Marry Me

by Bishop, Alexandria

  “Well…” She adds an extra-long pause for dramatic flair. “I once had someone comment saying the entire blog was fake and I was probably a five-hundred-pound dude sitting in my parents’ basement and so depressed with my own life that I had to make up unbelievable drama.”

  “That’s so random. Where do people come up with this shit?”

  “I have no idea. The most common, though, was people calling me a millennial snowflake and saying I should be happy I even have a job. Um, thank you? It’s not like I made them read my blog or anything like that. They chose to be there. But whatever, no skin off my back. I don’t see them getting publishing deals from the big five.”

  “Oh, does that mean you’ve heard back from your agent?”

  Last I heard, her agent was shopping her blog to potential publishers for a book deal and to some production companies for a TV show or movie. I didn’t know she’d gotten any deals or offers.

  Dakota grabs the bottle of wine back and takes a few gulps before passing it to me. Shaking her head, she says, “Yes and no. There isn’t a solid contract that has been signed or anything like that so it could obviously go nowhere, but there have been bites from all the major publishers. My agent is confident we’ll hear something. It’s just a waiting game at this point, and we’re not in any big hurry.”

  I’m not Dakota, but I would definitely be in a little bit of a hurry especially since she isn’t working right now. That said, I’m not sure what her financial situation is; maybe she makes good ad revenue from her blog. Until I built a solid nest egg, I still worked outside of making videos. Those were rough times, going to work for eight hours a day only to come home and spend another four to eight hours working on videos and my social media accounts.

  Tinley, who has been oddly quiet this entire time, finally speaks up, asking, “So what’s going on with you? You seemed a little distracted when we walked in. Was it just the trolls?”

  I could nod my head and leave it at that, but the problem is it’s not a bunch of trolls. It’s just the one, and I don’t know why this person has a problem with me. I shrug my shoulders and pick up my phone, unlocking it before handing it to Tinley.

  She brings her hand up to her mouth with a gasp then gives the phone to Dakota. Her eyes go wide as she reads through the conversation I just had. “What the fuck? Do you know who this is?”

  With a sigh, I shrug my shoulders and say, “No idea, but if you keep scrolling, you’ll notice there are a lot of them. I guess I never should have said yes to Wren in the first place.”

  “Girl, you do not need to put these peoples’ shit on your shoulders. You’re in the public eye, and unfortunately, your entire relationship and engagement was on display for the world to see. You wouldn’t be dealing with this if you weren’t both high-profile figures.”

  My sister-in-law nods her head beside her best friend and adds, “We love you, Giselle, but you can’t let these people get to you. It sucks right now, but people won’t be obsessed with this situation forever. You just have to wait for the next scandal to break. Until then, we’ll drink our wine and watch some bad reality TV. That always makes me feel better about my life.”

  I let them distract me, but I still can’t help but feel bad about everything, and I continue to think about it as a major train wreck unfolds on the TV in front of us.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Giselle: I think we’re making a mistake.

  Anders: No. Don’t do this to me—to us.

  Giselle: I need time, Anders. I didn’t wait any time at all before jumping into bed with you. That was wrong and insensitive toward Wren. I may not be marrying him, but I still love him, and seeing him that crushed is killing me.

  Anders: We’ve been waiting eighteen years for this. I feel bad about how things went down, but don’t put us off to the side like this.

  Giselle: I need to think about myself right now. Honestly, this isn’t about him. This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I’m so confused and I need to get my shit straight. Can you let me do that? Can I have this time to myself?

  Anders: If that’s what you need.

  Giselle: It is. I’m not saying this is forever. Just give me time.

  Anders: I’ll give you your space, but I’m going to be honest with you—I’m not waiting around forever.

  Giselle: I understand if you need to move on.

  Anders: NO

  Anders: THAT

  Anders: IS

  Anders: NOT

  Anders: WHAT

  Anders: I

  Anders: MEANT

  Giselle: Now who’s being dramatic? *winking emoji*

  Anders: Just trying to get your attention.

  Anders: What I meant is, you can have your time, but I’ll only wait around so long before I come after you again.

  Anders: Because Giselle…

  Giselle: Yeah?

  Anders: You and me? We’re endgame. Always have been and always will be.

  Anders: And I’m not sure how long I want to wait around before I get what’s mine.

  Giselle: *eye roll emoji*

  Anders: You do that a lot, you know…

  Giselle: What?

  Anders: Roll your eyes at me.

