The Lookout wasn’t crowded. It was early evening, and a Wednesday. A few barflies held down stools at the bar, and a handful of people were playing pool. But other than that, it was fairly quiet.

I wasn’t here to drink, necessarily, so I ordered a club soda with lime and chose a table. Scarlett had texted me earlier, asking if I’d like to meet her. I was grateful for the invitation. Not just for the excuse to get out, but because it felt good to be included. Like I was connected to more than just my dad here in Bootleg Springs.

The next episode of Roughing It had aired, and it had been worse than the last. I hadn’t watched, but a glance at the celebrity gossip columns told me everything I needed to know. The producers had edited the footage to make it look like Brock and I had hooked up again. In a bed this time.

To make matters worse, Brock and Maisie had broken their social media silence. Brock had issued a public apology to Maisie, and she’d been posting things like relationships are hard work, and true love wins over adversity.

Brock’s apology was vague, not confirming he’d cheated with me, but not denying it either. It was ridiculous, but I knew he was trying to stay within the terms of his contract. He wanted to get paid. We were paid a portion at signing, and more at the conclusion of filming. The rest of our earnings were being held in the form of a bonus that we wouldn’t get until after the last episode. It was how the producers ensured our good behavior while the show aired.

I hadn’t said anything about Brock on social media. It wasn’t about the money. At this point, I’d have been happy to give up my earnings from the show to get my reputation back. But I didn’t think it would help. It would just give the public more content to gossip over. And if I broke my contract with this studio, I ran the risk of being blacklisted all over Hollywood. My career might be able to survive some bad press. That was all on the surface. But it wouldn’t survive a blacklisting.

I took a sip of my club soda, the bite of carbonation tickling my tongue. Maybe I should have ordered something stronger. I kept hoping that if I laid low for a while, people would tire of the story and move on. I just had to get through the summer, and the show would be over.

Being in Bootleg made that easier. I wasn’t exactly hiding, but I wasn’t making it known I was here, either. And the town seemed to realize I needed the safety of semi-secrecy. I always ran the risk of nosy tourists recognizing me and taking my picture, and I’d taken to wearing a hat and sunglasses when I went out. But I felt protected here.

The door opened, letting in a rush of fresh air. I glanced over, but it was a young couple I didn’t know—not Scarlett. I smiled down at my drink, thinking of her bonfire last week. I’d been so apprehensive about going out, but all that anxiety had melted away with those blow job shots. Jameson and Scarlett had turned the whole thing into a joke, and it was clear they—and Bootleg—were on my side.

I’d had a great time with Scarlett and Cassidy that night. Jameson, too, although he’d been quiet. But I liked his reserved nature—always had. I felt comfortable around him in a way I didn’t with many other people.

When he’d taken me back to my cabin, late that night, I’d caught something in his eyes. I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it, but he’d looked sad.

Since then, I’d been spending time with my dad, helping him out around the house. Thankfully, he was starting to get better. According to Doc Trevor, he’d be off oxygen soon.

My mom had called yesterday and at first, she’d pushed for me to come stay with her in Jacksonville. I knew she was worried about me, but I’d assured her I was fine here in Bootleg. It had been a relief to hear she and Stan weren’t watching the show. She was livid over how I was being portrayed, and refused to watch.

I sighed and took another sip. I felt stupid for having agreed to the show in the first place. At the time, Kelvin’s insistence that it was a great opportunity had seemed to make sense. But even if the show hadn’t created this stupid scandal, I didn’t see how it would have led to any real acting gigs. How many reality TV stars wound up with long-term careers? There were probably a few. The rest either did more reality TV shows in an attempt to stay in the limelight, or faded into obscurity.

The truth was, I’d gone along with it because I’d wanted it to be a good opportunity. Not because I’d believed it was. Deep down, I’d known. But I’d been so worried that with my modeling jobs becoming fewer and further between, and no acting gigs materializing, I’d wind up out of work. Then what would I do?

It was something I was still pondering, and the questions were bigger than I really wanted to admit. Why had I wanted this so badly? I’d wanted to be famous for as long as I could remember, but why? What good was fame? Being on the brink of fame as a model for so long had been fun at times. There had been a thrill to seeing my face on advertisements, and even on a few magazine covers.

But did that momentary thrill outweigh the long hours, travel, and constant scrutiny and criticism? I hadn’t felt like I was in charge of my own body since I was seventeen. I had to be careful about what I ate. Couldn’t gain weight. Couldn’t change my hair. My life was dictated by the brands and designers who hired me. I was hardly a person to them—just a face and body they could use to sell their products. Replaceable. Disposable.

But I’d never done anything else. What else was I qualified for? I knew how to walk a runway. How to pose. How to make myself into what the client wanted me to be. Those kinds of skills didn’t exactly translate into other industries.

My phone binged with a text, so I pulled it out to check, thinking it must be Scarlett. But it was Kelvin.

