‘Congratulations, Whit and Malachi, our winners!’ cries Karina excitedly.
Dolly and Warren take second place, Bridget and Jackson tie for third with Patrick and me.
Lina and Zack come in last place. ‘Oh well,’ Lina laughsand drops her board to the floor. ‘I’ve never really been one for winning.’
I can’t help but notice the tension in Zack’s body, the tightness of his mouth.
‘Me either, babes,’ sighs Bridget. ‘Hopefully we still get to pick somewhere good.’
‘Speaking of which,’ Lucas says, ‘Whit and Malachi, do you know which venue you’d like to secure?’
‘Well, obviously we’d like to reserve the church, wouldn’t we?’ Whit smiles adoringly at Malachi.
Malachi drops his voice, and holds her so tenderly. ‘Are you sure? I want it to be special for you.’
Whit kisses him on the tip of his nose. ‘I love you for pausing to check that. But yes. Let’s get married there!’
The Nguyens applaud as Whit and Malachi embrace, and I feel a hollow ache in my chest as I look at them, so deeply in love. They seem to take in every piece of each other. I’m not sure anyone else has built a relationship that even comes close to their intuitive bond.
When I look at Patrick, do the others see the same kind of love? Patrick looks at me like I’m sunshine, but not like I’m the world. I can shine on him, even blind him a little to what I am. But all I really want is for him to see everything of me, and still want to stay.
God, I’m so tired. I’m so tired that I want to go lie down and cry and not sit here listening to everyone who beat us talk about their wedding venue of choice.
I’m steeling myself for the punch when the Nguyens ask Dolly and Warren what their choice is.
To my surprise, and apparently Dolly’s, Warren says, ‘If it’s alright, we’d like to check a couple of things before we decide? There was lots of good information about logistics, so we just want to check some things first.’
Are they allowed to do this? I can’t tell if it would be worse to prolong this situation or just get it over with now.
Either way I feel like I’m going to pass out from standing up and trying for so long, and the fire in my brain runs straight to my mouth. ‘So we have to sit in limbo while you make up your minds?’ I say before I can hold back the words, and Ihatethe look that passes over Patrick’s eyes. ‘Sorry, I—’ I stumble with hot shame flushing my face. God, why did I speak?
‘We’ll try and be quick about accommodating your wants while we check accessibility of the event space,’ Dolly says, smiling a little too wide. ‘I don’t want to put you out.’
‘That’s not what I meant, and you know that, Dolly,’ I insist, my voice turning whiny when I wanted it to be firm, confident, honest. I can’t get control of myself. Work-Carys won’t appear. Girlfriend-Carys is gone. I can’t find the right mask to slip onto my face. I feel a frog lodge in my throat, and light whitens, like someone turned up the sun.
Dolly looks like she’s about to say something else, when Warren calmly interrupts, ‘I understand. We’re cool. We will let you know as soon as we’ve made a decision.’
The Nguyens wrap up the challenge and make us give each other a half-hearted round of applause, but I am barely there. I don’t process any of it. When they tell us the cameras are off, I sprint to the bathroom to vomit up all the feelings bursting through my skin.
Chapter Twenty-OneDolly
@potatofiend:sorry did Zack put his greatest fear as being cancelled! What skeletons are in his closet?
@5ft2bexact:I know @potatofiend. Can you believe Jackson wasn’t the one with the weirdest answer?
@regularsizedhorse:To be fair to Warren big slugs are terrifying
Rather impressive they could get it all this quickly, but why couldn’t we have had that upfront?
While the big country house having accommodation solved some problems and it’s tempting to steal it from Carys, surprise, surprise, there’s no lifts anywhere. Still, it’s tempting to steal it from Carys just to fuck her over.
I really want us to get married in the Barbican Conservatory. I can’t stop thinking of how warm and beautiful it will be under that sunlight, surrounded by plants. If I was getting married for real, this would be the place I’d pick.
But there’s a few hitches: how do we get people there, where will everyone stay, how accessible can we make the rest of the wedding beyond the venue itself?
Warren pokes me in the gap between my eyebrows. ‘Your brain is going to set on fire with all that thinking.’
‘I just want to get it right,’ I insist, peering at him over the top of my sunglasses. ‘This is the first big decision, so it feels important.’