  Giselle: You’re being a little over the top right now. Did you want me to swoon?

  Anders: Most girls would in your situation.

  Giselle: Most girls wouldn’t have left Wren Danzig standing at the altar.

  Anders: Ouch.

  Giselle: I’m just stating a fact. Obviously, I’m not most girls, especially with the backlash I’ve been getting since the wedding that wasn’t.

  Anders: Backlash? What are you talking about? Is that dick talking to the paparazzi?

  Giselle: No. I don’t know why I said anything. Just ignore that.

  Anders: I can’t do that now.

  Anders: Tell me. What’s going on?

  Giselle: Wren doesn’t have anything to do with this.

  Anders: You expect me to believe that?

  Giselle: *WEB ADDRESS*

  Giselle: *SCREENSHOT*

  Giselle: *SCREENSHOT*

  Giselle: This is why I didn’t want to tell you.

  Giselle: I never should have said anything.

  Anders: Are you fucking kidding me right now?

  Anders: What is HE doing about it?

  Giselle: I don’t know if he even knows. I haven’t said anything to him about it and I don’t plan on it.

  Anders: And why not?

  Giselle: Why would I? It doesn’t have anything to do with him. I shouldn’t have let him put that ring on my finger if I had no intention of walking down the aisle and saying I do.

  Giselle: I’m a fraud and I deserve all of this backlash.

  Anders: No part of this is okay. If you won’t tell him, I will.

  Giselle: Anders, stay out of it. This doesn’t involve you, and it’s not your place to tell Wren anything.

  Giselle: Please don’t do this.

  Giselle: Dammit Anders text me back.

  Giselle: Anders

  * * *

  Anders: You better have a real good reason for not doing shit about this.

  Wren: Who is this?

  Anders: It’s fucking Anders. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen what your precious “fans” are doing to her.

  Wren: Are you kidding me right now? You steal her from me and now you’re attacking me? What’s your problem dude?

  Anders: *SCREENSHOT*

  Anders: *SCREENSHOT*

  Anders: Want to explain this shit?

  Wren: What am I even looking at?

  Anders: Her career is dying and fast. The internet is calling her a gold digger and a social climber, saying your entire relationship was fraudulent and she never loved you.

  Wren: And you expect me to not think the same thing?

  Anders: If you really think that then you never deserved her in the first place. You obviously don’t know her at all.

  Wren: Yeah, you’re probably
right.

  Anders: So, what are you going to do about it?

  Wren: What makes you think I can do anything about it?

  Anders: I don’t know, Hollywood, but you need to figure it out because it’s your fans who are doing this.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Anders

  Just as I step out of my car, my cell phone dings in my pocket. While crossing the parking lot, I pull it out and notice a new text from Giselle.

  Giselle: Did you have anything to do with this?

  Giselle: *WEB ADDRESS*

  I tap on the link she sent me, and it redirects me to a video on ViewTube. The first thing I notice is Wren’s face, and the title of the video is The Truth About What Happened. I have no idea what this is, but I go ahead and play it anyway.

  He’s sitting in what looks like a trailer, which makes sense since he’s supposed to be filming a movie right now—or at least that’s what Giselle said to explain why they were rushing the wedding. “Hey everybody. This is my first video on here, but don’t get too used to it because it’ll probably be my last. Hell, my agent is probably going to rip me a new one for posting this in the first place, but I’ll deal with that later.”

  Wren’s head falls into his hands and he runs his fingers through his hair before looking back up at the camera. I do feel bad for the dude. He looks like shit, and I know that’s partly my fault. His demeanor changes slightly and a mask goes up, hiding that brief moment of vulnerability. Makes sense why he’s an actor—he can hide his true feelings well.

  “I wanted to come on here and address something, and I only intend on saying this once. What happened between me and Giselle Outlaw was a very personal and private matter. There was no wrongdoing on anybody’s part. Unfortunately, not all relationships last, and ours was one of them. I have the utmost respect for Giselle, and I would appreciate it if you would stop attacking her. My real fans would never do something like spread so much hatred toward another person like that.”

  His eyes get more intense as he continues. “I do not condone bullying in any form, and I’ve seen some of the things you guys are saying. Cyberbullying is a serious issue and not one I want to associate myself with. If you’re one of the people who has been sending these nasty messages to Giselle and thinks it’s okay, then I don’t want you watching my movies. I don’t need that kind of support.”

