Blind Reality (26 page)

I knew I screwed up last night when I asked her to stay away from Bronx. I didn’t consider her feelings or their past relationship and I put her in the same category as Jules, but without the commitment. I’m an idiot to think she’d listen. I’ve offered nothing but an end when the game is over.

When she came to bed last night, I knew something was wrong. From the day we entered the house, we’ve always gone to bed together. Sometimes we’d fool around, but each and every night, even after I’ve been a complete ass, she’d let me hold her. Last night was different. When I told her I was ready for bed, she said she was staying up to read. I didn’t push the issue because I knew I had messed up.

The dip of bed hours later, the sleeping in sweatpants and on top of the comforter told me everything I needed to know. And this morning when I woke up, the chatter of a late night game with Bronx hit me square in the chest. She spent time with him, instead of me. I get that they’re friends, but I’m her husband. Am I deserving of the title? No I’m not, but I’m trying to be.

“Josh to the confession room.” I ignore the embodied voice that commands us to do things around the house because I’m not done observing. I’m not done watching everything I’ve built for the past two months slip away because some money hungry executive is afraid he’s losing his job and needs a rating boost.

Instead, I’m leaning against the entryway that separates the bedrooms from the main living area. Everyone is either sitting on the couch, cuddling in the corner, or in the kitchen. No one turns to see where I am, to give me the ‘I’m sorry you’ve been called to the room’ look. It’s as if I don’t exist.

I turn my gaze back to the cuddling couple and shake my head. It’s Gary and Rebekah, and while they may not be touching, they’re definitely what I’d consider too close for comfort. I’ve deduced that they know each other and I’m going to make it a point to figure out how and why Gary thinks she’s here and how she ended up with the likes of Bronx Taylor.

Amanda is oblivious to where her husband is because she’s too busy making eyes at Bronx. First me. Now him. How come Gary isn’t enough for her? After everything he’s done to impress her, she tosses him away like yesterday’s news. Although he doesn’t seem to care right now, so why should I?

“Josh to the confession room.” Linda speaks again and no one stops to see where I’m at or why my name has been called twice now. The one person who should care doesn’t. She’s too busy making a cake. This is just perfect. My bubble has been burst. It’s not even a pinprick giving me a slow leak. We’re talking full blown pop.

Pushing off the wall, I take the few steps necessary to the confession room. I try to slam the door behind me, but it’s on hydraulics and even I’m not that strong. My last few times in here have been with Joey, and we’ve used this room as our personal make out room. We both knew the viewers were watching, but we didn’t care and I’m stupid enough to believe that that was enough to show her that I care, but now I know that’s not entirely true. I have to find a way to let it be known that I want her, that I want to see how things go with us once the show’s over. I never meant to fall for her, but I also never meant to meet anyone like her. I’d be stupid to walk away.

Sitting down, I rest my elbows on my knees and look into the camera. Do the viewers see my pained expression? Are the fans that Bronx and I share seeing what I’m seeing, even though he’s only been here for a day? Have Joey and I done enough to secure a victory?

The red light blinks, my cue to start talking. There are no questions today, nothing fun. We’re in serious mode and the producers have seen what I was going through out there so the next logical step is to bring me in and confess my fears.

“I’m a coward,” I say to the viewers. “My fear is that I don’t know what love is and my inability to recognize what’s going on in here.” I put my fist over my chest and pound once. “It’s going to be my downfall. How do you know when you’re in love? Is it when your body craves that person?” I’d say yes because when I finally gave into everything I had been fighting, and made love to her in the shower, I felt like a new person.

“I want to spend all my free time with her, and make time that doesn’t exist be time for just the two of us. I never want to get up in the morning for fear that I’ll be cold because her body keeps me warm at night. I find myself watching her comb her hair and it’s fascinating. I love that she wants to workout, but not willing to give up her cake. She’s real, not a plastic filled human trying to be someone she’s not.

“My fear is that I’m tainted by the ugly of the world and can’t see the beauty that is in front of me. My hope is that I’m enough for her, but the angry, bitter man inside of me says I’m not and I never will be. My stubbornness is going to drive Joey away and I’m not sure that I know how to stop it. I made a mistake. From day one I’ve told her something that I can’t take back.”

I sit back and stare off into the dark space, hating myself for being in this mindset. If I hadn’t let her break down my walls, I wouldn’t care that she’s talking to Bronx, but I do. I’m angry and I’m hurt. The sad thing is, I deserve it. I have to own everything that she throws at me because I created the divide between us. The rules I put in place were meant to protect her, not hurt me.

“Tell us about Joey?” The voice is male, different from Linda. I cock my head toward the camera. I should get up and leave. I’ve already said too much, been too open with the viewers and with myself. The actor in me is saying—fake it. Give them the goods and play this whole situation off, but I’d be lying to myself, and if I can’t be honest with who I am, what good will I be to Joey?

“Joey …” I say, remembering the first time I kissed her. Even with the blindfold on I felt something. It took no time for her to work her way into my life without even trying, even when I was fighting her every step of the way.

“The way she smiles can bring me to my knees,” I tell the camera. The viewers. Her parents. Jules. What I don’t tell them is that the way she says my name in those passionate moments we’ve been sharing makes me crumble. My knees shake at the thought of her lips touching mine. My resolve has weakened and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I can survive her unintentional onslaught. I need her not only physically, but emotionally as well.

