30. Thirty

thirty

GINGER

In timeout for the night, I pick up my phone for the millionth time and open Kat’s most recent text. The message comes through before the image does. Guess you didn’t mess things up too bad after all.

The accompanying photo sucks all the air from my chest.

Elliot and Cassie kissing on the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower.

What the hell ? If he were kissing Jenna, maybe I could have accepted that—fine—it’s the inevitable ending anyway, but Cassie ? What did I miss?

Jealousy burns my chest like a hot branding iron searing my rib cage. The emotional roller-coaster ride I’ve been on for weeks finally flies completely off the tracks. I want to scream, and I want to cry, and I want to beat the shit out of both of them.

Not only could this fuck up the ending, but I was under the impression that all the feelings he had about any of the women on the show were completely overshadowed by what the two of us have been sneaking around to do together. But maybe I was only one of many diversions, and he’s been catching real feelings for Cassie the whole time. It would explain the macarons and Kat’s involvement, and maybe Cassie was the reason Elliot was so irritated Jenna came back—because she’d take his attention away from this .

I toss my phone aside and stalk to the window. The tip of the Eiffel Tower is just visible over the roofline.

It can’t be that easy for him, can it? To get into the spirit of the show after resisting it for weeks? Is this all that had to happen? I had to get out of the way? Or in this case—be forced out of the way. Have I been what’s held him back this whole time?

Kat sends me one more photo of Elliot and Cassie snuggled close, taking a selfie on the esplanade with all of Paris in the background. I should flush my phone down the toilet. Cool twist! is all Kat’s next text says.

I need to seriously rethink our friendship after this. Along with most of my life choices.

Kat redeems herself with her follow-up text. You okay?

I don’t respond. A yes or no answer seems too limiting. Will I be okay? Sure. This is how the show is supposed to go. Thinking it would turn out any other way was an exercise in futility. It was only a matter of time before Elliot came to terms with reality.

I told him to wake up, and he listened. I was never a real option for him anyway, and even if I were—he choose someone else anyway. I’m too driven—too career obsessed for a man so ready to settle in for a real future. I put my job and the show before everything.

All I know tonight—all there is to know in the whole world—is that I’m more in love with him than I ever dreamed possible. I want him so badly I’d throw myself in front of a moving train to get his attention. The only question left to answer isn’t whether I’m okay or not—I’m not—it’s can I do this? Am I strong enough, savvy enough, driven enough to act as if he never meant anything to me?

Because what do we have, exactly? A purely physical arrangement. He gets off, I get off, we go our separate ways. So why is it so hard to imagine having something similar with anyone else on the planet? I can hardly stand the thought of standing next to another man, much less kissing someone else on the Eiffel Tower.

But he did. Because he’s ready to find his forever person, and his options are beautiful and lovely and successful, and as ready for it as he is.

An overwhelming feeling brews inside me as I pace the floor—a sensation like a dam about to burst. I can’t stand it. Before I do something totally off the wall like get on a plane and leave the life I built for myself behind, I need to know one thing—who the fuck is Elliot Hale? The man who kissed Cassie on the Eiffel Tower? Or the man who fed me strawberries and told me he loved me not three days ago?

Everyone should be back at the hotel by now. I force myself into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. I’m planning to text him to let him know I’m headed for his room, but he beats me by one second with a phone call.

“Can I come to your room?” he asks.

“I’m in two-eighteen.”

It’s a risk, but I need to know who I fell for so that whatever decision I make next will be totally informed. I’ve been way too stupid this season. I can’t afford any more mistakes.

His knock comes minutes later. Checking first to make sure it’s Elliot, I open the door to let him inside, closing and locking it behind him. He’s still wearing the navy-blue shirt Cassie had her hands all over in the photo. “Did anybody see you?”

“I don’t think so...hey—” He reaches for me, but I step away. “I miss you,” he says but lets his arms drop.

“That’s not how it looked tonight.”

His gaze goes all suspicious. “How do you know how it looked tonight?”

“Kat sent pictures.”

He hangs his head, sighing heavily. “Of course she did—listen—about that?—”

I wave a hand between us. “It’s not important. I want to know whether you meant what you said.”

“To Cassie?”

“To me .”

“Which part?” He takes a big step toward me, his hand stroking my arm.

