by Amali Rose
“Daddy!” Lulu yells from inside. “It’s pengwin time, let’s go!”
Camden shakes his head, laughing. “You need to watch her, man. Every time I see her, she reminds me of Grayson a little more.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” I smirk. “That’s my baby girl you’re comparing to a walking nightmare.”
I turn to head inside. “All right, kid. Let’s go see the pengwins.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Charlotte Reed. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.”
“Hey, uh, it’s me. I just wanted to see how your day was. I got stuck watching penguins for forty-five minutes at the aquarium before Lulu got bored and demanded to come home. So, yeah, uh, that was my day. Anyway, call me when you get a chance.”
I end the call with a sense of dread simmering in my gut. A feeling that I have no plausible explanation for other than instinct.
I load the dishwasher, pausing halfway through to turn on the television, flicking through the channels looking for a game. Instead, I find Miss Congeniality and I allow Sandy B to do her thing and cheer me up.
This is the time of day that I hate the most. After a full-on day at the clinic or with Lulu, the silence after I have put her to sleep is always so overwhelmingly loud.
I have just slumped onto the sofa, remote in hand, when my phone vibrates against my ass. I pull it out of my pocket and grin like a psycho when I see Charlie’s name lit up on the screen. Quickly unlocking my screen, I open her message and the smile slips from my face.
Charlie: Busy day, not feeling good, talk soon.
Something is definitely not right here. Whether she’s blowing me off or she really is sick. I’m about to get to the bottom of it. Checking the time, I wince. Dad is not a night person and this favor is going to cost me.
Miles: Can you come over and watch Lulu for me?
Dad: Does this have something to do with your girl that you’ve yet to tell me about?
Jesus Christ, Grayson has a big mouth.
Miles: Yes.
Dad: Be there in twenty.
My hand hovers over the play button, and as I’ve done countless times during the last twenty-four hours, I start the video.
Miles fills my laptop screen, followed by a gaggle of stunning women. He’s laughing as they all vie for his attention at some kind of party. The sound is off, but I have watched it enough times to know it by heart. Superficial flirting and thoughtless promises are thrown at him by vapid beauties who show more enthusiasm talking to the camera than they do him.
I’m pretty upset, so there is a chance my opinion is biased but I’m too far gone to care.
I stop the video and pull up a different one. This one features an interview with Aspen Teller. I fast-forward to the part where grainy footage of Miles pulling a girl into his room is displayed while Aspen’s voice plays over it.
“I trusted him. He was telling me everything I wanted to hear, promising me the world.” Her voice becomes choked up and the screen cuts back to her, sitting dignified while tears fall down her highlighted cheeks. “He told me he knew I was the woman for him from the start and it killed him to have to proceed with the show, dating those other women when he was in love with me.” She looks off to the side, looking sadly lost in her thoughts. “When he didn’t pick me, I was devastated. When I was told that he didn’t choose Karlie either, I was shocked.” She turns and looks at the interviewer who is off-screen. “But when I found out he was fucking the makeup artist throughout the entire show, I was furious.”
I pause the screen, Aspen’s hard expression staring back at me.
My eyes are tired and sore from all of the crying, not to mention staring at my computer, watching hours upon hours of footage from the train wreck that is Dating the DILF.
Nothing Aspen has said in the multitudes of interviews I have seen and read today rings true with the man I have been dating and I would have no problem disregarding everything she had said, if it wasn’t for the footage.
After my encounter with Tiff Klein last night, I begged off spending the night with Miles, using work as an excuse, and as soon as I got home, I hit up Google. Google had always been my friend. Until last night.
Last night Google crushed my hopes one page of results at a time. And there were a lot of pages.
After staying up most of the night, I headed in to work this morning, only to be sent home by Kendall, who took one look at me and assumed I was sick. Normally I would have argued, determined to work through anything in order to prove my dedication. Today I left without a fight.
Which is a slap-in-the-face reminder why I don’t do relationships. Because no matter how perfect you think someone is for you, you always end up here. Curled up on your sofa, cat asleep behind you, coffee table littered with empty ice cream containers—yes, plural, don’t judge me—your best boxed-wine, and used tissues, while you watch hours of footage of your boyfriend wooing other women before screwing them all over.
I mean the facts might change a little every time, but you get my gist.
I pull up a random episode of the show and press play. Miles and Karlie, the other last woman standing, are sitting in a lush garden filled with wildflowers and enjoying a picnic.
“Do you want more kids?” Karlie looks at him sweetly and takes a sip of champagne.
“Absolutely. I can’t imagine only having one.” He grins at her. “What about you? Are kids in your plan?”
Are kids in your plan?
No, kids were not in my plan and yet after only a few weeks of being charmed by a pretty face, I was considering a whole new future.
What is wrong with me?
“I want four,” Karlie answers confidently, making those stupid flirty eyes that women make when we want to make it obvious we’re interested in a guy.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Karlie.” I scoff at the screen. “Your future baby daddy is screwing the makeup lady behind your back.”
