26. Max
MAX
I’m standing by the altar in a tuxedo, waiting.
Five minutes until we go live.
We’re probably already airing the pre-taped segments.
In a minute or two the broadcast will cut to the live feed, and I’ll break it to Colette that it isn’t her.
After that I have about five minutes to reset while audience will get a montage of our “journey”, and then I’ll have four minutes to make the proposal. Short and sweet. Romantic. Convincing.
Simple.
Except the collar of this tux feels more like a noose with every passing second.
The crew moves around me in a blur. Someone’s adjusting the microphone clipped under my lapel, someone else checking the focus on the altar. Stage lights beam down from above, turning the lawn into something bright and unreal.
“Max,” someone calls from behind a monitor. “Two minutes.”
The lights are blinding now. I scan the edges of the set, my eyes aching for a glimpse of the one person who makes this whole thing feel okay.
Heidi isn’t here. Or if she is, I can’t see her behind the crane camera.
I could really use her right now. Colette’s a nice woman. I feel like a jerk doing this to her.
“Thirty seconds!”
I roll my shoulders and adjust my cuffs one last time. Then I switch on the calm, charming version of myself the cameras expect.
“Ten seconds.”
From there the countdown goes silent.
Three cameras swing into position around the altar. I have no idea which one is live.
Colette appears at the end of the path. She’s wearing a soft wrap dress that moves gently in the breeze as she walks toward me, smiling.
That’s where I blank out. The words come out automatically, the same ones Heidi and I rehearsed earlier. I tell her how much she’s taught me, how much I respect her, but that my connection with Grace is stronger.
Colette takes it well. A little too well. I expected tears. Or at least disappointment. Instead she nods, almost relieved, and gives me a quick hug before stepping away from the altar.
It’s over faster than I thought it would be.
Which leaves the real performance still to come.
The next five minutes disappear.
Crew members swarm the altar the second Colette steps off the path. Someone powders my forehead. Someone else adjusts the microphone again. A producer whispers timing updates into a headset while the crane camera swings into a new position above the lawn.
My heart is beating hard. I just have to follow the plan. I barely have time to steady my breathing before someone calls, “Stand by.”
Then Grace appears at the end of the path.
She walks toward the altar with a regal stride. Draped in a shimmering white gown. She looks like she’s expecting us to get married today.
I give her the smile she’s expecting. The smitten look of a man about to pledge his life to her.
As she reaches me and takes my hands in hers, her fingers are cold. They’re trembling just slightly, but her eyes lock onto mine with a terrifying intensity.
I feel the small velvet box in my pocket.
Behind the cameras, somewhere in the darkness beyond the lights, Heidi is watching. I wish I could see her right now.
Grace leans in slightly, her breath faintly minty.
“Max,” she whispers.
Right.
I’m hesitating.
I take a slow breath and tighten my grip on her hands.
“Grace,” I begin quietly, leaning closer so the moment feels intimate, “when I started this journey, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted.”
The lights are blinding. The cameras are inches away. But her eyes stay locked on mine.
“Alton Hills. The parties. The life everyone expects me to live. But the more time I spent with you…the more I realized something.”
I pause, letting the silence stretch the way we practiced.
“That life isn’t enough. My feelings for you made me see how shallow it all is. The houses, the galas, the attention. I don’t want it anymore. I want something real.”
I glance down at our hands, then back at her.
“I want a life that actually means something. I’ve decided to give everything away.
I want to dedicate my life to something that matters.
I’ve been talking to a conservation group that works with wildlife preserves overseas.
Africa. Maybe Botswana. Somewhere quiet.
Somewhere real. No cameras. No society pages. Just the work…and us.”
Something flickers in her eyes.
“I want you with me. I want us to build that life together.”
I pull out the box to expose the ring. It’s a cheap plastic toy from a vending machine.
“Grace,” I say, lowering myself onto one knee, “will you leave all of this behind and be my wife?”
This is the moment she’s supposed to recoil, the point where the plan falls neatly into place and Grace walks away from the altar.
