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The request—no, the demand—hits me like a sucker punch. “What? Why?”
“It’s clean, it’s simple. We’ll frame it as your response to the hometown visit. Say you had concerns after meeting her sister. You realized the connection wasn’t as strong as with others.” Darren spreads his hands.
“But Brielle will believe that too, and it’s not the truth.” After a night to reflect, I’ve realized that for all the discomfort of Paisley’s interrogation, she forced me to face things I’ve beenafraid to fully claim. Yes, I am ready. Yes, I do believe I can be what Brielle needs. Yes, I have learned from my past.
And most importantly: yes, I am willing to fight for Brielle, to endure uncomfortable questions and skeptical family members and my own lingering doubts. Because what Brielle and I have found, against all odds and artificial circumstances, is worth defending—even from those who love her most. I say, “She can’t think that, Darren. She’s the one I want to propose to.”
“Look, people will care less about the footage if she’s not a finalist, and you know it. Brielle goes home with her reputation intact, the show continues without the scandal, everybody wins.”
“Except Brielle,” I say. “And me.”
“Hayes.” Darren’s voice softens, taking on the practiced concern of a man who manipulates emotions for a living. “Let’s be realistic. After what happened last night, do you really think Brielle can have a positive experience here? The other women are already isolating her. Social media will be brutal. The kindest thing you can do is send her home, let her regroup away from the cameras.”
I hate that there’s a grain of truth in what he’s saying. The environment has turned toxic for Brielle overnight. But still...
“That’s not your real concern,” I say. “You don’t want her gone to protect her. You want her gone to better your narrative.”
“Yes, I do. It’s my job to do whatever gets us the best ratings without lawsuits.” Darren stands, coming around his desk. “Look, there’s more at stake here than just your feelings or Brielle’s career. Think about August.”
The mention of my son straightens my spine. “Leave him out of this.”
“I can’t.” Darren shakes his head. “This isn’t just about scandal, Hayes. It’s about your reputation too. How do you think August will feel when his friends at school see edited footage that makes it look like the whole journey was rigged?”
My hands curl into fists at my sides, and I don’t have a response.
“That’s reality,” he continues. “I’m offering you a relatively clean alternative. Send Brielle home tonight, continue the journey with Serena, Annabelle, and Luna. Pick one of them for the finale, give us the proposal viewers expect, and everyone walks away unscathed.” He pauses. “Even Brielle.”
The weight of the choice settles over me like a shroud. I think of the conversation Brielle and I had in Spain, the declarations I made. I think of August, innocent and trusting, asking if the “funny writer lady” could visit sometime. I think of Sarah.
Sarah.
The image of her floods my mind—her smile, her kindness, the way she’d looked at me the last morning I saw her alive. “I’ll pick August up from practice,” she’d said, keys jingling in her hand. “You go to that photo shoot. It’s important.”
I’d kissed her goodbye, so grateful for her support, never imagining that decision would shatter our lives forever. Since that day, I’ve lived by one rule: follow through on my commitments, no matter what. Don’t leave things unfinished. Don’t make promises I can’t keep.
I promised August we’d see this through. I promised myself I’d be open to finding love again. I promised thirty women a fair chance.
But I also made implied promises to Brielle.
“I need time,” I tell Darren. “Let me think about it.”
He checks his watch. “You have until the Lock & Key ceremony tonight. Which, by the way, we’re moving up to right now. No cocktail party, no more chances for Brielle to pull you aside. Clean, quick, decisive. And Hayes,” he continues, stern, “Brielle cannot learn about any of this until a month after the show finishes airing.”
I gasp. “That’ll be…” I count, “… over six months! She’ll have moved on by then.”
“It has to be that way so your selection looks real. Then you can break up, stating that the relationship couldn’t hold in the real world. It’s how it has to be.” He extends his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
This is all too much, and my brain is short circuiting. I’m going to lose Brielle, for good. I look at his outstretched hand, but don’t take it. I need a few minutes to make an impossible choice. “After tonight’s ceremony, you’ll have your answer.”
I storm out, realizing that whatever happens next, there’s no turning back.
26
Locked Out
BRIELLE
As I enter the Lock & Key room, my salmon cocktail dress, the one I hadn’t planned on wearing, feels too tight across my chest, like my lungs can’t expand properly. The other three women have assembled beside me, their faces a gallery of emotions ranging from uncertainty to barely concealed hostility. No one meets my eyes. No one has to. I’m Brielle the Betrayer now, the woman who knew Hayes before, who kept secrets, who can’t be trusted. But I just need to get through the next hour, then go from there. Will I make it through the next hour?