This can’t be good.
“Gage. Ellie. It goes without saying that we’re disappointed you felt you had to run away to spend time together, but of course we understand that the path to love can lead us to make rash, irresponsible decisions.”
“You do?” I ask in puzzlement. This seems…odd.
“I do,” she says with a tight smile. “What we at Jilted can’t condone, however, is this.”
She pulls her hands from behind her back and holds up an iPhone. I recognize the case instantly. It’s the custom High Tee branded case Marjorie ordered for both of us the day we launched.
It’s my phone. My very forbidden, against-the-rules phone.
I feel Gage stiffen beside me.
“One of the other women found this under your pillow, Ellie. Is it yours?”
I nod. No point in denying it.
Raven sighs, although I suspect it’s precisely the answer she wanted. “Having a phone is in direct violation of the Jilted house rules. I’m afraid we have no choice but to ask you to leave, Ellie.”
I hear a few gasps of surprise from the line of women. I have no idea if the surprise is real or for the benefit of the camera, but I’m too numb to feel much more than resignation.
I can’t figure out if I’m relieved to have the clean break dropped in my lap or devastated because it means this thing with me and Gage is really and truly over. One thing I am sure of is that they’re hoping for a scene. It’s evident in everyone’s expression, in the way the camera guy’s even more up in my face than usual.
I feel Gage shift almost imperceptibly closer to me in a silent show of support, and it’s exactly what I need.
I give the room my best smile. “I understand completely. I’ll go get packed.”
This time the women’s gasps are real, and both Raven and Adam look temporarily nonplussed. This obviously isn’t the reaction they were expecting from the woman who just came home from spending the night with the contestant. They were expecting dramatic protests from the front-runner, not quiet acceptance.
I can’t bring myself to look at Gage, so instead I take a step toward the stairs.
“Wait,” Raven says sharply. “You know, Adam, it’s just occurred to me…”
I nearly smile when my gaze catches on Paisley rolling her eyes. Just occurred to me my ass…nothing about this is spontaneous, and we all know it.
“Gage never used his veto in that first episode,” Raven is saying.
Adam’s eyes go dramatically wide, and this time it’s me who rolls my eyes. Oh, come on. This is getting ridiculous.
“You’re right,” Adam says solemnly, turning to Gage. “Gage, perhaps it was fortuitous that you didn’t use that early veto to save one of the women from the first round. It means you have one available to you now to save Ellie. If you want.”
What?
My head whips instinctively toward Gage, who’s gone perfectly still.
He’s staring at Adam and Raven, although other than the sudden tension in his jaw that I suspect only I recognize, he doesn’t react.
“It’s your decision, Gage,” Adam adds unnecessarily.
Slowly Gage turns to face me.
You know how in movies, right before someone dies, their life flashes before their eyes in a montage? That’s a bit what it feels like in the moment when Gage’s eyes meet mine. I remember our first meeting, when Gage the actor fed me that bullshit line about wanting to meet his one true love. I remember telling him his eyes look like guacamole. I remember him buying a women’s skirt from a gift shop so I wouldn’t be embarrassed. I remember him getting weirdly passionate about The Godfather. I remember the feel of his hands on my face right before he kissed me, and the butterflies when he did kiss me.
The warmth in his expression as we stare at each other in silent communication makes my breath catch.
His question in the car reprises and passes silently between us.
What if you stayed?