever we’re recognized, it also reminds me how grateful I am for the show. Without it, I wouldn’t be with Whitney right now, and we wouldn’t have the most beautiful daughter on the planet.
The teenage girls cozy up to us and take a couple selfies.
“It was sooo romantic when you guys chose love over the money,” says one of them.
“Yeah,” says the other. “So romantic. I’ve never met a guy I would give up fifty thousand dollars for.”
“Well,” says Whitney, smiling and glancing over at me, “maybe one day you will.”
They look at each other and giggle. Then they both say, “Thank you so much!” and run off.
“Wonder how long that’s going to keep happening,” I say.
“It’s going to keep happening as long as you’re a hottie,” she says, running a finger up my chest. “Which will be indefinitely.”
I laugh and lean over to kiss her.
“You look gorgeous today, by the way,” I say. “As always.”
I’m about to kiss Whitney again, but then our little one starts crying. Whitney immediately bends down to the stroller to tend to her. As I watch her calm our daughter, my heart swells. She’s such a good mom. I always knew she would be.
“You’re still glad you gave up the money to be with me, right?” I say.
“Of course,” Whitney says, giving me a look. “I’d give up a million dollars to be with you. Even a billion. Well…maybe not a billion…”
“The truth finally comes out,” I say.
She laughs. “Okay. Maybe a billion. The sex is pretty good, after all.”
Oh, God. I wish we were at home right now—I’d show Whitney over and over again how much I love her.
But we’re not at home. We’re on our way to meet some friends for brunch. And not just any friends—Jess and Noah, who have their own adorable little girl, and Samira and Eric, who are expecting twins in a few months. Life’s been crazy for Samira and Eric since winning our season of Love Mansion. Eric, Samira’s new partner after The Big Switch, ended up being the perfect match for her, and every time we see them, we love hearing about how things are going.
Our little one calms down again and Whitney sets her back in her stroller. As we start to walk down the sidewalk again, our phones chime. I pull mine out and see a notification that I’ve been tagged in an Instagram photo. When I pull it up, it’s one of the selfies that the girls just took with us. I laugh when I read the caption.
OMG guess who we just met?!? They are so cute in person! And their baby is adorable! #lovemansion #hotcelebrities #starstruck
“Is it a good one?” asks Whitney, peering over to my screen while she pushes the stroller. I show her the photo and she laughs.
“I love you, Whit,” I say.
“I love you, too, Leo.”
I pull her chin toward me and lean down and kiss her—a kiss that makes us both stop walking again.
“We’re going to be late,” Whitney murmurs.
“I know,” I say, kissing her again. “But screw it. I need to kiss my wife.”
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