19. 19
M y palms are sweating, breathing shallow.
“The cameras are ready. Just to recap, she will show you three rings for each woman based on their answers to the questions during the application process.
“You have to look through all of them and pick one for each woman. We will have both available tomorrow in case you change your mind on who you’re picking,” Philip says, tapping away at his phone, oblivious to my panic. “Are you ready?”
While he seems to be giving me a choice, it’s only for appearances. I have no choice. This was in the contract.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, making to grab for the door handle, but he stops me.
“We would prefer more of an excited, ‘so happy to be here’ kind of attitude.”
“Got it.”
The sun is bright as I open the door, and head inside the high-end jewelry store. It’s empty but for the associate behind the counter. And the camera people.
And the members of production.
Really, it’s just empty of other customers.
“Hello, and welcome to Timeless Jewels,” the associate says, holding her hand out for me. She reminds me of the associate who helped Alec find a ring for Charlie, but where Alec was calm and excited, I’m a walking panic attack.
I walk over to her, a smile on my face for the camera. Maybe if I fake it, eventually the calmness will filter to my insides.
“I’m Parker,” I say shaking her hand. “Thank you for having us.”
“It’s our pleasure to mark this momentous occasion in your life. We’ve preselected some rings for you to review.” She pulls two black velvet covered trays, three rings on each one. “This one is for Carmen and this one for Anastasia,” she says, indicating, first the left and then the right.
But I didn’t need any help determining which set was for which woman. The ones for Carmen are large and flashy while Anastasia’s are more intricate and unique.
Letting go of Leslie at the last elimination was difficult, but ever since the first night, I knew it was going to come down to these two ladies. While I’m ring shopping, Philip told me they are both trying on various gowns for the finale.
The associate goes through the rings for each woman. There’s a lot of ‘emerald cut’ this and ‘pave band’ that and it all begins to blend together.
Without much thought, I pick out a ring for Carmen I know I’ll never give her.
I look at the rings for Anastasia and there’s something about them that, while beautiful and something I could see her wearing, I know they aren’t really her .
The one on the right keeps pulling my attention. I know it’s the right choice out of these available options.
“This one,” I say, pointing to it.
“Stunning choice, sir. Whichever lady you choose will be incredibly lucky.”
I wipe the sweat beading on my forehead and thank her for her time, all but running out of the store.
My fingers tremble as I try to tie my bowtie for a third time. My day started at three in the morning when I decided sleep was not in the cards for me. Could I see myself with Anastasia? Yes. Absolutely. She’s smart and funny and caring and I would be lucky to call her mine.
A camera moves to catch me untying the tie again.
What if everything I like about Anastasia has been for the show? I pause before starting my fourth attempt. Worry seeps into every crevice and strangles any other thought.
What if Anya has been pretending this entire time? I think about each of our times together, and how hard it is to deliver all the lines production requires of me. If she’s pretending every time we are together, I’m almost impressed by her ability.
But the Anya I saw at the Desire Suite date was the same one I’ve seen the entire show. Other than the time with her family and at the bakery when she was telling me everything about her craft, that was the most relaxed I saw her.
Bowtie finally tied, I pull the ring box out of my pants pocket. I have opened it five hundred times since I picked it out yesterday.
There are so many things that could go wrong today. So many reasons I shouldn’t be doing this. But I have to. It was in the contract. An engagement at the end of the show is required.
They don’t care if it will last.
They don’t care how either of us feel about it.
They don’t care.
But I do.
And I don’t know what to do because at the end of the day, I’m a hypocrite. I worry about Anastasia’s honesty with me, how much of what I saw was for the cameras during all of these dates, these moments, that have been manufactured.
And yet.
Even how I reacted or didn’t has been manufactured to an extent. How can I be mad if she did the same? Anastasia doesn’t know the real me, though.
And I can’t get engaged to someone who doesn’t know what she’s getting. Because eventually, she’s going to figure out what I am. Boring. Predictable. All the things Brittany accused me of and I never wanted to be. And what I said to Anya’s mom was the truth. Marriage matters to me. Commitment matters to me .
I wonder if I should change my mind. If I should propose to Carmen instead. Not because I actually want to be engaged to her, but because it won’t hurt as much when it inevitably ends.
When she leaves.
I want a real relationship with Anya outside of this show. I want to call her and ask if she wants me to pick up pizza after she has a hard day. I want her to call me when something needs to be fixed around her shop.
I want to take her on dates.
Real dates.
But how do we do that, how do we go backward almost, if we are engaged? I wish I could talk to her so we could get on the same page. Tell her, even though I’m putting a ring on her finger, I want us to go slow. To give this a real shot.
That I want to be with her.
I should have talked to her about this during our Desire Suite date, but I was too busy kissing her.
“Are you ready?” Philip asks, popping his head into the room. Startled, I look up at him and pray I’m not about to ruin what this could be.
“Yes,” I tell him, despite feeling the exact opposite.
The silence is oppressive as we ride down in the elevator. Once in the car, Philip debriefs me from the front of the car, as if this situation is completely normal.
“Carmen will come first. You’ll reject her. There will be about thirty minutes, give us time to reset anything that we need, and Anastasia will arrive.”
“Sounds good.”
“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes, so let’s get some lead up shots.”
