Chapter 45 #2
Despite everything, I crack a small smile. “Thanks. I think.”
“That’s the spirit.” Jennifer claps her hands together. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. We have a lot of work to do.”
The next two hours pass in a blur. Jennifer works magic with concealer and foundation, hiding the evidence of my week-long breakdown.
She does my eyes in soft, smoky colors that make them look bigger and brighter than they’ve ever looked.
My hair gets styled into loose waves that fall over one shoulder, elegant but not trying too hard.
The dress fits perfectly. Better than perfectly, actually. It hugs my curves in all the right places and makes me look like someone who belongs at a finale taping. Someone who deserves to be there.
“Wren,” Calla says when I emerge from the bathroom fully dressed. “You look stunning.”
I catch sight of myself in the mirror and barely recognize the woman looking back at me. I look strong. Confident. Beautiful.
I look like someone Ryan Haart might actually choose.
“I don’t even look like myself. I look… like someone that expects to be chosen.”
Jennifer nods approvingly. “Trust me, you’re going to win.”
The limo ride to the mansion feels surreal. Jennifer comes with me, chattering about behind-the-scenes gossip and trying to keep me distracted, but my mind is racing. What is Ryan planning? What am I walking into?
As we get closer, doubt creeps back in. What if I’m wrong about this? What if Ryan really did just move on and this is some twisted consolation prize?
The mansion is all lights and cameras when we arrive. There’s a red carpet set up for the eliminated contestants. I can see photographers snapping pictures as women in evening gowns pose and smile.
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“You’ve got this,” Jennifer whispers as we get out of the limo. “Remember, you look incredible. Hold your head up.”
I walk through the back hallway like I’m floating. Or maybe drowning. Everything feels distant and unreal. A few crew members nod at me, but mostly I’m invisible. Just another eliminated contestant coming back for the finale.
Hana appears at my elbow as I’m trying to find my seat. “I’m so glad you came,” she whispers, squeezing my hand.
“Yeah,” I manage. “Me too.”
The eliminated contestants are seated in a section off to the side of the main stage. I find my assigned seat and settle in, keeping my posture straight and my face carefully neutral. I’m not going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart again.
The lights dim and the taping begins. Rich takes the stage with his usual polished enthusiasm, talking about love and second chances and the journey we’ve all been on. I barely listen. I’m too busy trying not to look at the stage where I know Ryan will appear any minute.
When he does, my heart stops.
He looks good. Too good. His hair is perfect, his suit is perfectly tailored. But there are shadows under his eyes that makeup couldn’t quite hide. A tension in his jaw that speaks to sleepless nights. He’s standing with his back straight, but I can see the way his hands are clenched at his sides.
He looks like a man who’s been through hell.
Our eyes meet across the room. I feel that familiar electric shock that always happens when he looks at me. But this time, there’s something different in his expression. Something desperate and determined and almost wild.
He starts to move toward me during the first commercial break, but a producer intercepts him before he can get close. I watch as they have a tense, whispered conversation. Then Ryan is dragged back to his mark on stage, but not before I see him mouth something that looks like “wait.”
He keeps looking at me. Every chance he gets, his eyes find mine.
My stomach is doing flips, but I force myself to stay calm. To stay controlled. I’m not going to make a scene. I’m not going to give anyone more ammunition to use against me.
The ceremony continues. Raven is brought out, radiant in a white gown that makes her look like a princess. She’s glowing with happiness and anticipation. I can barely stand to look at her. Not because I hate her, but because she’s about to get everything I wanted.
Rich begins his final monologue about love and commitment and finding your person. The audience leans forward in anticipation. This is it. This is the moment everyone’s been waiting for.
Ryan is supposed to get down on one knee. He’s supposed to propose to Raven and they’re supposed to live happily ever after.
I brace myself for it. This is the final blow, and I just need to get through it. Let it come. Let it be over.
But Ryan doesn’t kneel.
He starts to lower himself, then stops. Straightens. His eyes find mine across the room.
He doesn’t reach for the ring box that Rich is holding out to him.
Instead, he stands tall and looks directly into the audience. Directly at me.
Rich falters. “Ryan?”
The crowd starts to murmur. The energy in the room shifts, becomes electric with confusion and anticipation.
Ryan takes a step forward, away from Raven, away from Rich, away from the script they’ve all been following.
“I was never supposed to let her go,” he says, and his voice carries clearly through the suddenly silent room.
I hear someone behind the cameras yell “What the fuck?” A headset hits the floor with a clatter.
The cameras whip around to find me in the audience. I feel the heat of the lights on my face, the weight of hundreds of eyes staring at me, but I can’t move. Can’t breathe.
Ryan steps off the stage.
He walks toward me with purpose in every step, ignoring the chaos erupting around him. Producers are scrambling. Rich is trying to regain control. Raven is standing frozen on stage, her face cycling through shock, confusion, and something that might be understanding.
Ryan ignores all of it.
“Wren Rustin,” he says when he’s close enough that I can see the gold flecks in his eyes. “I’m in love with you.”
The words hit me right in the chest. After everything that’s happened, after all the doubt and pain and confusion, hearing him say it like that, in front of everyone, makes my heart start beating again.
“I let them take you from me,” he continues, and his voice is rough with emotion. “I didn’t fight hard enough. But I’m not making that mistake again.”
Rich is trying to interrupt, trying to salvage the show, but Ryan doesn’t even glance in his direction.
“I love your wit,” he says, looking only at me. “I love your quiet strength. I love the way you notice details that nobody else sees. I love that you looked at the worst parts of me and didn’t flinch.”
I’m crying now. I can feel the tears sliding down my cheeks, probably ruining Jennifer’s perfect makeup job, but I don’t care.
“The last ten days have been hell without you,” Ryan says. “I don’t care about the money. I don’t care about the show. I don’t care about any of it. I just want you.”
The silence in the room is deafening. Every eye is on us, every camera is recording, but it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he says quietly. “You don’t owe me anything. But I needed you to know. I choose you. Always.”
I sit there for what feels like forever, trying to process what just happened. Ryan just blew up his entire contract, his entire career, for me. He just chose me in front of millions of people, in the most public way possible.
Finally, I stand up on shaky legs.
I walk toward him. With each step, I feel more certain. More sure of what I want and who I want to be.
When I’m close enough to touch him, I stop.
“You complete disaster of a human being,” I say, and my voice cracks on the words.
Then I kiss him.
I kiss him like my life depends on it, like he’s the air I need to breathe. I bury my hands in his hair and pour everything I’ve been feeling into that kiss. All the love and pain and hope and fear and desperate, overwhelming relief.
The audience erupts. People are screaming and cheering and crying. Even Rich looks like he’s tearing up.
When we finally break apart, Ryan cups my face in his hands.
“I love you, too,” I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ve always loved you.”
He grins, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Let’s get out of here.”
I nod, still crying, still smiling, still not quite able to believe this is real.
As we walk toward the exit hand in hand, I can hear the chaos behind us. Producers rushing to figure out how to salvage the show. Cameras trying to follow us. Rich attempting to wrap up the taping.
But none of it matters anymore.
Because Ryan chose me. Really chose me. Not because he was supposed to, not because it made good television, but because he loves me.
And I finally believe it.
It was never fake. None of it was fake.
We don’t need the show. We just need each other.