Blind Reality

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Joey, you don’t have to pretend.” I try to sound confident, self-assured. Maybe she doesn’t remember, or she does and this is her way of telling me it was horrible.

  “You’re cute when you’re flustered, but honestly, we didn’t have sex so stop trying to say we did because I’m getting upset.”

  Joey starts to step away, but I grab her quickly and pull her back to me. I search for any sign that she’s lying, but I’m unable to tell.

  “I’m sorry, what can I do to make it better?”

  “Kiss me.”

  “Kiss you?” I question.

  “Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like I’m the only one in the world that makes you smile.” Joey falls back into my arms. “Kiss me like I’m the one you want to spend the rest of your life with.” She’s now chest to chest with me and the sexual tension is heavy. Joey licks her lips and my eyes watch the slow motion of her tongue.

  “Ah hell,” I say before pulling her into my arms and crashing my lips against hers. I know we had sex last night, and that’s a game changer. I just have to figure out why she’s so hell bent on telling me we didn’t. Everything with her is now intensified and turning her away from this point on is going to be extremely difficult. Maybe she knows this, or maybe this is just part of her game plan. Either way, I’m screwed. I’m done for. Joey Freaking Wilson officially owns me.

  In the past two weeks, I want to say that things with Joshua have stilled. That we don’t talk unless the cameras are on. We don’t kiss, touch, or make ridiculous eyes at each other. That would all be a lie. Everything changed after we had sex. While he sometimes initiates contact, he holds back a lot. I don’t know if it’s because he’s unsure and now questioning his feelings or what. What I do know is he makes my knees weak, my stomach flip-flop, and my skin tingle. He gives me a headache, makes my heartbreak, and my imagination plots ways to cause him harm. I want to tell him what he knows, but saying the words out loud to him can only have one reaction—it was a mistake. I’d rather pretend that we didn’t have sex than to hear those words tumble off his lips. There isn’t any amount of kissing or subtle touches that would put my heart back together after that.

  I love him, but won’t admit it to anyone or say the words out loud. Saying them out loud makes everything seem real. I can barely admit it to myself on most days because I’m not sure if it’s genuine love, or if it’s the built up infatuation I’ve had with him for so many years. Either way, when he’s in the room my senses are heightened, and after our drunken sexcapades, everything is off the charts crazy.

  I finally feel like I fit in with the others in the house. Amanda’s icy cold demeanor has changed to tepid. Not a great improvement, but better than nothing. Once Gary started to physically change, so did her attitude. I have to give him credit; he’s worked out and watched what he’s eaten all to impress her. I’m not sure that’s something I would’ve done for someone, but he’s proven that she’s important to him. Amanda also curbed her wandering eyes for Josh and for that I’m thankful. Now she’s taken to actually eyeing her husband, and I know he appreciates it. Josh says Gary gossips like a high school girl and I told Josh that there are some things I just don’t want to know.

  My husband is the one I want to be my everything, my whole world and every other clichéd analogy I can come up with. Every time I think about him and me outside of the house, my heart dies a little bit. Once we’re off this studio lot, I’ll never see him again unless I go completely fangirl and camp out at a premiere for a chance photo from behind the barricade.

  If I have to be a fangirl, so be it.

  I can’t imagine being that girl, but who knows. Would he treat me like a fan? Sign my poster, pose for a selfie and move on? Or would he have his security team come get me and have me walk the carpet as his cordial ex-wife. With an annulment I won’t be an ex, it’ll be as if our marriage never happened. I can change that by telling him we had sex, but the outcome isn’t favorable. Neither is being erased from history, and only having proof of our marriage available online or during next season’s show, reminding viewers of what happened in this season. Dwelling on what’s going to happen in two months will get me nowhere, fast. Taking life by the horns is what I need to do. That and meditate, and possibly walk around in my bikini more. I could bake a cake. Cake is always good.