  I pause the video to text her back. I can’t believe he actually did it. Part of me really hoped he was the good guy Giselle keeps telling everyone he is because I wanted him to do the right thing. The other part of me didn’t want it to be true because it would mean he’s really hurting right now, which makes me feel like shit, but there was no way I was going to let Giselle slip through my fingers like that.

  Me: Holy shit.

  Giselle: That doesn’t answer my question.

  Me: Yes and no…

  Giselle: What kind of an answer is that?

  Me: I sent Wren a text and brought the situation to his attention. I didn’t tell him what to do, but I did make it clear that if he didn’t do something, it would ruin your career.

  Giselle: It wasn’t your place to do that.

  Giselle: But thank you.

  Me: Wow, the princess can say thank you for receiving help?

  Giselle: How did you get Wren’s number?

  Giselle: ???

  Me: I got it from your phone when you were sleeping.

  Giselle: If it were for anything else, I’d be pissed at you, but I’ll let it slide just this once. Thank you for doing what you knew I never would.

  Me: I’d do anything for you. You should know that by now.

  Giselle: I do.

  Just seeing those words reaffirms in my mind that I’m on the right path with my plan. Putting my phone back into my pocket, I open the door and walk into the very dark building. It’s early in the day so nobody is here yet, and I’m on a mission. What am I even doing right now? Holy shit. Is this really something I’m ready to do? I find what I’m looking for immediately and place it in the front pocket of my jeans.

  My mind races and I know I have a lot to think about.

  I’ve always known I would propose to Giselle. It took me a lot longer to get here than I originally thought it would, but it’s not about the time it takes to get to the end. It’s all about the journey getting there, and that’s precisely what I intend to remind Giselle of.

  I might not be a millionaire, might not have the mansion in California, but what I do have is love. Giselle Outlaw has possessed my heart since I was nineteen years old, and no other woman will have what she has. She took it from me the minute I met her, she’s never given it back, and she’s the only woman who will ever hold it. She’d probably make fun of me for saying this, but I want us to have our Allie and Noah moment, falling asleep in each other’s arms when we’re old and gray with neither one of us waking up again. I can’t imagine either one of us living without the other.

  That might be considered morbid, because who really wants to think about death, but mostly I’m just thinking about not wanting to live a life without Giselle in it.

  I’m so incredibly confused about everything right now, but the one thing I’m sure of is that I need help to make sure my plan goes smoothly. I step foot out of the building and the sun beats down on me, causing my sweating to ramp up to a ridiculous level. My hands are shaking, and I feel like I’m going to vomit right now, but I know in my gut this is exactly what I want to do. I don’t even think twice as I pull out my phone and tap the first number in my contacts list.

  After two rings, he answers and says, “Hello?”

  My anxiety is through the roof and my words come out a lot faster than I intend. “Don’t make fun of me, okay, but I have a favor to ask of you.”

  There’s a pause before he replies, “Okay? What is it?”

  “I have a plan to win your sister back, but it’s kind of crazy.”

  “Is this the kind of thing I’m going to regret helping you with later?”

  I know he can’t see me, but I find myself shaking my head anyway as I respond, “No, it’s good. Trust me.”

  “The last time I trusted you, you went and fell in love with my sister behind my back.”

  I can’t help but laugh when he says that. I know it’s probably not going to be the easiest thing for him to get used to, but he’ll come around eventually.

  “Yeah, I’d say I’m sorry about that, but I’m not. I’m going to be like a fucking phoenix and rise from the ashes. Giselle ended what we had before it even went anywhere, but I’m going to finish it, and we’re doing this together.”

  “You better not be talking about sex right now.”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, dude. I’m being serious.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s still weird and not something I’ve wrapped my head around. What do you need me to do?”

  I tell him the address where he needs to meet me and end the call, determined to complete the other items on my list. My palms are saturated as I slide them down the front of my jeans. I have no idea how the rest of the day is going to go; I just hope I don’t fuck it up.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Giselle

  Why? Why do I always jump and feel my heart rate race whenever my phone dings with a notification? You’d think after all these years of having my phone blow up with craziness, it wouldn’t affect me, but it has been just the opposite. I’ve lived my life with complete gratitude, and I know this could all go away at any moment. I don’t want that to ever happen, but I’m still very appreciative for what I have in the moment. I pull up the notification on my screen, although I’m a little hesitant about what I’m going to find once I see the title. If this is a smear article, I don’t want to have any part of it.