Page 116 of Insta Bride

Scratch that.

I hadn’t even grabbed a set of weights before my so-called friends started asking for Elena’s number. My growls weren’t enough to discourage them, so they started negotiating between themselves who would call her first.

The good news was no one was worried about her ex upgrading to current. I hoped my silence and switching from weights to punching bag was enough to set them straight about my intentions.

I wanted my wife back.

“What the fuck do you mean?” I yelled at Bree, wanting to smash something but spending the night in jail might make for great publicity, but wouldn’t win back my wife.

“I mean, you can’t talk to her. You can’t tell her your side of the story. That nondisclosure agreement works for you as well. Elena has moved out of your home and doesn’t want to talk to you. But, if you would both meet on camera—”

“She’s my wife,” I yelled again, not believing the bullshit coming out of Bree’s mouth. In any other world, I’d think she was messing around with my life for shits and giggles. I knew better. She was on team Kylena, but her first loyalty was to the suits.

While I’d been talking with Hunter, Bree had left me half a dozen phone calls. I’d thought perhaps there was an opportunity for me to put my side of the story over. But, no. It was to warn me that the non-disclosure agreement that I had signed apparently could be extended however the TV production company wanted. They wanted it to be extended to my conversation with Maddox.

Which meant, as Bree had just informed me verbally with written confirmation to follow, I couldn’t put my side across. I couldn’t give a radio interview without permission.I couldn’t give a TV interview without permission. With Elena not talking to me, I couldn’t use the media to tell my wife her asshole ex deserved to be in the ground. I had to let it play out.

Last time I counted the number of voicemails I’d left Elena, it was sixteen. The last time I’d counted the number of text messages, I passed thirty before scrolling back and sending her one more.

We had two weeks until the final ceremony where it would be us or Benjamin and Kenzie crowned as Australia’s Love Story. One of us would walk away with the cool half a million dollars in cash.

I didn’t care about the fucking money anymore.

I even threatened to walk away. I told Bree I’d quit the whole damn show, quit everything to get released from the NDA. I threatened to walk away from everything other than Elena.

She’d laughed and reminded me that editing hadn’t been finalized and there were still hours of my interviews that could be spliced together to make me look like Australia’s Worst Douchebag.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked her, toning down my anger.

At least she’d laughed, “It’s nice to see you lose your shit over someone other than yourself. I’ve known men like you all my life. I see them walk in and out of this show all the time—to see you actually lose it over a girl it’s kind of nice. Who’d have thought Kye Branson could make me believe in love.”

“There’s not going to be any love if you don’t help me out.”

“What can I say, Kye.” Bree’s tone was saccharine sweet with a poisoned sting in the tail, “You made your bed, now you get to lie in it.”

“I didn’t make Jack shit, just set something up so I can talk to her.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to let this play out. If you want a reunion the cameras will be there.”

“If you’re forbidding me from talking to my own wife—”

“I’m not forbidding you. I’m telling you the way it is. This is television gold. You wanted to be famous, you wanted to have your name and lights? Well, this is what it looks like.”

“Someone’s still coming up with fake photos.”

“And how do you know they’re fake?”

“Because I haven’t been with anyone other than Elena, since Elena.”

“Really?”

“Are you blind? Fuck, Bree. I want my wife. I want my marriage.”

“No, Kye. You want money. You want fame. You’ve got both.Turn them into cash after the final ceremony.”

“Bree, cut me a break, please.”

“How about I give you a little female solidarity. You’re an ass. Take the money. Take your career and let her go.”

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