Although is it behind her back? I mean he’s running around kissing all the women on the show like his lips are about to fall off and he’s trying to get in as much action as he can before it happens. And they are all talking about it and comparing notes! I mean actually discussing the nuances of Miles’ technique. So, is fidelity really expected here? Is what he did with the makeup girl cheating, if there has been no clearly defined expectations between anyone?
Or am I just trying to make excuses and let him off the hook?
I slam my laptop down on the small table and grab my glass, taking a giant gulp of wine. This show hurts my head, how can anyone enjoy watching it?
Switching my wine for the ice cream, I have just shoved a huge spoonful in my mouth when my doorbell rings. I know it will be Adelaide. After texting Miles earlier, I sent her a message. Five words. You should have told me. I promptly turned my phone off, not wanting to hear from either of them. I should have known Addy wouldn’t let it slide.
I cram another spoonful of ice cream in, then I stand, pulling my blanket tighter around my shoulders. Mintie meows at the loss of my body heat and I throw him—fuck Miles and his “She’s a girl” bullshit—an apologetic look, before schooling my features into something more outraged for Addy’s benefit.
I yank the door open. “What do you want?” I bark out before I look up and find myself face to face with a concerned-looking Miles.
There is a moment of silence before we both talk at the same time.
“You’re not Addy.”
“I was worried about you.”
He chuckles quietly. “No, I’m not. Are you expecting her?”
“No.” My grip on the door tightens and he looks anxious, standing on my porch waiting for me to invite him in.
“You said you weren’t feeling well, so I wanted to come over and see if you needed anything.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs.
“Right. Yeah, I’m not. Feeling good, I mean. You should probably go.” My voice is cold, and I wonder how we
got here so quickly when less than twenty-four hours ago we were standing in exactly the same spot, but everything was different.
Hurt washes over his face and I avert my eyes to escape it.
“Have you been crying?” I feel his hand on my cheek before I see it coming. The warmth seeps into my skin and I want to sink into his touch so badly. I close my eyes and let myself indulge in the fantasy that today never happened, just for a second.
When I open my eyes, he is standing right in front of me, crowding me in the most wonderful way.
“You need to let me in, Chicago.”
His words carry so much meaning, more than he could possibly know, and I step back allowing him to come inside.
He moves through the entrance and into the living room and I follow dutifully, wanting to get this over with. Whatever happened before he met me shouldn’t be an issue in our relationship. Logically I know this. But emotions aren’t that straightforward and the pain I have experienced today, discovering that he might not be the person I thought he was, has made me realize that I was right. The only person you can really ever depend on is yourself and opening myself up to something more will only ever lead to heartbreak. It’s the one lesson my mother taught me, and I was stupid to forget it, no matter how briefly.
I stop behind Miles and he stands there, silently surveying the shambles in front of him. I know as soon as he spots the laptop, the screen still paused on his picnic with Karlie. His back stiffens and his head drops.
“I was going to tell you.”
I brush past him and flop down onto the sofa, slamming the laptop shut, and I pull Mintie onto my lap, letting his soft fur under my fingers comfort me. “You told me about the show.” I shrug, desperately wanting to seem unaffected.
He walks past me and takes a seat on the other end of the sofa. Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees and stares straight ahead.
“You had a right to know everything, not just the part that makes me look good.” He sighs and scrubs his hands over his face.
“I told you the truth. The show was a staged farce and I had no fucking clue until we were almost at the end. I kept telling them I didn’t feel a connection to any of the women. That I couldn’t see a future with any of them, and that was what I was there for.” He looks at me and his eyes are so full of despair, his pain so visceral, it feels as though someone is crushing my chest. “I had spent the last two years trying to get over losing my best friend and trying to figure out how to do the dad thing. I felt like, like…” He shakes his head, floundering. “Like I was fucking failing at life and then suddenly out of nowhere this producer contacts me, making all these promises. I was exhausted and I had never felt so alone in my life.” He visibly grimaces. “I had given up on finding someone, because who has time for that when you’re working sixty hours a week and raising a child. I didn’t have time to scratch my ass, let alone date.”
I turn around so that I am facing him and cross my legs on the sofa. Then I wait for him to continue.
“I never slept with Sophie.” He must notice my confusion because he quickly clarifies. “The makeup girl. I didn’t have an affair with her. We were friends, that’s all. She was the one who finally told me the truth, that the producers didn’t give a fuck about me finding love and the women who I thought were there for the same reasons I was, were actually there for their own careers.” He swallows harshly and I watch his Adam’s apple bob with the effort. “The entire time Harvey, the producer, was nudging me toward Aspen and Karlie, telling me they were the ones the relationship experts had agreed were the best matches for me. They both seemed nice enough. I had no idea—” His lip curls in disgust. “I had no idea that they were both actresses and their job was to get me hooked while also creating all kinds of drama in the house with the other women.”
“Were all of the women actresses?” I’m going through all the faces I can remember and trying to reconcile the fact that they were actually paid fakes.
