Page 72 of Insta Bride

His compliments drenched me in a confidence I’d never had. By his side, I walked taller and felt deserving.

I tossed the coin, “My place it is, then.”

“About that,” Kye said after I gave the driver my address, “We’re married now.”

“I know, I was there.”

“It’s up to you whether we change names on documents or have a shared bank account, or however you want to do this.”

“I hadn’t thought of the logistics.”

“Yeah, the unsexy real time logistics.”

“We fought all the time on the island. What if we’re not ready to negotiate all the adult stuff.” The fear had started to swell in my stomach, what would happen when our honeymoon ended? Would Kye get bored? Would he leave?

“Well, we needed to decide a place to live, and we tossed the coin.”

“But sometimes one of us will have a real opinion. What happens when a decision isn’t unanimous?”

“Anything in mind?”

“We used to come together when they turned the cameras off and we could either talk or mess around.”

“You think that’s the way to solve our arguments? Sex?” I said goodbye to the half a million dollars.

“We love food and we love fucking, so we should work out a way of settling arguments with either food or fucking.”

“Kye?” I didn’t want to say the words but would never forgive myself if I didn’t.

“Yes, my Life?”

“I told you before about lying and cheating. I won’t do either. Kye, I’m all up for using food and sex to win fights, but I know you. I know your reputation. I can’t live with a cheater.”

“Neither can I.” Kye hugged me closer as we drove into my suburb. “I would never cheat. Baby, I’m gonna do stuff to drive you mad. But I’ll never cheat and I need you to promise that you’ll never get mad enough about things you hear about the guy I used to be, that you won’t revenge fuck someone else.”

“I’ve never cheated.”

“So, I promise not to lie to you or cheat on you.”

“Can you promise not to be an asshole?” I teased.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t you want me to be able to keep my promises? I said I wouldn’t lie, how can I keep that promise and also promise not to be an asshole?”

Walking through my Cronulla townhouse, I saw it through Kye’s eyes. All the soft furnishings, feminine touches that he probably hated on sight. I stood with my back against the wall, between the living room and the kitchen, as he made his tour, stopping at the collection of photo frames.

“Whose wedding?”

“Olivia—you spoke to her on the phone. That’s Hunter, her husband. Our friends Jess, Tash and Mel.”

“This?”

“My parents and grandparents at my eighteenth.”

I grimaced when Kye pulled out the small frame. I’d forgotten it was there. Hiding behind the others. I’d kept meaning to toss it away or put it where it belonged, in the shoebox. Except, I loved the way my smile lit up my face. I’d been happy. I’d been in love.

I’d been living a lie, only I hadn’t known it.

“Who?”

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