Dash looked good. Really, really good. Whoever had been tailoring his suits had done a damn good job of accentuating all of his best features. His arms. His thighs. His butt. Not that I was noticing. Because I wasn’t. Because that would be pathetic.

I had hoped that I would show up at the Hamptons, see Dash, and realize that I didn’t love him. That everything that had happened had just been built up in a ridiculous dramatic fashion, and when confronted with reality, I’d see that I was just being stupid.

It didn’t work that way. At all.

In fact, it was the opposite.

Because I loved him. A lot. So fricking much that it hurt just to look at him.

Which is exactly what I had to do. I had to stand to the side of the camera with Andrea and watch the man I loved propose to someone else. I was officially the biggest idiot in the entire world. Why had I thought that this would be a good idea? Why had I thought that this would bring me closure?

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Dash was standing on the sand with Cal, who was speaking directly to the camera, recapping the “incredible journey” that Dash had been on that season.

“We’ve been along for the ride—literally and figuratively,” Cal was saying, wearing his best “I have actual human emotions” face. “We’ve gotten to know twelve gorgeous women, all of whom have gotten to know Dash, all who hoped that they might be the one to win his heart. A heart that has been through a lot in the past few years.”

I could see a muscle in Dash’s jaw jump at that comment. I couldn’t blame him. The show had taken advantage of both of us, but it had been Dash whose secret hurt had been exposed to the whole country. A secret that had catapulted his fame, and his standing on the show. After the episode had aired, even the online forums that had been lukewarm on Dash as the suitor had gone absolutely nuts over him.

No doubt that’s exactly why Justin had done it, and why Patrick had encouraged it. They knew what America wanted. They wanted their beefcake with a side of mental anguish. They didn’t care whether or not it was something that Dash wanted to be shared. They didn’t care about Dash at all. They just cared about bonuses and ratings.

This wasn’t a world I wanted to be in. I didn’t want to work somewhere where I was expected to manipulate people to get viewers. That wasn’t for me.

Nothing about Ever After had been what I expected. There was nothing here for me. It was a show without a soul, without a heart. If it wasn’t so shitty, I would have laughed at the irony. Instead, I just watched as Cal turned to Dash.

“You’ve got a very difficult decision ahead,” Cal said.

“Yes, I do.” Dash’s hair was getting ruffled by the breeze, a lock of it falling over his forehead. I wanted to brush it aside.

But we were too far apart. In more ways than one.

I told myself that I should just walk away. That the closure I had come to get wasn’t going to happen, and I should just leave. I didn’t need to put myself through this pain.

“Kimmie and Savannah are both very special girls.” Cal was still talking. “I do not envy your decision.”

“It’s not an easy one,” Dash agreed. “Both of them are beautiful and smart, and I’ve come to know them and their families over these past few weeks. It’s been a honor to be invited into their lives.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to remain in contact with whoever you don’t choose in the end?” Cal wanted to know.

Dash offered a charming smile. “I hope so,” he said, his eyes shifting away from the camera, searching the crew that had gathered around.

I didn’t know what he was looking for. Until his eyes landed on me.

It was like getting socked in the stomach. His gaze was powerful, intense, and I could feel a thousand unnamed emotions pass between us.

“I would hate to lose something special,” Dash said, still looking at me. “Because of a show.”

“Cut!” Andrea shouted. “We’re going to commercial. Dash!” She walked over to him. “You need to look in the camera,” she reminded him. “Everything you’re giving us is great, but you can’t let your eyes wander when you speak. Either look at Cal or at the camera, OK?”

“OK.” But Dash was still looking at me. “Can you give me a moment?” he asked, and finally Andrea turned to see what—or who—he was looking at.

Her expression softened when she saw it was me.

“Just a few minutes,” she told him. “We’re live on the air again in four minutes.”

He nodded and stepped out of the ring of camera light, heading straight towards me. Part of me wanted to run away. The other part wanted to run towards him. Instead I didn’t move. Just planted my feet in the sand and watched him stride towards me, looking like every woman’s fantasy in a gorgeous tux on the beach as the sun was about to set behind him.

“Paige,” his voice was low as he reached me.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. I wanted to kiss him.

Curling my hands into fists, I forced myself to speak.

“Dash,” I managed. “I just wanted to—”

Just wanted to what? I didn’t know what I wanted. Or rather, I didn’t know how to get what I wanted. Because what I wanted was for things to be normal. For things to just be about the two of us, without a show and two bachelorettes and the entire country between us.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” I finally said. Because I knew that was all I could offer him. An apology. And the truth. “I could have been more careful,” I told him. “But you need to know that I had nothing to do with that footage being shot. I didn’t know there were cameras there, and if I had, I would have told you. I wouldn’t have let it happen. If you believe anything, I hope you’ll believe that.”