  The house is boring. We eat, sleep, lie in the sun, and go swimming. Twice a week we have competitions and once a day we go into the confession room and air our dirty laundry. Joshua says the best is yet to come, but I don’t see how. He kindly reminds me that I’m not a fan of the show and that I can never let my guard down because at any moment they can change the way the game is played. He says I’m unprepared. I say he’s too worried about winning. The only exciting thing that has happened lately is we named the computer monotone voice that comes on and tells us what to do. Her name is Linda, courtesy of Gary and him telling “her” to shut up because she reminds him of her mother. The name stuck even with Amanda mumbling something to the effect of how she’s not so eager to meet his mother now.

  That’s something I envy about Millie and Amanda—they’re going to meet their in-laws, not that I’d expect Josh to introduce me to his parents, but I’d like for him to meet mine. My parents would like him, and not because of who he is or what he does, but because of what he means to me. They won’t, however, be entirely thrilled to find out about my impending annulment and I’m sure my mother will find some way to sue the show for fraud and whatnot. My mother loves to stir the pot, create drama where there doesn’t need to be any. If she had thought about it, she would have sued McDonald’s first for the “hot” coffee, but thankfully she missed the boat on that one.

  Josh nestles in behind me, his arm resting on my stomach. From the outside we look like we’re in love. He stands with me, holds my hand, and steals kisses. When I go to bed, he follows. When I take too long in the bathroom before going to sleep, I’m always rewarded with his sexy ass in bed, reading a book. I like to take as long as possible just so I can burn that vision into my memory for the future. Most nights follow the same routine. If he’s reading, he watches me cross the room all while closing the book and setting it somewhere near the nightstand. He pulls the blankets back for me and beckons for me to crawl into his arms. We’ll make out until things get heavy and then he finds a way to get me onto my side so he can hold me.

  This could be our last night in the red room, or the beginning of another week. It’s his favorite. Not once have we spent a week in the other room. When we have to switch he runs and puts our bags down before Gary or Cole can do it. It’s childish, and I love it. I want to be in the room where it all started.

  It’s competition day. Today will be different from the others. Technically, today is our one-month anniversary, according to Linda, who keeps us apprised of information like this. Being without television, our cells phone, and the Internet has been tough, but it’s also been a blessing. I like the solitude that comes with being tech free, and I enjoy the time that we’ve all been able to get to know each other without the incessant ringing of a phone. Besides, I honestly don’t want to know what people are saying about me being Josh’s wife, or how the media is portraying Jules Maxwell, his ex. I don’t want to know if they feel sorry for her.

  Today’s competition will be for a luxury item and master suite. You can win both, one, or nothing. I just want to win the master suite. The luxury items won’t do me very well. I mean, what am I going to do with a designer kitchen?

  My fingers move along his arm, gliding up and down in a rhythmic pattern. Josh pulls me closer, kissing me just behind my ear. “Why are you awake?”

  I shrug and try to move even closer to him, earning a groan. I know what I’m doing, and have no doubt that he knows as well. “It’s competition day, they make me nervous.”

  “Why? We can beat them.”

  “It’s not all about winning. They’re stressful. I hate that they’re live and people can see us mess up or th
ey will read into an expression we give each other. I feel like I have to be ‘on’ all the time. What if I want to drop the f-bomb or something?”

  Joshua laughs, his chest vibrating against my back. “You saying fuck would be hilarious and the producers would probably let it go through if we weren’t delayed a few seconds. Lord knows Amanda cusses like a sailor.”

  He sits up on his elbow and moves my face over enough to see him. “There’s a team of people in this tiny room monitoring everything during the live network show. Only the people who pay for After Midnight get to hear your pretty little mouth swear.”

  “I don’t swear.”

  “You fib. I’ve heard you in the bathroom.” He pushes the hair that has fallen out of my ponytail away from my face. “When you think no one can hear you, I can.”

  I adjust slightly and stare down at my stalker. “Why are you lurking near my shower stall?”

