Page 159 of Say Yes to the Nemesis
Instead, I walk out of that room and head straight for my suite. The cameras try to follow me, but I slam the door in their faces.
For a moment, I just stand there in the silence, trying to process everything that just happened. They have my phone. I signed a contract that says that they don’t have to pay me a dime if I don’t attend every single taping for the duration of the show. They have complete control over my life for the next two weeks.
But the producers don’t have my mind. And they sure as hell don’t have my heart.
My heart is its own beast. They can’t control it or commodify it. And it belongs to Wren.
Assuming that she’ll have me in two weeks after I’ve been paid for this tv show, that is. I have to believe that she will.
I don’t punch the wall, even though every instinct is telling me to. I don’t scream or throw things or do any of the dramatic bullshit they’d probably love to film.
Instead, I sit down at the desk and pull out a notebook. One of those cheap ones they stock the rooms with for guests who want to journal abouttheir journey.
The room feels like a set now. Pristine. Staged. Everything perfectly fake. The only real thing left in it is me and this notebook.
I start writing. Planning.
They want compelling television? I’ll give them compelling television.
They want drama? They want a moment that’ll have people talking for years?
Fine.
But it’s going to be on my terms. And it’s going to be real.
I think about Wren, probably getting to Jay’s house right now, trying to pretend that her heart isn’t in pieces. I thinkabout how she looked at me tonight, like I was a stranger. Like everything between us had been a lie.
I need her to know it wasn’t a lie. None of it was.
The finale is in two weeks. That’s when Elena said they’re bringing her back. Two weeks to figure out how to fix this, how to make it right, how to show her and the entire world that what we have is real.
I start making lists. People I can trust. Ways to communicate without my phone. Loopholes in my contract that might give me some wiggle room.
There’s a clause about “off-screen family contact in emergencies.” Maybe there’s a way in through that door. Maybe I just need to find the right emergency.
It’s not going to be easy. These people are professionals at manipulation and control. They’ve been playing this game a lot longer than I have.
But they made one mistake. They assumed I care more about money and fame than I do about Wren.
They’re about to find out how wrong they are.
I write for an hour, filling page after page with ideas, backup plans, contingencies. By the time I’m done, it’s quite late. I have the skeleton of something that might actually work.
It’s risky. If I’m wrong about any part of it, I could lose everything. My career, my reputation, my future.
But if I’m right, if I can pull this off, then maybe I can get Wren back. Maybe I can show her that what happened tonight wasn’t my choice. That everything I told her was true.
That I love her.
I close the notebook and hide it in the bottom of my suitcase, underneath clothes I haven’t worn. Tomorrow, the cameras will be back. Tomorrow, I’ll have to pretend to be heartbroken about eliminating Wren while also pretending to be excited about the remaining women.
I’ll have to lie to everyone, including myself, for two more weeks.
But it’ll be worth it. Because at the finale, when Elena brings Wren back, I’m going to tell her everything. On camera, in front of millions of people, I’m going to tell her exactly what happened tonight and why I had to choose someone else.
And then I’m going to choose her. For real this time.
I just hope she still wants to be chosen.
