Heart Improvement: A Brooklyn Heights Bachelor Romance

Chapter 35 - Chelsea

Vivien ushers everyone except us into a separate conference room. As soon as we are out of sight of the crew, we head in separate directions. I go to my room to get changed.

I’m not riding home on the subway in a wedding dress. One day there was a wedding at the church on Henry Street. The wedding party was taking pictures on the steps. People stopped to watch and call out well wishes. I could not bear it if strangers started congratulating us.

I scrub my face until it hurts. There are about a million bobby pins in my hair. I’ve taken out four when there is a knock at the door. I look through the peephole. It’s Scott. I open the door automatically.

“We don’t have to leave together,” I say. He shifts his weight back and forth between his feet. I sigh. I guess it’s up to me to make all the decisions. “But I guess we should. Keep up appearances.”

I walk away from him, leaving the door open. I hear it close. I go back to hunting through my hair. Then I try to brush it, but it’s so full of hair spray it’s practically shellacked. I give up and just kind of poke it into a reasonable shape.

“I’m ready,” I say.

He hasn’t moved from the door. I pick my dress up off the bed. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it. Maybe a year from now when I need money for tuition, I’ll sell it. Maybe then it won’t hurt so much anymore. Until then, into the very back of the closet it goes.

The, admittedly gorgeous, bouquet of roses is on the bed. I sling the dress over my shoulder and pick them up. Scott is empty handed.

“What happened to your tux?” I ask, mostly to fill the silence.

He shrugs.

“They said to leave it in the room. Part of the package.”

The last word comes out like a sneer. There is an unmistakable edge in his voice. It’s razor sharp. He sounds tremendously bitter.

This is not my fault,I think at him. He was the one with the bright idea to pretend to be engaged. I won’t pretend I’m blameless, but I won’t accept his hostility.

“Almost done though?” I remind him, then jump as the door slams shut behind us. He looks at me. “We film the reveal on Monday and then it’s over.”

He winces, then nods.

We get on the elevator. This is absolute torture. Even if we only have one day of filming left.

“Scott?”

He turns to me. His eyes look the same as always. Warm. Kind. I’ve been imagining them as cold and evil.

“Can we just…”

“What?”

I think I detect a note of anticipation in his voice. Oh no. No, I tell myself firmly. I’m not up for more meaningless—great, but meaningless—sex. I have to make that clear right now.

I stick out my hand. Unfortunately, it’s the one with the bouquet in it. He takes it.

“No hard feelings?”

He blinks once, then again.

“Okay.”