Chapter Thirty-Four Carys
Or at least, that’s what I thought. There’s a knock on the door, just as I closed it, and my heart thrills with possibility.
Has Dolly run back across, refusing to say goodbye? Is she going to choose me?
I fling the door open, my heart leaping out of my chest, and I see Dolly across the hall with her door open too.
There’s no way she could have knocked on my door.
Instead, between us in the corridor, is Bridget. ‘Evening, ladies,’ she says. ‘I’ll make this quick.’
Dolly’s eyes are wide with warning. Something is up here, she can tell.
‘Hi, Bridge,’ I say, slurring my words on purpose a bit. ‘Dolly and I walked home together.’
‘Cut the act, Carys,’ she says firmly. ‘There’s been enough lying. I know you two are together.’
Dolly has gone completely white.
No, she can’t know. She can’t have seen. We’ve been so careful, haven’t we?
‘Together?’ I say cutely, playing the fool on purpose. ‘Yeah, we walked home.’
‘No. You’ve been fucking this whole time,’ Bridget snaps. ‘Behind everyone’s backs.’
I’m making her angry, but I can’t give up. She has to understand. ‘You— you’ve misunderstood,’ I stammer.
Bridget looks at me, more sad than angry.
‘No, I’ve not. I’ve seen how you two have looked at each other the whole time.
How overnight you fell out, moved rooms and stopped being besties.
The way you looked when you left the bathroom on the honeymoon.
All of it. I’ve seen it, and I can’t pretend like I haven’t anymore.
It’s not right. And I don’t buy that this is a fight over Patrick. ’
‘Please, don’t tell him,’ I beg. ‘Please, Bridget. It’s over now. Dolly and I have squashed it. Tell her, Dolly.’
‘It’s over now,’ Dolly agrees, and it feels like a sucker punch to my chest.
‘That may be the truth,’ Bridget continues. ‘But that doesn’t change what I’ve come here to talk to you about. We’re going to make a deal.’
My blood fizzes like melting sherbet. ‘A deal?’
‘You two are going to say no at the altar. Both of you. That way, neither of you get married.’
‘And that puts you in second place behind Whit and Malachi,’ Dolly finishes. ‘You don’t get the nest egg, but you might get the clout.’
‘Lina and Zack are hardly competition. It’s just you four.’ She shrugs like this is nothing. ‘I knew you were a game-player, Dolly. Too bad you spent all your energy cheating on your fiancé instead of using that brain to beat me.’
‘And what if we say no?’ Dolly’s teeth are gritted.
‘I tell production that you were sleeping together the whole time,’ Bridget says calmly. ‘I’m pretty sure the show doesn’t take kindly to cheating. You’d all be ejected from the show, and the media would be informed, I’m sure.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ I gasp. ‘Bridget, you can’t do that to me. I thought you were my friend.’
‘You fucking scumbag,’ Dolly hisses. ‘You worm. Carys isn’t even out. You want to do that to her? You want to take that from her? It should be her choice when she gets to tell people, if ever. You don’t understand what you’re doing.’
‘I understand perfectly, and I don’t want to out you,’ Bridget says, like she’s talking to two unruly children. ‘So if you just agree to my deal, we won’t have to even consider that.’
‘Forgive me if I don’t believe a jot of that,’ Dolly spits. ‘Lina warned me not to trust you, and I should have listened. You’re a fucking snake.’
Bridget sighs like she’s getting fed up of this.
‘The fact is, girls, you two broke the rules. We should all have been fined for your finger-fucking or whatever lesbians get up to.’ She says lesbians in the same way that I’ve heard that beautiful word weaponised my whole life; spat, with disdain.
‘And I doubt that Warren and Patrick are all-in on this side project you’ve got going on. ’
‘I thought you were my friend,’ I whimper, just as Dolly snarls, ‘Fuck you.’
‘I think there’s been quite enough of that for one series,’ Bridget says, admiring her manicure. ‘Now, do we have a deal?’
‘I do not make it my business to make deals with homophobes,’ Dolly rages.
‘Stop calling me a homophobe. I’m not a fucking homophobe!’ yells Bridget, and I think, deep down, she believes it. It’s funny the things you can believe about yourself even in the face of glaring evidence. ‘I just refuse to lose to you fakers! What Jackson and I have is actually real.’
‘Please stop shouting, or someone is going to hear,’ I beg, my hands shaking. ‘Please, Bridget. You can’t do this to us.’
‘Carys.’ She spins round to face me, and tries to take my hands in hers, but I step backwards away from her, stumbling into the wall.
‘Don’t touch me,’ I snap. ‘Don’t fucking touch me. I can’t believe you’ve done this.’
I burst into racking sobs, and sink to the floor, just as Patrick and Warren storm down the corridor.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Patrick says, wrapping his arms around me.
The worst part is that I can see all the fight go out of Dolly. ‘We were just having a conversation,’ she says.
‘All’s fair in love and television,’ Bridget says, striding off down the corridor.
I barely register Patrick lifting me and guiding me back into the flat, tucking me in bed, because I can’t stop hysterically crying. He keeps asking me what she said, but how can I even begin to tell him?
What the fuck am I supposed to do?