The words were spilling out of me, followed by tears spilling down my cheeks. I wiped them away and kept going. Because I had to finish this. I had to tell him. Even though it would break my heart to do so, I had to be honest with him.

“I don’t care about the show. I don’t care about ratings or my job. I care about you. And not because of your fame or money. Not because you were a Formula One racer or because you were the suitor. I care about you because I like the person I am when I’m with you. Because you make me laugh. And you make me feel beautiful and special. You make me feel like myself. Because you’re smart and funny and one of the kindest, most generous men I’ve ever met. And I would never do anything to hurt you,” I said tearfully. “Because I don’t just like you. I love you. I love you so much.”

The wind blew my hair into my face as I watched Dash’s expression. It was unreadable. He just stood there, saying nothing, not moving an inch. I didn’t know what to do. I felt my heart breaking all over again, the pain warring with humiliation at putting myself out there so completely and receiving nothing in return. Nothing but rejection.

“I should go,” I finally said, unable to keep standing there waiting for him to say something.

“Paige,” he finally said, reaching his hand out towards me.

My heart skipped a beat hopefully, foolishly, but before he could say anything else, Andrea interrupted us, her face flushed, her eyes round.

“Dash!” She looked frantic. “We’re live in twenty seconds!” She grabbed his arm, shooting me an apologetic look. “Did you not hear us calling?”

I certainly hadn’t.

Dash was dragged off before he could say anything. I just stood there, my shoes filling with sand, and watched as Dash was shoved in front of the camera again, Kimmie and Savannah standing behind him, looking gorgeous in their sparkling gowns.

The sun had begun to set, and the whole thing couldn’t have been more romantic. It was going to be the perfect finale, exactly what the viewers wanted. I knew I should leave, that I had my answer, and whatever closure I was going to get had to start now. But I stayed.

Who was Dash going to choose? I looked at my contestants, at Kimmie and Savannah, and wondered what they were thinking. Both of them looked stunning—Kimmie in a beaded blue gown, her raven hair shimmering in waves down her back.

Had Dash slept with her, as he had threatened to do? I had watched each second of their time together since leaving the show, searching for answers, searching for hints that something had happened between the two of them, but I had been unable to tell. The show had made it impossible for me to tell what was real and what was fake anymore.

But I was pretty sure that Savannah still thought the whole thing was real. That her feelings for Dash were real. Standing on the beach in a pale yellow gown that she wore like a second skin, her blonde hair in soft ringlets on her shoulders. What man wouldn’t want to be with someone like Savannah?

And she kept looking at Dash like he had hung the goddamn moon. I wanted to hate her, but I couldn’t. We had all made her fall for him, myself included. It was the show’s job to make her like Dash. And if we succeeded, if I had succeeded, then I had no one to blame but myself.

I kept telling myself to walk away, but I didn’t. I stayed as Andrea counted down until they were live on air again. And I watched as Cal handed Dash the pendant. The silver and crystal heart-shaped pendant that he was going to be giving the girl of his choice.

“Dash,” Cal said, giving him and the camera a big smile. “Now is the time for you to tell us—all of America—and one of these lovely ladies who you want to give your heart to, and spend the rest of your life with.”

There was a long pause. A long, long pause. I could see Andrea exchanging worried looks with other crew members as Dash stared down at the pendant in his hand. Everyone on set was wearing a similar expression—slight confusion behind their overly large smiles.

“Dash,” Cal prompted. “Have you made your decision?”

Dash raised his head and looked directly into the camera.

“I have,” he said, and then glanced down at the pendant again. “I didn’t come on this show to find love,” he began, and I could see Savannah attempt to exchange a look with Kimmie, who was keeping her smile pasted on her face while staring straight ahead.

“And I definitely never expected to find true love on this show,” Dash continued. “I never thought I’d meet someone who drove me totally insane, and also made me happier than I’d ever been in my life. Someone who saw me for me. Who didn’t see my racing career or my money as the most appealing parts of me. Someone who was funny and beautiful and smart. Someone who made me feel like myself.”

I froze. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“And I was a fool.” Dash was still looking down at the pendant. “Because I let my own anger and bitterness blind me. I allowed myself to believe the worst in this person, even when I knew she couldn’t have betrayed me. She wouldn’t have.”

My hand went to my chest, where I could feel my heart now pounding double time.

