34. Off The Grid #2
“You what?”
“No one got keys, Brielle.” His voice softens. “I couldn’t. Not when I was still in love with you.”
My heart performs a gymnastics routine in my chest. But I’ve been here before.
I’ve heard Hayes say beautiful things and then watched him send me home, anyway.
“You eliminated me,” I remind him, hating the tremor in my voice.
“After telling me that before. You looked me in the eye and chose someone else.”
“I know.” Agony flashes across his face. “I had to.”
“Why?” I finally get to ask the question that’s haunted me for days. “Why did you do it?”
Hayes takes a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the weathered boards of the deck. “After the wine incident, Darren called me in for a meeting. He told me they were going to air everything—the beach footage, the photo, Luna’s accusations, all of it. As you would say, it’d be ‘ratings gold.’”
A cold weight settles in my stomach. “So it was about the scandal.”
“Yes. Darren offered me a deal—he’d bury the footage if I eliminated you that night.”
I gasp. “He was going to air that? That would put his own ass on the line.”
“Yeah.” Hayes sighs, explaining everything to me.
Darren told the network that the photo was leaked, so they wanted to air the footage to get ahead of the scandal.
Plus, it was so juicy, it was a risk they wanted to take.
But that, in the end, it wasn’t leaked at all.
Darren had paid the family for it and then gave it to Luna.
Then Skye roasted him for it with an affidavit and everything. Go, Skye!
Hayes looks up, his eyes haunted. “I wanted to protect you, your professional reputation. And with you staying, you’d be in hell since the other women had turned against you. Social media would be brutal.”
I blink, fighting to process it all. “You’re right—if Darren had aired that with edited footage that made me the lying, conniving villain, it would’ve had massive implications on me and my career.”
“Yes.” Hayes steps closer, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, smell the faint pine scent clinging to his clothes. “And August too. Darren threatened to edit the footage so I looked like I was playing favorites from day one, that the whole journey was rigged.”
The manipulation is so obvious in retrospect, but I understand how it would have worked on Hayes—the devoted father, the widower still carrying guilt about his wife’s death.
“So you sent me home to protect your son,” I say, softening slightly. “And me.”
“Yes..”
Something lifts from my chest. “So you didn’t send me home because of my sister?”
“Couldn’t be further from the truth,” he says earnestly. “But Brielle, there’s something else you need to know. About me, before Tyler comes out with the camera on.”
“Okay.” I wait, steeling myself against whatever revelation is coming.
“When Sarah died,” he begins, his voice tight with emotion, “it was because she was picking August up from T-ball practice, as you know. But what you don’t know is that the pickup was something I was supposed to do but couldn’t because of a last-minute photography gig.
A big client, good money, and something I thought I couldn’t pass up.
” His eyes shine with unshed tears. “She called me, said she’d handle it.
She always handled it when I couldn’t make it, which was too often.
And on the way, a drunk driver ran a red light and hit her car. ”
“Hayes,” I whisper, my anger dissolving in the face of his pain.
“After that, I made a vow. I’d never again put anything ahead of those I loved. That I wouldn’t let them down.” His voice cracks. “Then, with you, I was forced to let you down. Again, I did it again . And it’s been killing me inside.”
I understand now—the weight he’s been carrying, the impossible choice he faced. “But you did it to protect me. To protect August. That was putting us first. Now that I know why you did what you did, I’d ask you to do the same thing, all over again.”
“Really?” A sparkle returns to his eye.
“Of course I would. In an impossible situation, you put us first. Above your own wants and desires.”
“Only you.” He smiles.
“Only me what?”
“Could make me see it in a way that makes sense. That makes it all okay. With your big brain and bigger heart.”
I smile, cupping my hand on his cheek. “It’s just the truth, Hayes,” I say, my voice barely audible over the mountain breeze. “So, what do we do now?”
Hayes’s hand twitches at his side, like he wants to reach for me but is restraining himself.
“Well, to finish my recap of events—they whisked us off to St. Sebastian for fantasy suite dates, and I just went through the motions. I didn’t get intimate with any of the women.
Actually, Serena and Annabelle were pulling for you. ”
“Wow, really?” That makes me so happy. I hope I didn’t lose two people I’ve come to love and appreciate.
“Really, Brielle.”
The pieces of the puzzle start falling into place, and I say, “So, what about the finale?”
A ghost of a smile touches Hayes’s lips. “There hasn’t been one—yet.”
Comprehension dawns, and my heart starts galloping in my chest.
Hayes goes to the door and calls Tyler to come outside, and he shows up instantly, camera on his shoulder.
Hayes takes one step closer to me, then another, until we’re standing toe to toe.
“I’m so proud of you, Brielle. I admire you so much, and you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in someone.
August adores you too. You’re successful, kind, and smart.
But more than that, through everything we’ve been through, you always saw me, the real person underneath.
” His mouth quirks up when he says, “Even though we’ll forever have to agree to disagree that Tapestry is the best Next Generation episode.
” He hesitates, then says, “I had to take a cross-country flight, then a small, sketchy plane, then a mountainous drive, then a three-mile cross-country ski trip to get here, Brielle Wilson. And I’d do it again.
I’d hike twice as far, in the freezing snow, uphill both ways, if it meant a chance to undo the hurt I caused you. ”
The speech is so earnest, so Hayes, that it melts the last of my resistance. “You really did all that. For me.”
“For us,” he corrects gently. Then, to my absolute shock, he lowers himself to one knee on the weathered deck.
I gasp. “What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done already,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key and handing it to me. After I take it, with shaking hands, he pulls out a small lock box and holds it up.
This is the part of the show where I use the key to unlock the box, so I do it, butterflies exploding in my stomach.
Inside is a ring—not the gaudy Neil Lane monstrosity from the show, but something delicate, vintage, with a modest diamond surrounded by tiny sapphires.
“Don’t get too attached to this ring because I’m not sure the show will let me keep it since I broke the rules, but Brielle, will you get engaged to me so we can date and see how things go in the real world? Because I’m in love with you.”
For a moment, I can’t speak. Can’t breathe. Can’t process that this is actually happening—that Hayes Burke is kneeling before me on a cabin deck in Alaska, offering me not a fairy tale ending but something better: a real beginning.
I laugh, a sound of pure joy, and hold out my trembling hand. “It’s too late,” I tell him as he slides the ring onto my finger. “I’m in love with the ring, and I’m also in love with you. I can’t wait to get engaged so we can date and see how things go living our normal lives.”
Hayes stands and pulls me into his arms, his kiss tasting of promises and second chances. Behind us, the sun dips lower toward the mountains, painting the sky in colors no filter could replicate. It’s perfection—except for Tyler, and how he’s bringing the camera in close.
But I don’t care. Let him film. Let Darren edit it however he wants. Let viewers dissect every moment of our proposal. All that matters is us.
Because this isn’t the end of a reality show journey. It’s the beginning of our actual story—messy, imperfect, real. No Lock & Key ceremonies, no production manipulations, no carefully crafted narrative.
Just Hayes and me, writing our own script from here on out.