Page 73 of Groomsman to Groom

“You okay?” The whisper comes from Annabelle, standing beside me despite everything. Her red hair is twisted into an elegant updo, making her freckles stand out.

“Not really,” I admit softly. “I’m sorry again.”

Her eyes, still showing lingering hurt from my deception, soften with concern. “Let’s talk later.”

Before I can respond, the doors open, and Hayes enters. I search his face the way I always do, looking for that little smile he reserves just for me—the one that appeared even that first day on the beach. That smile that says, “My heart is yours, don’t worry.”

It’s not there. His jaw is set, his eyes focused somewhere above our heads. He looks like a man walking into a board meeting where he’s about to fire half the staff.

“Everyone.” Hayes’s voice is formal. “Thank you for being here tonight.”

It’s such a bizarre thing the show has him say. Where else would we be? We’re contractually obligated to stand in this room, in uncomfortable heels, waiting for him to decide our romantic fate.

“I know there’s been a lot of hurt and tension,” he continues, still not meeting my eyes. “And I want to thank you for your patience and understanding through this process.”

My palms are sweating now. This isn’t the Hayes from the SUV who told me he was falling for me. This isGroomsman to GroomHayes, the carefully constructed public persona designed to look good on camera. The one who always says the right thing, makes the right move.

Stay cool, Brielle.

Skye glides into the room, her blond hair adorned with what looks like tiny origami birds today. She’s wearing a dress in shades of purple and blue that makes her look like she’s floating rather than walking.

“Good evening, Women Warriors,” she says, her voice soft and calming. “As you’ve noticed, we’ve made some adjustmentsto our schedule. Tonight, we’ll move directly to the Lock & Key ceremony.”

My eyes snap to Hayes. He still won’t meet my eyes.

“Hayes will now present keys to the women he wishes to continue this journey with,” Skye says.

My heart begins to pound so hard I’m sure the microphones can pick it up. The sound engineer will have to adjust levels in post-production because Brielle’s cardiac system is going haywire on national television.What the hell is happening?

“If you receive a key tonight, you will remain in the competition for Hayes’s heart. If not, you must say your goodbyes and leave immediately.”

The ceremonial box containing the ornate keys is brought forward on a silver tray. Hayes steps up to it, his movements stiff, almost robotic.

The room blurs, and I’m feeling unsteady on my too-high heels.

“When I call your name,” Hayes says, “please step forward to receive your key.”

The silence in the room is heavy, oppressive. I can feel the cameras zooming in on my face, eager to capture every flicker of emotion. The background music—that soft, tension-building melody they always play during eliminations—seems unnaturally loud in my ears.

“Serena.”

She steps forward, her velvet black dress making her look extra tall and sleek. Hayes hands her the key, murmuring something I can’t hear. She nods, accepts it with a smile, and returns to her spot.

One key gone. Two remain.

“Annabelle.”

Beside me, I feel rather than see Annabelle’s surprise. She squeezes my arm quickly before moving forward to accept herkey. Hayes says something that makes her break into a genuine smile before she returns beside me. I tuck a non-existent lock of hair behind my ear.

One key remains. Two women: me and Luna, the women who just threw a drink in my face and ruined my dress. She’s going home for sure.

“Luna.”

For a moment, I think I’ve misheard.

The room tilts as Luna moves forward to accept the final key. Hayes says something to her too, but the words are muffled by the sudden roaring in my ears, like I’m underwater, drowning in real time while everyone watches.

Luna? This can’t be happening. Not after my conversation with Hayes in the park by my sister’s house. Not after he believed me about Luna’s lies. This makes zero sense.

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