“The woman I love is braver than I am. Because even though I hurt her, even though I accused her of doing terrible things, even though I didn’t trust her, she came back. She forced me to see the truth. Forced me to see what a fool I was being. And she told me that she loved me. And when she did, I just stood there.”

Finally Dash looked up. He didn’t look at Cal or the contestants or even at the camera. He looked right at me.

“But I’m not going to keep standing here,” he said to me. “Because I never want to hurt her again. I love her.”

I was certain I was hallucinating. That had to be the only explanation for why I thought Dash was going on camera, on live TV, and saying that he loved me.

But then I realized that everyone was staring at me. Not just Dash, but Cal, and Kimmie—who was glaring, rather than staring—and Savannah, and Andrea, and the whole rest of the crew. Half of whom let out an audible gasp when Dash walked off of the set and headed towards me. They were still live, so the camera crew scrambled to follow him.

“Paige.” Dash stood in front of me.

Lights were now blazing brightly all around me, and I realized that I wasn’t wearing any makeup at all. I wasn’t even wearing lip gloss. And I had just spent the last two weeks sitting on a couch and crying, so this was definitely not the best time for my close-up.

But then I looked up at Dash, handsome, sweet, perfect Dash, and the last thing I cared about was how I would appear on camera. Because Dash was looking at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, as if that would keep any part of what was happening right now a secret.

He gave me a sheepish grin. “I’m trying to do the right thing,” he told me. “Though I guess my timing isn’t great.”

I let out a laugh that was half a sob. “It could use some improving,” I agreed, a tear sliding down my cheek.

Dash frowned, his hand coming up to cup my face, his thumb drying my tears.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

“I can’t help it,” I told him, the tears coming faster now.

“Are you sad?” he wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I’m not sure what’s going on.”

He leaned forward and put his forehead against mine.

“I kind of messed this up, didn’t I?” Dash let out a breath. “I’m lousy at this whole expressing your feelings thing, in case you haven’t noticed.”

I put my hands on his chest, needing some sort of stability. I was afraid my knees were going to give out and I’d collapse in the sand at his feet. So I gripped his tuxedo shirt hard, no doubt wrinkling it.

“What are those feelings, exactly?” I forced myself to ask.

“You didn’t hear me the first time?” Dash wanted to know.

“I’m not sure I wasn’t hallucinating,” I confessed. “Because I’m pretty sure you told a camera, and America, that you loved me.”

Dash laughed. “You weren’t hallucinating,” he said, becoming serious again. He looped his arms around my waist. “Because I did tell a camera, and America, that I love you.” He shook his head. “But I guess I should have just told you.”

I gave a little nod, looking up at him.

Dash took a small step back from me, and held out the pendant he still had. It glittered in the light, and I couldn’t help thinking it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. Second only to the man who was holding it out towards me.

“Paige Pollack,” he said, his voice, his face, serious. “You are the most incredible, infuriating woman I’ve ever met. You never give up, never give me an inch, and you never let me drive. It should drive me crazy, but I love it. Because I love you.”

My heart caught in my throat, and the tears began falling in earnest now.

“I was a moron,” Dash continued. “And I’m sorry. I should have believed you. I should have listened to you.”

“I understand,” I told him, trying my best to keep it together, and doing a damn poor job of it. I was certain I looked like a soggy, sobbing mess. “I’m sorry it happened.”

“Me too,” he said, cupping my cheek, and tilting my face up towards his. I met his eyes, and everything inside me leapt for joy. “But maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I need to stop hiding from my demons. Stop running from them.” He leaned close to me. “Will you help me?”

I nodded. “I’d love that,” I said. “Because I love you too.”

There was another audible sigh, and this time, when I looked up, I saw that it had come from Savannah, who was standing with the crew. She was wearing a huge smile, and when I caught her eye, she gave me a big thumbs up. Kimmie, on the other hand, was scowling so hard, I thought her face might crack. Everyone else was just staring, their eyes wide.

But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about Kimmie or the cameras or anything else. All I cared about was Dash. And how good it felt to tell him how I felt.

So I did it again.

“I love you,” I said.

He grinned at me. “I like the sound of that.” He took a curl and twisted it around his finger. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.”

“Good” I told him. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying it.”

Then, with all of America watching, Dash leaned down and kissed me. And kissed me. And kissed me.

His kiss was the only thing I was aware of. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. It was everything I had ever wanted, and more. I couldn’t get enough. And I no longer had to hide it. No longer had to pretend. I loved Dash, and he loved me. Nothing else mattered.

“Cut!”