“Barry, hi, this is Joshua Wilson. I’m wondering if you could tell me where my wife went? She was frantic after our meeting telling me that she had a flight to catch, but both of us are confused as to why I’m not flying with her.” The lie falls easily from my lips. Joey wasn’t frantic because I wasn’t going with her, it’s because she was trying to get away from me. She was doing everything she could to avoid the elephant in the room.
“Hey, Josh. Yeah, man, yesterday after the show your attorney called to tell us you had filed for a divorce and so when she asked for a separate room, we had to come up with a contingency plan to keep this out of the press for a bit. You guys were a fan favorite and we need to keep up appearances until the press tour is over. What you guys do after that is your own business, but you’re technically obligated to Married Blind until the media junkets are done.”
I stand in the hallway with people walking by me. My head is down so I can’t tell if they recognize me or not, and right now I don’t care because the words “your attorney called” are being repeated over and over again while I try to determine if I heard Barry correctly. Unfortunately, I did, but for the life of me I can’t understand why Jason would call them. I took the papers with me. They’re in my room right now and heading nowhere near the courthouse to be filed.
“I’m sorry, Barry, my attorney misspoke.”
“Glad to hear it, but uh … hang on one sec.”
He pulls his phone away from his ear and covers it. The voices in the background are muffled and I hear some clapping.
“So listen, if you’re interested we’d like you to make sure all the viewers know how much you love Joey …”
I stop listening when he says ‘love’. I’m trying not to think about being in love with her. It’s not that I don’t want to be. It’s that I don’t know how to love her without being a soul-sucking-piece-of-shit like my father. I watched him destroy my mother, and every consecutive woman after her. The examples given to me aren’t exactly ones I should follow.
“So what do you think?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, what? Can you repeat what you said?”
“Yeah, we want you to declare your love for Joey on national television. Really do it up. Talk about how great it is to be married to her, all the mushy shit you do in the movies.”
“Um …”
“It’s great, right?” I swear I hear him clap his hands in the background, but I can’t be sure. Everything coming out of his mouth is muffled.
“Um …” seems to be the only coherent word I can produce at the moment. I look up and notice people milling around. In the corner, there’s a guy in a black coat. He’s looking around as if he’s waiting to get caught. I know the minute I look away from him, he’ll be taking my picture or pulling out the recording device he’s hiding in his hand.
“I sense hesitation?”
“No, not at all just … indifference,” I tell him. I’d like to believe that if Joey and I were in a room together, I’d tell her that I was falling in love with her, or completely fallen. Thing is, I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like—to be in love. If it’s this ache I’m feeling, or emptiness, knowing I’m not going to see her for a few days, I must be in love. But to publicly declare it on national television without telling her first just seems wrong.
“Do you love her?”
And there’s the million-dollar question. Do I love her?
“I’ll do it, but on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Barry asks.
“You give me her number. We didn’t have an opportunity to exchange numbers after the show was over.”
Barry does what I ask and texts her number. Now I can at least talk to her and make sure she doesn’t forget me.
The sun has barely risen when the Town Car arrives a
t my apartment. Last night, Rob wanted to talk like a schoolgirl about the show, Jules, and Joey. All I wanted to do was sleep, or lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and wonder what Joey was doing in New York. Was she out on the town? Did her and her PA go to a Broadway show? Did her PA take her to Times Square so she could people watch? And what about Junior’s for cheesecake? These are all things I would’ve done with Joey to show her what else is out there in the world.
Yesterday, after I hung up with Barry, I called Jason and fired him. It was short, sweet, and to the point. ‘Your services are no longer needed. Thank you for the work you’ve done for me, but from this point forward we’re no longer associates.’ To say he was pissed would be an understatement. He went on and on about how he’s only protecting me from the gold-digging whore that Joey is. As soon as he said that, I knew I had made the right decision. I know I don’t know Joey outside of the Married Blind house, but I do know she’s not a gold-digger.
After that phone call ended, I sought out a reporter. I was going to be the first to break the news that I fired Jason. Joshua Wilson fires long-time Attorney Jason MacNicholl for falsifying documents. When I saw this piece hit the web, part of me was excited. The other part, not so much because I thought of Jason as a friend and regardless of looking out for my best interests, when your client tells you he doesn’t want something you listen.
Rob was gracious enough to give me a rundown of the confession room drama. I didn’t really want to hear it from him because I had hoped Joey and I would watch the season together, but Rob couldn’t wait to fill me in on how Joey reacted in a few of them. When he didn’t see my expression change, he asked the same thing Barry did earlier: Do you love her?
“I think I do.”
I say those words over and over as the driver navigates early LA traffic. I’m like the Little Engine that Could except my uphill battle is three thousand miles away and has already been on national TV this morning with Bronx and Rebekah. She was so vague when asked about our marriage, making comments about how she really enjoyed the show and that I’m really nice.
Nice? That’s how she sees me? I mean, nice is great, but I’m her husband. I want her to tell the world how she felt about me inside the house and let me fix the rest. I want her to answer her phone when I call and not send it to voicemail the second she sees a California area code pop up on her phone. I’m banking on the fact that she doesn’t know it’s me calling and is avoiding any numbers she doesn’t recognize. I’m grasping at anything right now that will help me keep my sanity.