“We need to talk,” Vivian said, stepping past Sienna into the small foyer with a jute rug and a pale wooden console holding an assortment of hollowed-out ostrich eggs.
“What’s going on?” Nisha asked, sauntering toward them. Her long bohemian skirt flapped in the makeshift breeze, and she flicked strands of dark, wavy hair behind her tanned shoulders. “Why are you here? Did something happen?”
Vivian lifted a hand to shut her up.
Nisha clamped her mouth shut, but then just as quickly looked like a woman who wasn’t going to stand for it. “I’m sorry, but this date is private.”
Vivian ignored her and turned her back to Nisha, facing Sienna instead.
Sienna didn’t even bother looking to see if Nisha was okay. She only had eyes for Vivian. Lovely, gorgeous Vivian, who couldn’t stand it anymore and crashed the villa date to save her once again.
“I can’t wait,” Vivian said. “I can’t wait until the show is over for us to finally admit how we feel about each other. Idon’t want to hide anymore. I don’t want to pretend that there’s nothing going on between us because there is.”
Sienna couldn’t believe this was happening.
Was this actually happening, or had Nisha hit some kind of trigger point that sent her spiraling into a dream state? No, this was real. Sienna could smell the arnica oil from Nisha’s hands as she stepped forward and pointed a finger at Vivian.
“What the hell is going on?” Nisha demanded.
This time, it was Sienna who cut her off. “Not now,” she said so quickly and so forcefully that Nisha’s eyes widened. She stepped back, folded her arms tightly over her chest, but mercifully didn’t argue. Sienna was grateful. Vivian had taken that moment to step forward and take her hands in hers.
“These last few days have been torture,” Vivian said, staring into Sienna’s eyes. “Watching you go on those dates, pretending I didn’t care that Holly kissed you, or that Dani held your hand, or that you chose Nisha for the villa date, has been an absolute nightmare. I hate it. I hate Elise for making us do this. I hate myself for not standing up to her, for thinking that my work is more important than my heart.”
“I don’t want you to get fired,” Sienna said. Honestly, the only reason Sienna had kept up this charade was to protect Vivian. To protect her job. She cared enough about her—hell, she was in love with her—to go through with this nonsense.
“I don’t care if I get fired,” Vivian said, squeezing her fingers. “I don’t even care about this show. You’re my heart, Sienna. Every time I see you smile or hear your laugh, it feels like my world rearranges itself. Every time your foot catches on the edge of a chair or a rug, I imagine myself cushioning your fall.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Sienna said. Her heart beat like thunder and lightning rolling over a dry savanna. She didn’t just hear it in her ears; she felt it too. A glorious, beautifulwildfire spreading through her chest. This was, after all, exactly what she wanted to hear.
“But I want to,” Vivian insisted, stepping in closer. “What I don’t want is to watch you pick one of them for the final rose. I don’t think I’ll be able to just stand back and—”
“Wait,” Nisha said, interrupting again. Her nostrils weren’t just flaring; they were practically flapping. “Were you seriously just going to pick someone for the final rose just to pick someone?” She whipped her head between the two of them, looking utterly aghast. “But you’re actually seeing each other?”
“Yes,” Sienna and Vivian said at the same time. Best to just yank the band-aid right off.
“That’s seriously fucked up.” Nisha shot, her voice shrill. “Seriously fucked up.” She stomped to the door only to pause in the doorway. “You both need therapy.”
Sienna didn’t care what Nisha thought. This was the happiest she had ever been, and she hated that she was told she had to lie about it. “I love you,” she said, leaning in to press her lips against Vivian’s.
“I love you too,” Vivian said, grinning into Sienna’s mouth. “Even the part of you determined to trip over every flat surface out there.”
They laughed. Both of them. They laughed so hard that they hadn’t heard Elise barge in through the door.
And they didn’t care. Fuck Elise and her scripted love show. Fuck pretending.
Epilogue
Eighteen months later
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Sienna cried, throwing her hands in the air and stomping her feet. Mud splattered up her jeans, sticky from the volcanic ground beneath them.
“But I should believe it because this is exactly the kind of thing that happens to me.”
“It’s fine,” Vivian said, hoping she didn’t sound panicked. Which she was. There wasn’t another car in sight. Just miles of jungle humming around them and a cloud of birds that had scattered from the surrounding trees at the sound of their engine dying.
Two minutes ago, they’d been cruising down a narrow dirt road lined with strangler figs toward what was supposed to be the start of a hiking trail with a view to die for, and now their Jeep sat lopsided on a patch of mud that had looked completely harmless at first but turned out to be the exact opposite.
“I knew we should’ve gone somewhere more relaxing for our honeymoon,” Sienna huffed. “Somewhere with white sandy beaches and cocktails and massages. Not fricken Rincon de la Vieja National Park. I mean, who chooses a place known for boiling mud potholes?”