  Joshua blinks a few times as if he’s clearing something from his eyes. He knows he’s said something that he can’t back out of now, and I’m not going to let him.

  “Tell me,” I plead with my hand resting on his cheek. I want him to trust me. Trust us. Day by day I work to take down his walls and I can see them crumble. He just needs to let me in. “It’s just you and me in this room, whisper it to me.”

  When he leans forward, his stubble tickles my cheek. “Sometimes, I think about joining you,” he whispers just before pulling my earlobe into his mouth.

  “Newlyweds, please go to the backyard.” Linda’s annoying voice echoes throughout, killing the moment we were about to share. Joshua jumps up, leaving me shocked and speechless, and unable to get a better answer or even respond. Right now, I want to drag him into the shower and see just how serious he was.

  Our room is quiet, even with him in the corner getting his team clothes on for the day. The old me would avoid the elephant in the room, brush it under the rug, but not this Joey. When this game is over, I want him to remember me as a formidable companion and teammate. He needs to remember that I didn’t back down from any challenge or task put in front of me by him or this game.

  “We’ll talk about what you just told me later,” I say, as I get out of bed and grab my clothes. Leaving the room is the last thing I want to do, but I need to let my words to seep in. “Let’s go win. We need that master suite.” I fight every urge I have to look back and see his expression.

  As I enter the bathroom common area, giggling rings out from the stall. Millie steps in just after me and we both cover our mouths to stifle our own laughter.

  “Oh my God,” I mouth as we make our way to the faucets. I quickly brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair, pulling it back up into a ponytail. If I’ve learned anything about this game, it’s not to take a shower until your comps are done for the day. Chances are they’ll include something gross and you’ll just end up in the shower again.

  Stepping into a stall, I quickly change. I’m not shy about changing in front of her or Amanda, but with Gary in here there’s no way. Even with him and Amanda connecting, he still gives me a funky vibe. When I smack my head against the sidewall I make a mental note to knock Josh silly for having me vacate our room to change. Although, if I bring it up with him, he’ll remind me that I’m the one who left and that he never asked me to. He’s too literal sometimes.

  “Newlyweds, your game begins in three minutes.”

  Linda starts a countdown and I’m curious if this is for Amanda and Gary’s benefit. When I step out, Joshua is leaning against the counter with his ankles crossed. His arms are folded across his chest causing his biceps to bugle out. The white tank top he’s wearing makes me pray for a water competition today. I have two options: ignore him, or go to him and put this morning’s comment aside.

  The choice is easy. I step up to him and place a firm and lingering kiss on his lips, allowing my hands to trail over his muscles. His skin prickles from my touch and the inner goddess in me is doing a freaking cheer because of this reaction. He responds by gripping my hips, keeping me in place.

  “Let’s go win us the master,” I murmur against his lips. He smiles and slides his right hand into mine. I leave my clothes on the bathroom floor, knowing it’s tacky, but in my mind I’m getting some time with Josh that I really need right now.

  We step out into the game ready backyard and I groan. Before us looms a monstrosity of hell. I survey the course and am thankful I chose not to shower yet. We have to slide down what looks like oil, fall into a pit of flour, and army crawl through honey. Oh this ought to be so much fun. Millie is going to kick all of our butts. Her police training has prepared her for this course. As I look at Josh to convey my worry, his response is to flex and kiss each bicep.

  Freaking men!

  Amanda and Millie step out, followed by Gary and Cole. The guys instantly start talking about oil and honey. The three of us roll our eyes and I pray this won’t be what I think it is or what the guys want it to be. They seem to be forgetting that there is flour involved and it’ll be in places they don’t want to think about.

  “You men are so transparent,” Amanda says, with her arms crossed. For the first time in the show, I agree with her.

  “Newlyweds, today you’ll be vying not only for master suite, but also for a new hot tub!” Patrick Jonas is too excited for this competition. I know it’s his job, but even he should feel a little remorse for us.

  Everyone claps, but me. I don’t need or want a hot tub. Where would I put it? In that imaginary house that Joshua and I are going to share in Barbieland?