“Or models. There was a handful who were genuine, but really, they shouldn’t have been on the show. They were a bit unbalanced, you know? Obsessive types who were fixated on marriage. I wanted them off the show straight away, but again I was encouraged to keep them because it was good for the show. Harvey told me as long as the women I knew I wanted were around, to let them take care of who would leave the show and when. I trusted him.” His voice turns bitter. “I was a jackass. I thought he was looking out for me. When Sophie finally came clean and told me the truth about the show, I felt like a fool. My dad and my brother Thomas had warned me not to do it but I had been so convinced it would be the best thing I ever did. I think I was probably delirious from exhaustion.” A small smile plays across his lips. It feels like years since I last saw him smile. How is it possible it was only last night?
“Anyway, after I learned the truth, I wanted out, but Harvey threatened me with a lawsuit if I didn’t continue. Filming those last few episodes was a nightmare. With the truth out, Harvey dropped all pretense that this show had anything to do with me. He told me what to say, how to act and who to pick. Aspen and Karlie were chosen to be the final two and I was supposed to choose Aspen. Instead, I chose neither and there was nothing they could do about it. I had filmed all the episodes so I had met my contract requirements, and they couldn’t force me to re-shoot the final one. I walked away and went back to my life. When the show started airing, it was humiliating, but I did my best to ignore it and just roll with the punches. But then the final episode aired, and the shit hit the fan.” He slumps back on the sofa and turns to look at me. “They turned me into some kind of caricature of a villain. Aspen started doing all these interviews claiming I had promised her the world when the reality was that we barely talked off camera. Then they threw Sophie under the bus and started showing all of this behind-the-scenes bullshit footage, claiming we had been sleeping together the whole time. She tried to deny it, but no one was interested in hearing it. I couldn’t say anything because there is a defamation clause in my contract, and they would have sued me.” His jaw clenches. “Suddenly I was on the cover of magazines and on entertainment news shows being portrayed as a cheating asshole who used the show to try and get famous. It was a fucking joke. My life had turned into a joke.”
Miles scoots along the sofa, moving closer to me. “I should have told you all of this, but you need to know, I’m not that guy. Everything you saw today, none of it’s real and you never need to doubt me.”
I can’t stop staring at him. He’s wearing his truth like a badge of honor and I don’t doubt him. Call me stupid, but I have absolute faith in his honesty.
But that’s not the point now, is it? The point is, today was a brutal reminder of the risk you have to take in every relationship. You give someone the power to decimate you and I don’t know that the reward is worth the risk.
But I am not ready to say goodbye yet. I need just a few minutes more. To look at him. To listen to him. To commit him to memory before I lose him.
I reach down and grab my wine, taking a sip before offering it to Miles. He shakes his head, so I grasp the glass tightly and hold it in my lap.
“What does your family think about what happened?” It’s the first question that comes to mind.
He turns slightly, settling into the sofa and making himself more comfortable. I like having him here, despite the tension in the room, and I am already dreading having to watch him walk out.
“Grayson thinks it’s the funniest thing ever.” A small snort escapes me as I imagine Grayson shit-stirring. “Thomas thinks it’s the perfect argument against taking risks and uses it against me regularly, and my dad just likes to pretend it never happened.” He shakes his head, wearing an ironic smile. “He has no idea that he’s the reason I did the show in the first place.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“My parents had the perfect relationship. They met at my mom’s twenty-second birthday party and were married two months later. They had been
married for twenty-nine years when we lost her, and I don’t remember a day ever going by with a harsh word from either of them. They were the embodiment of what love should be and I always wanted to find what they had. After Lulu was born, it felt like I had lost my chance, so when the offer for the show came up, I jumped on it.”
I’m mesmerized by his story and I wonder what it would have been like to grow up with that kind of example.
“What? You’re looking at me strangely.” An unsettled expression has slipped across his face.
“No, nothing. We just had very different childhoods, that’s all.” I offer him a small smile.
“Explain.” He throws the word back at me.
“It was just me and my mom and she had a lot of boyfriends while I was growing up. Each one broke her heart.” I give a sad laugh and shrug. “Your parents taught you love makes you strong, my mother showed me that love makes you weak.” I hold his gaze. “I don’t want to be weak.”
“I don’t want that either. I won’t make you weak, Charlie.”
He sounds so sure of himself and my chest aches painfully as my heart begs me to believe him.
“But you already did.”
He glances around the disorganized room and nods once. “Right.”
A heavy silence falls upon us and then Miles catches me off guard by standing abruptly. He moves in front of me and pulls me to my feet, before cupping my cheeks with his hands.
“Loving someone does make you strong, Chicago, but it’s always a risk. It doesn’t protect you from pain, but if you trust in your love, it will give you the strength to make it through anything.” He lowers his forehead to mine. “I could love you, Charlie.” He presses his mouth to mine and I lift my hands to grip his wrists, savoring the feel of him until he pulls away. “I believe we’re worth every risk, but you need to decide if you agree.” He brushes another kiss across my lips. “I hope you do.”