I want to hold it still, keep it there, never let it go.

“Yes,” he says. “To whichever part. I’ve meant everything I ever said to you. What’s wrong?”

He sounds like he means it, but I can’t let myself melt. I’ve been doing way too much melting lately. But I have to be honest.

“When I saw that picture of you kissing her, I thought I was gonna die, Elliot. I didn’t know if... God ...” I can’t finish.

He’s breaking me, and I hardly believe I allowed it to happen. Never have I ever let someone get to me like this. Clutching the fabric of my sweatshirt above my heart, I tug at it, because everything hurts, especially that particular area.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Oh fuck, here it comes. I’m not ready. Letting him come to my room was a mistake. Another one. Will I ever learn my lesson? “Then talk,” I snap.

He’s taken off guard. “You’re upset,” he says, acknowledging the painfully obvious.

“Well— yeah .”

“I wasn’t expecting that.” He fidgets, shifting his weight and eventually shoving his hands into his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

My legs weaken from all the emotions I can’t help but repress. Or maybe it’s the long day, jet lag— whatever. I let my weight sink to the bed.

“What is this?” He remains standing, frozen in place.

It takes me a minute, but eventually, the harsh wave of emotion recedes. “You don’t care how all this ends, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kat thinks you’re only looking for a broodmare.”

“I’m not sure I know what that is.” Like he’s settling in for another round of banter, he leans his hip against the dresser.

“It’s a woman to bear your children.”

He grins. “I might have put something like that on the application.”

“I don’t even think I want kids,” I say.

“No?”

I shake my head, looking up at him with as much honesty as possible.

“How come?”

“I can barely take care of myself. Six out of seven days a week, I don’t even eat breakfast or lunch. And I usually have takeout for dinner.”

“Kids love takeout.”

“I’m never home. I’d be an awful mother, and the thought of a human growing inside me...it kinda grosses me out.”

A quiet laugh puffs through his lips. “Well, you’re right. I do want kids eventually. Not sure about a broodmare, though.”

My stomach acid churns up again. I cover my mouth to prevent anything from coming out—words or otherwise. I need to get my shit together—pack it up, put it in a pile, and get it the fuck together. “So it’s Cassie then? Not Jenna?”

“Cassie and I talked?—”

“No, I know... I know. And I know you’ve liked her since the beginning.”

“I have, but?—”

“Jenna was a mistake,” I cut in. “I know that now. She’s a distraction, and it’s extra drama you didn’t need, and I swear to God, I didn’t mean for it to get so complicated.”

“Jenna’s not what made this complicated,” he says.

“You’re right.” I fold my hands in my lap. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck.” He gives up standing and plops down in front of me, tugging my hands off my lap to grip them tightly in his. “What are you freaking out about?”

“Are you falling for her?”

“For Cassie?” He gives his head a firm shake. “No.”

“It’s okay if you are. You can tell me. It’s my job, right?”

“ Is it okay? Because if you told me you were falling for Matt, I’m pretty sure I’d want to take his head off.”

“You kissed her,” I remind him.

“She tried to kiss me—first of all. Nothing happened. You can watch the tape. And we have a plan.”

Wait. “What?”

“I told her about us.”

I shove his hands away like they turned into snakes. “You did what?”

“I had to. She was about to leave.”

“So? Why didn’t you let her?”

“Because she’s cool, and I need someone to go to the end with me so I don’t wind up in premarital counseling with Jenna for the next six months.”

The final remnant of my control over the situation evaporates in an instant. “What are you doing, Elliot?”

“Creating a loophole.”

“No.” I sit up straight, a sudden realization sharpening my focus, making me see everything as clearly as I did in the Redwoods when I burst into Davis’s trailer. “That’s not what you’re doing. What are you afraid is gonna happen if you stop putting people between you and Jenna?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and in the gap of silence his hesitation creates, the truth hits me hard. All the things The Panel said—how hurt Elliot was when Jenna rejected him last season—how he all but threw himself into my arms and then Cassie’s... “You’re trying to make her jealous.”

He remains nonchalant, unruffled by the accusation. “I don’t want her here. I told you that. Whether she gets jealous or not isn’t on my radar.”

“Are you planning to tell her about you and me, too?” I ask.

“What? No.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret anymore.”

