Page 137 of Insta Bride

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Benjamin smiled to Kenzie’s squeal.

“No, no you can’t.”

“Oh, yes I can. I’ve got a confession. As far as I remember, the contract for these last six months included a clause about sabotage. If we tried to sabotage the other couple, we’d be automatically eliminated, and the fifty thousand dollars would go to a charity.”

He looked at Kye, then at me. “I’m the one who should be sorry. All those photos of your man with other women?”

“They’re fake, I know.”

He seemed relieved. “Kenzie has a friend who retrieved photos from Kye’s cleansed timeline. No one could find any photos of him cheating on you, so we leaked photos to make him look like he had.”

Kenzie was sobbing as hard as Chloe. They might get their happily ever after, but at what cost?

“Sorry, Lena. But you need to know that your guy is totally into you.”

“That’s good,” I said, “because he’s kind of stuck with me.

While the audience laughed, Benjamin searched the couch until he found the woman he’d been looking for.

Offering Sami his hand, he said, “You still single?”

She glowed, “Yes, but—”

“How about it? You and me?”

“Can we not get married after the first month?”

“I’ll keep that in mind, especially since I’ve got to get a divorce finalised first.”

I turned around to see Kenzie already over at the camera stand with Chloe. The day had gone mad, but then again, it made perfect sense.

Kye

As effortlessly as she’d turned my heart inside out, my beautiful, sexy, blushing bride had turned the final ceremony on its head.

While the rest of the crew and production was focused on the love triangle no one else had realized, I drew Elena into my chest. I recognised her bikini and remembered wanting to pound into her on the beach—but had resisted to mere push ups. I remembered the shoes, and how they’d been the only items of clothing to survive the first hour in our villa after the wedding. Elena’s legs in nude heels—even the thought could turn my balls back to navy blue.

As for the dress she’d worn as a jacket, it looked the same, but felt different. The original dress had been rougher, more lace panels. This was soft, delicate. I could probably tear it to pieces with my teeth.

But then, we’d never be able to wrap our first born in the same fabric as her dress.

Shit.

The thought refused to go away.

I not only wanted to stay married to this woman, I wanted to put a baby inside her.

“Elena, Elena, I love a girl called Elena,” I sang into her ear, starting to rock together to the sound of the beat in my head.

Pandemonium exploded around us. I vaguely heard Bree shouting that the commitment ceremony would be cancelled and they’d run with this fucked up version of the show until the timeslot ran out. JP’s face was splotchy red with panic and anger—his minions had gone rogue and he had no idea how to corral us back in.

I had the woman I loved in my arms, “Elena, Elena, I love a girl called Elena.”

“You’d never said the words to me, before,” she whispered but I heard her words magnified around the room.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since before I realized I loved you—does that make sense.”

“No more than marrying a man I’d only known for four weeks.”

---