Page 58 of House of Desire

But I do.

And I don’t know what to do because at the end of the day, I’m a hypocrite. I worry about Anastasia’s honesty with me, how much of what I saw was for the cameras during all of these dates, these moments, that have been manufactured.

And yet.

Even how I reacted or didn’t has been manufactured to an extent. How can I be mad if she did the same? Anastasia doesn’t know the real me, though.

And I can’t get engaged to someone who doesn’t know what she’s getting. Because eventually, she’s going to figure out what I am. Boring. Predictable. All the things Brittany accused me of and I never wanted to be. And what I said to Anya’s mom was the truth. Marriage matters to me. Commitment matters to me.

I wonder if I should change my mind. If I should propose to Carmen instead. Not because I actually want to be engaged to her, but because it won’t hurt as much when it inevitably ends.

When she leaves.

I want a real relationship with Anya outside of this show. I want to call her and ask if she wants me to pick up pizza after she has a hard day. I want her to call me when something needs to be fixed around her shop.

I want to take her on dates.

Real dates.

But how do we do that, how do we go backward almost, if we are engaged? I wish I could talk to her so we could get on the same page. Tell her, even though I’m putting a ring on her finger, I want us to go slow. To give this a real shot.

That I want to be with her.

I should have talked to her about this during our Desire Suite date, but I was too busy kissing her.

“Are you ready?” Philip asks, popping his head into the room. Startled, I look up at him and pray I’m not about to ruin what this could be.

“Yes,” I tell him, despite feeling the exact opposite.

The silence is oppressive as we ride down in the elevator. Once in the car, Philip debriefs me from the front of the car, as if this situation is completely normal.

“Carmen will come first. You’ll reject her. There will be about thirty minutes, give us time to reset anything that we need, and Anastasia will arrive.”

“Sounds good.”

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes, so let’s get some lead up shots.”

He begins reading through the paper on his clipboard and I answer, as best I can. We pull up to a scenic view, the stage set.

“Got it. I’ll let him know,” Philip says into his phone as everyone puts the final touches on the camera set up while another wires me with a microphone.

“We are changing the order. Carmen’s car is having some issues and Anastasia’s had already left to get to the staging area.”

I simply nod. Nothing I say matters at this point. The driver opens my door and my heart races as I step out into the early evening sun. I’m moved into position and everyone moves around, disappearing to give us the illusion of privacy.

I stand in the middle of a semi-circle of roses and other flowers I don’t recognize. Candles flicker around me even though it’s daytime. Before I know it, the black limo pulls up. The driver gets out, opening her door.

Just like the first day, I see her shapely leg first before she reaches out a hand to the driver to help her stand.

Anastasia is beautiful as she climbs out in her champagne dress that’s covered in beads and sparkles. As perfect as she looks, the smile she gives me is radiant. Her heels crunch against the gravel and this time there is no twisting ankle sending her into a sprawling heap. She stretches out her hands once she’s close to me and I marvel again at the softness of her skin before leaning down to give her inviting lips a kiss.

I linger for a moment, just in case it’s the last time she lets me kiss her.

The ring in my pocket is heavy.

And the uncertainty of this moment makes my stomach turn.

“Hi,” she says, breathless.

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