“I thought you wanted to keep your job.”

“What job? Watching you grope other women while I wait for my next chance to suck your dick? Fuck this job. I don’t want anything to do with it anymore.” Pressing both hands into the mattress, I shove myself to my feet, stumbling to step around him.

“I’m not sure Jenna’s jealousy is the issue here,” he mumbles.

“And fuck you, too, Elliot. This meeting’s over. You can go.”

He stands, turning to face me as he smoothes the front of his pants. “You’re all over the place.”

“That’s because I was trying to figure out what to do, but I think I know now.”

“What? What are you gonna do?”

“I’m leaving.”

His expression hardens, but the fight doesn’t leave his eyes. “So now all of a sudden you’re okay with losing your job?”

“Marlon won’t fire me. I have a plan.” I won’t be the first person in the world to fake a family emergency.

“What about us?” he asks.

“Us?”

“You and me. Where does that leave us if you go?”

I give him a flat stare. “Same place we’ve always been. Nowhere.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that. You’re obviously upset for various reasons, which you can’t settle on, so I’m gonna go ahead and act like you didn’t say the meanest thing imaginable.”

I throw my hands up. I’ve reached my emotional limit. “What do you want me to say? That I have feelings for you? That I want to see where this goes? What good would that do either of us at this point? It’s over. It’s been over since before it started.”

“This isn’t real, Ginger!” He gestures at the room, or more widely at the hotel or Paris. His voice steps up in volume. “This is all bullshit. It’s fake. It’s a TV show.” He points at the floor. “What’s happening here is real—it is for me at least—it has been since day one. I think about you all day, I dream about you—I love you. Have I not been clear enough about that?”

“The contracts you signed weren’t fake. They’re as real as it gets. When you came back to the show, you eliminated me as an option.”

“You weren’t interested!”

“You were coming back on the fucking show!”

“Is that was this is about? The fact that I came back?”

Yes! “Why did you do it? If you wanted me, why did you come to the only place in the world where you couldn’t have me?”

“Because I gave up ! I wanted a guarantee. I couldn’t live with the goddamn uncertainty of will she pick me, will she write back—did it mean anything? I was sick of pouring my heart into something and having it shoved back in my face. I didn’t want to feel this .” He gestures between the two of us before turning away to drive both hands through his hair.

My heart breaks. Again. “Then why? Why go after me the way you did?”

“Because when I saw you again...I couldn’t help myself.”

Neither could I.

I’ve never fought an enemy as powerful as my attraction to Elliot Hale. Losing was a forgone conclusion. Falling under his spell was no big surprise, but if physical attraction were all there was to it, I would have had more than my fill of him by now. The problem is—there’s more. Way more. And that’s been the biggest surprise.

But something has to give. I’ll ruin the show if I stay, but that isn’t what scares me. I’m afraid the show will ruin me. The only thing I can do to save everything is leave. Paris, the show, Elliot.

I know it’s the right thing because it’s the hardest to imagine. Every molecule of my body resists the notion.

But it will get easier. As the days and distance between us grows, the pain will fade, my memories of him will dim, and something will rise up to take their place. Another show, maybe even another love. An opportunity to have it all. It’s never been this.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I hope you can still find what you’re looking for.”

He stares back at me in disbelief. “I have.”

I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. “No. You want kids, and a normal life, and a house, and a guaranteed plus one. I’m not that girl. I don’t want those things—we’re in two totally different places.”

“Then I’ll meet you where you’re at.” He eliminates the distance between us with one step, taking hold of both my arms. “Ginger—for fuck’s sake, tell me we have a chance. Don’t give up.”

“You gave up. It’s why you’re here, right? You understand.” I shrug out of his grip, stepping away. It’s literally the hardest thing my body’s ever had to accomplish, including the time I tried to surf. This isn’t like trying to catch a tide, though. It’s like trying to reverse one.

He stands frozen, shaken, and silent.

I turn my back on him. His wrecked face is too much to take. “I hope you give Jenna a chance. I hope you stop hiding behind Cassie because she’s great, but despite what you’ve said all along, you came here for a great love. And she came back for you.”

His exhale is sharp and powerful. Incredulous.

“You can still find what you’re looking for out of all this, Elliot. But I won’t be here to watch it.”

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