Instead, she smiles. Her hand lifts immediately, fingers extended toward me as if the answer was never in doubt. She doesn’t even glance at the ring.
“Yes, Max,” she says clearly. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
For a second I just stare at her, the plastic ring still pinched between my fingers.
Then my gaze lifts instinctively, searching past the cameras and the wall of lights.
Where’s Heidi?
If anyone knows what to do now, it’s her.
Grace’s hand is still extended toward me, waiting. In that moment it finally hits me how badly this has gone wrong. If I put this ring on her finger, the lie becomes permanent. The cameras, the audience, the narrative—everything snaps shut around me.
I pull my hand back. The movement is sharp enough that the box nearly slips from my fingers. I snap it closed and toss it aside.
“I can’t do this,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Max?” Grace says under her breath. “The cameras are—”
“I can’t do it,” I repeat, cutting her off.
“You have to,” she hisses through clenched teeth. She doesn’t move an inch, but the fury in her eyes is unmistakable. “Put the ring on, Max.”
I shake my head.
Her eyes narrow as she studies my face.
“I can’t because there’s someone else,” I say.
Grace goes very still. She searches my face, like she’s trying to decide if I’m bluffing.
“Someone else?” she says slowly. “How did you meet someone else? You’ve been here the whole—”
She glances toward the house, thinking.
“Marissa?” she says sharply.
“No.”
“Well I can’t think who else you could possibly…” she trails off and thins her eyes at me. “There’s only one other woman you see every day.”
Her gaze flicks past my shoulder.
“Heidi?”
I turn and see Heidi standing near the edge of the set beside one of the camera operators.
For a moment she looks frozen, caught in the glare of the stage lights.
Another camera swings toward her immediately, the operator reacting on instinct.
Its red light blinks on as it locks onto the new target. Grace sees it too.
“Max?” she says quietly. “This is where you say it’s not Heidi.”
The entire garden seems to hold its breath.
But I can’t say it.
“I’m sorry, Grace—” I start.
She doesn’t let me finish. Grace bends down in one sharp movement, yanks off one of her stilettos, and hurls it at my head with terrifying accuracy. I jerk sideways just in time; it slams into my shoulder and drops to the grass.
Then she turns on Heidi.
“You?!” she screams, her voice cracking across the garden. “You husband-stealing little—”
“Hey,” I snap, stepping between them.
Grace lunges forward. I grab her around the waist before she reaches Heidi, but she fights like a wildcat—scratching, slapping, trying to wrench herself free.
Around us the cameras keep rolling.
“Cut the feed!” Heidi’s voice rings out.
“Don’t you dare,” Vivian counters instantly.
Grace jerks hard enough that my grip slips. She spins toward Heidi again, fury blazing in her eyes and then she bites down hard on my arm and tears free.
She bolts for Heidi.
The camera crew finally reacts, stepping in to intercept her before she gets there. Two operators grab her arms, but she keeps fighting, shrieking and kicking until the set itself begins to come apart. Lilies rip free from the arches, white petals scattering across the lawn.
Heidi has backed away several steps. Her face is pale, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and guilt.
Then she turns and runs.
For a moment no one moves. The crew stands frozen, watching Grace thrash against the handlers while the broadcast lights blaze down on the wreckage of the set.
Finally Vivian’s voice cuts through the chaos.
“That’s time,” she says. “We’re clear.”
Grace collapses onto the grass. The rage just vanishes, replaced by a blank, hollow stare. She doesn’t move when the crew starts whispering. Marissa bends down to see if she’s alright, but Grace just lies there, her eyes fixed on nothing.
“Grace?” Marissa says.
She’s completely unresponsive.
I turn away. It felt easier when she was thrashing and biting me. At least that made sense. I don’t like this.
I stand there for a second, my pulse hammering while the crew hovers awkwardly around the wreckage of the set. Cameras lower. Someone is shouting into a headset.
Across the lawn, Vivian catches my eye. She raises an eyebrow, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
I’ve got nothing.
So I go after Heidi.