  “This is how the game works. You’ll each climb to the top of the slide, with one spouse going first. You’ll slide down and enter the pit, each of you looking for a letter. Once you have a letter, you’ll crawl through the honey and take your letter to your board. Once the letter is placed on your board, your spouse may start their turn. The object of the game is to spell the longest word possible.”

  “Do you want to go first?” I ask as we make our way to the top of the slide.

  “Yeah, sure,” he replies. “Do you know what word we want to spell?”

  I shake my head, not having the foggiest idea. “Let’s just gather a few and see what we can come up with. We’ll have to be smart about letter picking after that.”

  “I agree.”

  The countdown begins and Josh, Gary, and Millie are lined up on the line to start. All I can think as Joshua slides down is, Wow, my man in oil, who knew?

  Who is the sick bastard behind this competition? Give me oil and a hot babe, preferably the one I’m married to, any day. But when you throw in flour and honey, it’s just a flat out mess. Don’t get me wrong, watching Joey roll around in anything is a sight to see, but the fact that she looks like a stay puft marshmallow is a slight turn off. I know that’s not saying much considering I look the same, but all men fantasize about watching their girl get all oiled up. It’s just a total buzzkill when she face-plants in a pool of flour.

  Joey and I are working well as a team. After three letters we agreed to go all out and spell ‘happiness’. It was her idea, and I quickly agreed. She’s clearly the brains of our operation since she was able to come up with our word with the letters a-p-n.

  We look like crap. Our hair is matted and our bodies have this caked on composite that is meant to slow us down. My shoes are ruined, as I wasn’t smart enough to take mine off like she was. This has been the worst competition to date by far. I trudge out of the vat of honey and slowly make my way to the board. Joey is already in the flour looking for our next letter. The longer it takes, the harder it is to move. The shower beckons me and I don’t care if I drag this crap through the house, I’m not waiting for the outside one to become free. I feel gross and things are sticking to places they shouldn’t be.

  I make my way toward the stairs; each step seems to be slower than the last. As soon as Joey is at the board I look quickly to see what letters we need before climbing up the steps. We only need two more.

 
“This sucks,” Cole mumbles as he tries to knock the goop off his hand.

  “I know.”

  “Can’t we just forfeit?”

  I shake my head. “It’s for the master suite. Someone has to win the room.”

  “I don’t even care. We can just screw in the shower,” he mutters as he leans against the makeshift wall. I don’t want to think about him and Millie in the shower because one, it makes me jealous that I’m not doing that with Joey and two, I’m absolutely desperate for a shower.

  “Here goes nothing.” Sitting down on the slide I push off. Flour flies up into my mouth, making me gag. You’d think by now we’d have all the flour on our bodies, but it’s procreating like magic. It seems like each time I get down here there’s more and more white crap to make my life miserable.

  The first letter I find is one we don’t need, but it sticks to my hand. I shake it loose, only to have it fly and hit Cole in the back of his head.

  “Sorry, man,” I say as I move the flour around more, getting on my knees to search the bottom. I find another letter, an “F”, and quickly look at the board. I’ve forgotten what I need. Joey is standing off to the side watching and if I could see clearly, I’d probably be able to see if she’s angry and telling me to hurry up. I can’t even hear well right now; my ears are clogged up full of crap. I reach down again and find another letter quickly. I pray that this is something I need because I have to get out of here.

  My arm moves slowly, the flour fighting with the oil and many layers of honey. When it breaks free, an “S” stares back at me. The little boy inside of me rejoices and quickly cries when I get to the honey. I drop to my knees and then my elbows and army crawl my way through the thick amber goop. I used to like the smell of honey, but not anymore.

  All bees must die after this.

  As soon as I slap the “S” on the board Joey is already down the slide. She’s moving so much faster than I am. I’m in shape, but this comp is kicking my ass. I walk to the edge and cheer on Joey while she searches for the last letter needed.