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“Oops,” Gabby says, not sounding sorry at all. “Accidents happen.”
Annabelle’s eyes well up again, champagne glasses trembling in her hands.
“Hey, hey.” I take the glasses and set them aside. I grab a nearby towel and offer it to her. “You look beautiful,” I tell her honestly. “A little water doesn’t change that.”
Behind us, Kavita makes a derisive noise before suddenly grabbing my arm. “Come on, Hayes! Live a little.” And before I can react, she yanks me forward, sending me tumbling fully clothed into the pool. I’m pretty sure one of my cufflinks falls off on impact.
I surface, sputtering, as several women gasp, and the camera crew rushes over. More women jump in after me.
“Isn’t this better?” Gabby laughs, swimming close to me. “Now you don’t have to be so buttoned-up.”
I push wet hair from my eyes, torn between annoyance and amusement. My tux is ruined, but there’s something freeing about the absurdity of it all.
From the pool’s edge, I spot Annabelle still fighting tears. But she’s not alone—the Vulcan woman has appeared beside her, speaking quietly. Whatever she’s saying makes Annabelle nod, then straighten her shoulders.
I swim closer to hear.
“—making a point of doing whatever they can to get attention,” the Vulcan is saying. “You have to ignore it and not get dragged down. People like that want a reaction.”
“I know that logically, but this is harder than I thought it’d be.” Annabelle sniffles.
“Right, but remember, they look desperate while you look dignified,” the Vulcan replies. “Trust me, I’ve seen enough reality TV to know how this plays out. The splasher never gets the final key that unlocks the engagement ring box.”
There’s something in her voice—a warmth beneath the Vulcan character—that strikes me as familiar. I swim to the edge of the pool near them.
“Logical assessment,” I say, and the Vulcan turns to me.
Up close, even with the costume, something clicks. Those eyes. I know those eyes.
She seems to realize I’m studying her too closely because she mouths, “We need to talk. Alone.”
“Brielle?” I whisper, stunned.
She nods discreetly.
Brielle. Here. On my season ofGroomsman to Groom. I’m suddenlyveryaware of the cameras, the other women, and the fact that I’m soaking wet in a chlorinated pool.
“Meet me in the garden,” I whisper.
She nods, understanding immediately.
I haul myself out of the pool, water cascading everywhere, and ask Tanya for a moment to dry off and change. In the temporary sanctuary of my room, I’m given fresh clothes and a few minutes to process.
Brielle ishere. The woman I connected with eight months ago, who disappeared to attend her sister’s emergency delivery. The woman I couldn’t stop thinking about, even as I agreed to do this show.
Before returning to the party, I sneak to a secluded corner of the garden to find her waiting.
“Hey,” I say, approaching cautiously.
“Hey yourself, Hero Hayes,” she replies with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” I keep my voice low. “I mean, the Vulcan entrance was epic, but—”
“I came for you,” she says simply. “TheGroomsman to Groomannouncement aired on TV, and when I saw it was you, I couldn’t believe it.” She sighs. “I was happy for you, and I planned to watch the show, but then… I don’t know. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about that night, and I thought, what if? So I filled out the paperwork, and Skye helped me submit it.”
“Your sister—”
“Had her baby early, but everything turned out fine. Oliver is crawling everywhere and saying a few words now.” She steps closer. “When I saw you were filming here in Atlanta, I knew Ihadto find a way to become a contestant on this show. I had to see if what we felt was real or just a moment.”