Page 88 of The Accidental Honeymoon

Calla and I are perched on a faux-leather couch. It squeaks when either of us shifts. Calla sits with perfect, almost painful, posture. Like a doll that's been propped up too rigidly.

Sliding a hand onto her knee, I give her a squeeze. Behind the camera, someone starts counting down. “We’re live in five, four, three…”

The cameras roll and the host, a perky blonde with a megawatt smile, leans in from her swivel chair.

"Welcome back to Good Afternoon Atlanta. I’m your host, Brigitte Blanc. I’m here with Jay Rustin and Calla Nikolakis, the surprise couple of the season! You might have seen video footage of their impromptu wedding. Jay, Calla, thank you for joining us."

"Thanks for having us," I say, flashing my most disarminggrin.

It's the kind of smile that usually melts any lingering resistance. But Calla's expression remains as firm as granite. This is not going particularly well and it’s only ten seconds into the interview.

“You two have quite the story. An accidental marriage that took place the very same day as Jay was supposed to marry someone else! How did that even happen?"

I take a breath, ready to launch into the well-rehearsed spiel. But before I can get a word out, Calla speaks. "Tequila.”

“Ahaha!” I laugh like she’s just said something hilarious. “Calla isn’t entirely wrong. We were slightly tipsy when we got married.”

Calla shoots me a skeptical look but doesn’t say anything.

Brigitte’s eyes widen, her smile growing to cartoonish proportions. "That sounds like something out of a movie! Were you two... involved before this?"

I feel Calla bristle. She turns her head towards me, slowly, deliberately, as if to say, Well?

"We've been friends for a while," I say, trying to strike a balance between truth and the narrative we need to sell. "Calla was the pastry chef at my wedding, so we spent a decent amount of time together."

Brigitte’s expression brightens like she's just uncovered a juicy secret. "Ah, so there was already a connection!"

I can feel the weight of Calla's glare without even looking at her. She hates this. She hates all of this. And part of me hates that I'm dragging her into my world, where smiles are currency, and every word is a transaction.

"Jay, your followers were devastated when your fiancée called it off. Do you think this unexpectedtwist with Calla is fate?"

Fate. The word hangs in the air like a balloon, waiting for someone to pop it. I know what my followers think. I know what the public wants. They all want a happy ending, tied up with a neat little bow. I need to walk the line between delivering that and choosing my words with care.

"I believe we make our own fate. Right now, Calla and I are just trying to navigate this situation as best we can. We know that we’re in love. So, everything else is just getting comfortable, you know?"

Brigitte pivots her attention to Calla. "How has it been adjusting to life in the spotlight? Jay is a public figure. You’re not. You’re suddenly thrust into this world of social media and having every moment documented."

Calla hesitates. I can see her weighing her options, calculating the best way to answer without giving too much away.

"It's been... interesting," she says at last. Her words are careful, just like everything else about her.

I almost laugh at the understatement.Interestingis one way to put it. The truth is, she's handling it better than I expected. Better than I did when I first started out.

Brigitte glances at a stack of note cards, then back at us. "So, the big question. Are you going to stay married?"

"Absolutely,” I say immediately. “We’re committed to making it work."

Calla nods. She grabs my hand and smiles. “Definitely.”

“Thank you both! When we come back, more with these two lovebirds.”

“One minute!” someone shouts.

Brigitte turns her head, and a makeup artist scuttles over with powder. I exhale and lean back in my chair but have barely started to relax when a PA counts down again and the camera settles on us once more.

"We’ve talked about your adventures," Brigitte says. "But what do you think is the secret to making love last? Any tips you want to share?"

Calla straightens. This is a landmine of a question, the kind that can blow up a whole interview if not handled delicately. I expect her to defer to me, but she dives in.

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