‘Dylan!’
‘– that this wasn’t my idea.’
I glanced up at him. ‘What wasn’t your idea?’
‘Dylan!’ Murray snapped. ‘What did I say?’
‘I asked them not to,’ he said.
‘Dylan!’ Murray roared. ‘Over here! Now!’
We went into ITMs before the next part of the date. Murray was with Romeo-Dylan, so Carrie was doing mine. ‘What was Dylan JM talking about?’ I asked.
‘Just because I’m not as grumpy as Murray doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you shit, Amanda,’ Carrie said. ‘Now. You know the drill. Answer in full sentences. How do you feel, knowing that today could be the last time you ever spend with Dylan?’
Once my ITM was done, I was led back to the boat. The deck had been redressed, festooned with flowers and greenery, a bottle of champagne sitting in a silver ice bucket, but instead of leaving me there to wait, they led me below deck.
Romeo-Dylan was already there. He stood up immediately, unfolding his long legs from under his absurdly tiny table. ‘Amanda—’
‘No,’ Murray said shortly. ‘Go back. Do the entrance again, Amanda. Dylan, stop acting like you’re about to tell her that her dog got hit by a car.’
‘What’s that?’ I asked, gesturing to the large screen they’d hung on one wall. ‘Didn’t we already do the Friends and Family Date?’
‘Maybe,’ Murray bit out, ‘if you do your entrance again, you can find out.’
I did the entrance again. And again, and again, and again, until Murray was satisfied.
‘Dylan, Amanda,’ Z intoned, ‘welcome to a very special part of your Dream Date.’
He was perched on the end of Romeo-Dylan’s (now beautifully made) bed. I’d never seen Z sit before. It looked wrong, like he’d never quite learned how to do it.
‘Things are different this year onMarry Me, Juliet,’ Z said. ‘Instead of being able to take in some of the most romantic sights and sounds in the world, we’ve been here, at this property, locked away from the world. This means that you haven’t been able to get a sense of what each other is like in reality, when things are ordinary, instead of extraordinary. Of whether or not you could really make this work.’
Romeo-Dylan’s hand found mine under the table. He squeezed my fingers, tight.
‘Stop,’ Murray said. ‘Go back. If you’re going to hold hands, do it above the table where the camera can catch it.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Romeo-Dylan whispered to me as we obeyed. Murray growled at him.
‘So behind the scenes, we’ve been thinking,’ Z went on, ‘how can we best help you get to know each other? How can we bring your everyday worlds here, to the world ofMarry Me, Juliet?’
Romeo-Dylan squeezed my fingers tighter.
‘Who can help you really understand what each other is like in a real, everyday relationship?’ Z said.
Tighter again.
‘There was only one answer,’ Z said. ‘We had to call up your exes.’
My heart stopped beating.
The Zoom screen flickered to life. I was frozen solid, like someone had cast a spell on me to turn my blood to ice. If a doctor came in to check my vital signs, they would probably have declared me legally dead.
The only movement I could manage was with my eyes. I looked at Murray, pleading. He looked back, impassive.
‘What are you like in an everyday relationship, Amanda?’ Z said. ‘Let’s have a chat to your ex to find out. Dylan, meet—’
‘Mark,’ I whispered.