In hindsight, this show was not a good idea for me. I never expected to develop feelings of longing and lust for someone I barely know, and now that I have I don’t know how to make things right for her, or for us.

The last time I felt like this was with Jules, but even when I saw her on screen and heard her tell me that she can’t wait until I’m home, I knew I had fallen for Joey, even with all my barriers up. With Jules, things were different. I didn’t seek her out for companionship or to be my girlfriend. We just fell together. It was easy and convenient, until it wasn’t. When Bronx made his presence known, I knew I was on the same path as my parents and I didn’t want that. It was too easy to go our separate ways, even if we end up back together every now and again. She knows I’m not serious about her, but refuses to accept it.

I seem to be the one who can’t commit, or follow though. Maybe it’s out of fear or I have to learn how to open myself up more and realize that when I have a beautiful woman standing in front of me, one that is willing to be my partner through the most unconventional circumstances, I need to take the bull by the horns and seal the deal. I’m just not sure I can. What Joey wants from me, I don’t think I’m capable of giving.

Again, I’m a coward.

When I signed the contract, I never thought Barry would follow through with having me on the show. When my agent informed me that I had to fulfill my obligations and appear on the show, he was angry that I got him and myself into this mess and asked if this was a ploy for money. It’s not about that at all. It’s about me wanting to make a difference in people’s lives, which is why I’m giving my winnings to the foundation; the very center that helped shaped who I am today. I told myself that I’m here to win, not fall in love.

I may be lying to myself right now.

My lower lip feels raw and there’s blood on the tip of my finger after rubbing where I’ve bitten through without any cause or concern for the pain. I didn’t even know I was chewing on it until now. Who knew a question like this would send me into a diatribe in my head, justifying why I’m here and what I’m feeling for Joey?

“Do you want to continue?”

My head cocks to the side as I focus on the camera. I hate the detached feeling of this room. I don’t care if the couch is comfortable and there are throw pillows everywhere. It’s cold, unwelcoming, and invasive. I can’t tell the viewers what I think about my wife because I’m not sure I can say the words out loud.

“Joey is unlike any woman I have ever met before. She makes me laugh and I have a feeling she’ll be the one to make me cry.” The words tumble out of my mouth. I can’t stop them. I don’t want to. If I can’t tell her, I’ll tell the viewers, the fans. I’ll give them some insight as to how I see her. I want them to fall in love with her.

“Are you looking forward to a future with her?”

“Do I even have a future with her?” I ask the voice behind the dark screen. “The producers seem to think otherwise or they wouldn’t have pulled that little stunt with Jules Maxwell, or have brought in another man from her past. Honestly, I stand a better chance with her ex in the room than I do with Bronx.”

“Please answer the question, Joshua.”

In this moment, I want this show to be over. I want to get out of here and start dating Joey to see how we are in real life. I want her to experience the Hollywood premieres, after parties, and nights alone on my couch. Can she keep up? Will she complain?

Does she know that the moment she steps out of my apartment, the cameras will be back? That people, fans, will watch her every move? They’ll track what she eats, wears, and where she goes every single day. Will she smile for them like she smiles for me? Or will reality hurt her, much like reality is hurting us now? Does she burp in public? Is she the type of girl who is constantly in her stretch pants and a tank top because it’s today’s norm on what dressed up looks like?

What does she look like dressed up in a fancy gown with her hand resting on my arm? How will she react on the red carpet? As my wife, the public expects her to be there and what if she can’t? Joey didn’t come on this show to marry a celebrity; she just got lucky, or unlucky in her case. She also wasn’t expecting to have her marriage annulled once the show stopped airing either. I feel sorry that she got stuck with a bastard like me.

Running my hands through my hair, I sigh heavily. It’s good for the ratings, me contemplating my answer. It gives others a hope they didn’t know they were looking for, that they could snag someone famous. Joey, even though she wouldn’t want this, is the poster girl for all women who have celebrity crushes.

“Yeah, of course, but shouldn’t the question be whether or not she’s looking forward to a future with me?” I stand and leave the confession room before they can ask another question. Being put on the spot is not something I enjoy. I don’t know many who do, but usually I’m prepared with a “no comment” or I can offer a smile and a slight shake of my head and that usually gets the reporters off kilter enough that they move on. Not this time. I can’t look them in the eye when they ask, and that bothers me.

The house is empty when I step out. The sound of laughter is faint and coming from outside. It’s too nice to be inside and when you have walls surrounding you, tensions seem to run high. Walking through the house, I look in the rooms for Joey as fear runs through me, wondering if I’ll find her with Bronx. I don’t think Joey is that type, but he is. He has no qualms weaseling his way into an existing relationship and I have no doubt he’d do the same with Joey, given half the chance.

As I step outside, the California sun blinds me. Immediately, my arm is up, covering my eyes as I try to adjust and work past the dark spots. Amanda and Millie are sunbathing. Gary and Cole are working out. My stomach drops as my eyes travel to the laughter and I find my wife and enemy in the pool together, with his wife watching. I think I’d be okay if Rebekah was in the water, but she’s just sitting there, in a dress while Joey is in her bikini, sitting on Bronx’s shoulders.

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, it’s working. I want what I cannot have, what I pushed away. I had her, and she’s slipping through my fingers. I don’t know if it’s just pure stupidity or my ego getting in my way, it doesn’t really matter because right now all I can see is Bronx screwing up my life again.

I have to ask myself if the money is worth it because right now, the answer is no.