He begins reading through the paper on his clipboard and I answer, as best I can. We pull up to a scenic view, the stage set.
“Got it. I’ll let him know,” Philip says into his phone as everyone puts the final touches on the camera set up while another wires me with a microphone.
“We are changing the order. Carmen’s car is having some issues and Anastasia’s had already left to get to the staging area.”
I simply nod. Nothing I say matters at this point. The driver opens my door and my heart races as I step out into the early evening sun. I’m moved into position and everyone moves around, disappearing to give us the illusion of privacy.
I stand in the middle of a semi-circle of roses and other flowers I don’t recognize. Candles flicker around me even though it’s daytime. Before I know it, the black limo pulls up. The driver gets out, opening her door.
Just like the first day, I see her shapely leg first before she reaches out a hand to the driver to help her stand.
Anastasia is beautiful as she climbs out in her champagne dress that’s covered in beads and sparkles. As perfect as she looks, the smile she gives me is radiant. Her heels crunch against the gravel and this time there is no twisting ankle sending her into a sprawling heap. She stretches out her hands once she’s close to me and I marvel again at the softness of her skin before leaning down to give her inviting lips a kiss.
I linger for a moment, just in case it’s the last time she lets me kiss her.
The ring in my pocket is heavy.
And the uncertainty of this moment makes my stomach turn.
“Hi,” she says, breathless .
“How are you feeling?”
She bobs her head from side to side, a considering look on her face. “I’m nervous. Excited. Scared. Pick an emotion and I’ve pretty much felt it at some point today.”
And this I understand. It has felt like I didn’t control my body or emotions all day as I’ve readied for this moment.
“I might have cycled through a few of them myself.”
I brush my thumb over the back of her knuckles and look at her perfectly manicured fingers.
“Parker, I—”
Worried that if I don’t start talking now, I’ll never start, I cut her off.
“Anastasia, getting to know you over the past few months has been one of the simple pleasures of my life. You’re smart and funny and kind and stunning. But as beautiful as you are on the outside, you’re even more beautiful on the inside. I am so incredibly humbled you chose to take a chance on this show and me.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else,” she says, smiling, but this time it doesn’t reach her eyes. In fact, other than her initial smile, all of her expressions have been more mask than real after I kissed her. As if she’s having to school her features in what to do instead of showing what truly churns inside her.
My nerves explode at the change in her but I push it aside, telling myself she’s just as nervous as I am. Releasing her hands, I grab the ring from my pocket while I get down on one knee. Her eyes widen as I move, tears brimming.
I open the box and take a deep breath.
“Anastasia, I know you wish for a partner. I can’t promise this will be perfect, but what I can promise is that I want to be with you and see where it leads. The first night I saw you, all I desired was you. Will you please accept this ring as a symbol of the undying flame of that desire?”
The last words are not my own, the show preferring to bring it back around. This is House of Desire after all. Shouldn’t desire be mentioned in the proposal?
But I don’t care that I didn’t technically propose. Because if I ever did ask someone to marry me, they would never have to wonder if it’s real or not. And so long as a ring ends up on a finger, I doubt production will nitpick this nuance.
Her perfectly manicured hands come up and cover her mouth as a single, perfect tear streams down her face. Much like night one, I see disaster about to strike but am powerless to stop it.
“I can’t,” she says.
The world stops spinning, I’m sure of it.
“What?” I ask past the ringing in my ears.
“I’m so sorry. Parker, please, stand up.”
“Not until you say yes.” I almost beg her. Beg her to accept me. To want me.
To choose me.
“I can’t say yes. I’m sorry, please,” she tugs on my arm and I surge to my feet, the protective walls I’ve built around my heart slamming back into place. I hadn’t realized until this moment how thoroughly she had crushed them.
“What do you mean you can’t? Don’t you want to see what could happen between us?”
Hurt and embarrassment turn to anger bubbling in my guts, and it’s all I can do to continue standing there .
“Of course, of course I do . But we don’t have to be engaged to do that. And I like you, Parker! I have the biggest crush on you and after our Desire Suite night I realized what I’m feeling is real. It’s real, but I can’t say yes to you when I’m not sure you’re fully ready for the commitment of trying to make this work.
“We will have even more pressure put on us because of the audience and tabloids. And if we both aren’t ready to give this everything we have, we will be torn apart and I don’t want that for either of us. It’s too much pressure. I need you to understand. Please.”
Tears gather in her eyes, but they do nothing to stop the snort of dismissive laughter.
“Do you really think I believed it would be a real engagement?” I step back from her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I had to pick between you and Carmen so, here we are.” Vile words spew from my poisoned heart, and I see as they destroy her. But I can’t take them back.
All I can do is protect her from the broken shards of myself.
“Parker—” she says, stepping toward me, but I take a sharp step back.
“Just go, Anastasia,” I interrupt. Her mouth keeps moving, but I can’t hear the words over the sound of my thrumming pulse. Honey brown eyes search my face and she nods at whatever she finds.
As if time is slowed, she takes a step away from me and my chest tightens. My greatest fear turning into reality.
Another step back, eyes still locked with mine, and my heart skips a beat.
A third step, and all the oxygen is sucked out of the entire world.
She turns around, her dress swishing around her feet as they carry her away from me. She looks at me one last time as the limo door shuts behind her and I die, my heart rending in two, while I watch her drive away from me.