Page 117 of The Love Rematch
She laughs softly to herself. Jake gives her a questioning look, but she shakes her head and absently watches the interview. Not even six months ago, she was sitting on this very couch, alone and afraid and in complete denial. Now, her dream business is thriving. Her love life is looking way up. And though her fear is still there, she’s not letting it dictate her life anymore.
Emily flew straight to New York from the Maldives for that blood test. Thankfully, it came back normal. But instead of stuffing her health issues in that little box at the back of her mind the way she usually did, she also met with her fertility specialist while she was there. They discussed the status of her nineteen little eggs, next steps when she was ready, and the probabilities of success. Jake was by her side the entire time, holding her hand and helping her through it.
After New York, he went to LA and she returned to Georgia. Jake wanted to move home with her, but Emily wouldn’t let him. There were too many people who would see them and know they were back together—news that would inevitably make its way to the gossip magazines while her season was airing. They’d made so many mistakes in the past. She wanted to do things right this time. Despite the distance, he’s been there for her—calling, emailing, texting, his presence proving to be the steady, solid support she needs to face the future head-on, whatever it entails. He even helped her find a support group in LA for women facing similar fertility issues. Her first meeting is set for next week, hard as that is to believe.
After months of waiting, her cross-country move is almost here. In another hour and twenty-three minutes, the show will finally be over, which means her life with Jake can officially begin.
“I think she’s enjoying this,” he mutters as, on screen, backed by swaying palm trees and rolling ocean waves, Sam tells Ethan he’s a self-centered asshole who should probably go to therapy to figure out why he derives so much pleasure from deceiving women on national television. Oh, and that, duh, he’s not her perfect match and he isn’t worth the earwax she picked on her Q-tip before meeting him for their date that morning.
Emily cringes at the visual.Ew.
Jake grins. “She’s definitely enjoying this.”
“She really is a better Emily than I am.”
“No, she’s just…”
“Sam,” they say in unison as the crystal waters of the Maldives slowly fade to reveal Sam on the couch with a shit-eating grin and Ethan now seated beside her with a glare. Keith looks like a kid on Christmas morning as he dives in on the interview.
“So, Emily, Ethan went from being one of your final two choices to complete pond scum seemingly overnight. What changed for you when you arrived in the Maldives?”
“Nothing changed,” Sam offers and shines a hundred-watt smile at Keith. Her entire demeanor shifts as she turns to face Ethan and wrinkles her nose derisively, as if he’s not even worth the effort of a proper glare. “I just finally learned to see past his bullshit. Oh, sorry. Can I saybullshitlive on national television? My bad. Let me put it this way. He’s a liar and a con who got off on fooling me into believing I was in love. All he cared about was looking good on TV, so he could fool even more women into believing his massive ego is worth stroking. And between you and me—” She turns back to Keith and leans in conspiringly. “That’s the only big thing about him.”
“Hey, now,” Ethan starts.
Keith cuts him off. “And what made you come to this realization?”
“It was the morning he met my family before our date,” Sam answers. She widens her eyes and pouts her lips in a sad puppy-dog expression that manages to come off sympathetic yet somehow fierce. Emily knows it well. She spent her teenage years trying to copy it to no avail.
The viewers will eat it up the same way everyone else always has.
“I was sitting there next to my sister while he attempted to charm my parents,” Sam continues. “And I had this thought.I bet he can’t even tell us apart.It was the way his eyes kept sliding over us as he spoke with my father. The way he accidentally messed our names up more than once. I mean, yes, we’re twins. But I’d expect my fiancé to be able to tell us apart, instead of staring blankly in our general direction and waiting for me to announce myself. And then he asked my mother about cookies, of all things. She’s a horrible baker! Sorry, Mom. And I realized he didn’t remember she’s a florist. After all of our dates, and all of our conversations, he couldn’t even remember this basic fact about my family. In his misogynistic mind, cookies and flowers may as well be the same. And everything clicked. He didn’t wantme. He wanted fame. He wanted fan adoration. He wanted followers. I could see the next three months of my life play out. I could see the two of us here on this stage, me heartbroken while he vied to become the next lead of the show. And I decided I wasn’t going to be used by him any longer. Something I think a lot of the women in the audience tonight and watching at home can understand.”
Uproarious applause drowns out the sound stage. Emily grins. She can practically see the dollar signs in Nina’s and Trish’s eyes from wherever they’re watching off screen.
“Hey, did you ever hear from Nina?” she asks, turning from the interview to look at Jake.
He shakes his head. “Not since the note.”
Emily nods, unsurprised. When they checked out of the airport hotel the morning after her swap with Sam, an anonymous note had been waiting at the front desk for Jake. It readI’ll miss your embarrassingly white ass cheeks, Jackson. It’s been fun co-conspiring with you. Tell Emily I said good luck with her “cavity.” Call me in six months when this is over. We’ll grab a coffee. - Your favorite platypus
Emily hasn’t quite forgiven Nina for what she did in taking Jake’s letter, but she doesn’t quite blame her either. Hell, maybe she’ll join them for that coffee in three months. Holding on to the past never got her anywhere. And besides, they both gained what they wanted in the end. Nina found the star she needed to close the season in Sam, and Emily reclaimed her happily ever after with Jake—no cameras allowed. Well, no cameras except for his, which sits a few feet away on a taped-up box, having already been retired after a long day of catching her mumble profanity while she struggled with the tape dispenser, kicked a roll of bubble wrap, and finally faced her junk drawer. Junk cabinet. Fine—junk closet!
Apparently, these were memories they were going to want to look back on fifty years from now, or so Jake claimed before a look from Emily finally convinced him to turn the dang thing off. Though, in hindsight, he was being rather cute.
Emily snuggles a little deeper into Jake’s side as Ethan is led off screen in what might as well be a body bag with how thoroughly Sam has chewed him up and spit him back out.
“One down, one to go,” Jake mutters.
The air in the studio shifts as Cooper walks onto the stage. The audience hushes. Sam perks up and licks her lips with an almost yearning twinkle in her eyes. It’s an expression Emily has never seen on her sister’s face before—soft, almost gooey, as the cowboy hovers on the other side of the stage. His eyes are fiercely focused on her. His expression is inscrutable. There’s palpable tension in the air. Even through the television screen, Emily can sense the atmosphere thicken. Then—
The show cuts to a commercial break.
Emily groans.
“Did you…” Jake trails off.
Emily finishes his thought. “Pick up on the intense sexual vibes between Sam and Cooper?”