Kelvin: Sending a contract. Need signature ASAP.

Me: What contract?

Kelvin: New show.

He meant the so-called reverse harem dating show. He’d been acting as if agreeing to the show was a foregone conclusion, even though I’d told him no every time he brought it up. He wasn’t listening to me.

But did he ever? He always said he cared about my career, but was that true? It had seemed like it, when things had been going well. When he’d come to me with offers from high-end designers, and we’d celebrated with champagne. When I’d made the cover of Vogue a few years ago, and it had seemed like there was nowhere to go but up. I’d felt like I never would have made it that far without him.

But had he ever cared about my integrity? He certainly didn’t now. With the prestigious jobs drying up like spilled water in the desert, he seemed to have no qualms about selling me to the highest bidder, no matter what they were asking me to do.

Deep down, I knew the truth. He’d always seen me as a commodity. When the buyers had been well-respected designers and famous photographers, it hadn’t felt like anything was wrong. I’d wanted those jobs. But now Kelvin was willing to auction me off to anyone who’d pay for me. He saw no issue with putting me on yet another trashy reality show—and a dating show at that. I’d felt uncomfortable with keeping our engagement secret before Roughing It, but this would require straight up lies. I’d have to pose as single and pretend to want this six-men-to-one-woman scenario.

The strange thing was, looking at his text on my phone, I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t angry, or even hurt. I was just done. I’d been mistaking dependence for love and affection, and I felt like the world’s biggest idiot for making such a colossal mistake.

The words went through my mind. Kelvin, it’s over. I felt nothing. No rush of panic. No sense of regret or heartbreak. I didn’t know what it would mean for my career, and that did send a little jolt of worry through me. But imagining my life without him in it, I felt lighter. In that moment, I knew exactly what I had to do, no matter what it would cost me professionally.

I tapped his number, hit call, and walked outside.

“Did you get the contract?” he asked. No hello, or I miss you, Leah. Just straight to business.

“I haven’t checked, but I’m not going to sign it,” I said. “I’m not doing the show. And we need to talk.”

“I don’t understand why you’re making this difficult.”

“Can we move on from the show?” I asked. “I have bigger things to talk to you about.”

“Like what?”

“Like us.” I paused, glancing at the ring on my finger. The ring that had been nothing but an afterthought. “Kelvin, I’ve been thinking a lot about the future—about what I want and what’s best for me. And I don’t think we should get married.”

“That’s what you’re so worried about?” he asked. “Babe, that’s fine.”

“What?”

“I figured you needed the whole marriage thing, but if you don’t, that’s great. Marriage is bullshit anyway. This is good. We’ll keep things simple.”

“No, I don’t mean we should stay together and just never get married,” I said. “I don’t think we should be together at all.”

He went silent for a few seconds. “Leah, you need to think very carefully about what you’re saying right now.”

Scarlett, Cassidy, and June approached, so I held up a finger to say I’d be right there and moved farther away from the door. They smiled at me, nodding that they understood, and went inside.

“I have thought about it,” I said.

“Why?” he asked, his voice clipped.

I hesitated, taking a deep breath, the fresh country air filling my lungs. “Because I don’t think we’re in love. Maybe you’re attracted to me, but that’s not the same thing. And neither is feeling like I belong to you because you’ve been managing my career for so long. That’s not love.”

“Why do you think I work so hard for you?” he asked.

“Is it because you love me? You have a lot of clients, and you work hard for them, too. That’s your business.”

“Leah, you’re just going through a tough spot. I know all the publicity you’re getting is hard on you. But this is a good experience. It’ll toughen you up. What’s going on right now is temporary. You can’t make irrevocable decisions during a time like this.”

“This isn’t about the publicity or the gossip,” I said. “This is about our relationship. I’m not coming back to L.A. to be with you, and I’m definitely not marrying you.”

“You’re just going to throw away your career?”

“Oh my god, are you listening?” I asked. “I’m not talking about my career, I’m talking about us.”

“Those aren’t separate things, Leah. I’m not about to continue representing a woman who leaves me. Especially if she leaves me to be a fucking backwoods hick.”

I knew he’d do this, but it still stung that he’d stoop to holding my career hostage. I decided to ignore the ‘backwoods hick’ remark. He wasn’t going to get me riled up over that. “Then I guess I’m leaving your agency.”

“Leah, this is a huge mistake,” he said. “If you think you won’t regret this, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

He was still talking about my damn career. Not once had he said anything about us. Every word out of his mouth made me more certain that I was doing the right thing.

“It’s not a mistake,” I said. “It’s over, Kelvin.”

“You’re going to regret this,” he said and hung up.

I lowered my phone and took in a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if his last comment had been a threat, or just an expression of his anger and frustration. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t in love with him and there was no way on earth I could marry him. It had been over for a long time; I just hadn’t admitted it until now.

But now I was free. And it felt pretty damn good.

I kicked a little pebble into the parking lot, happy I’d worn my cute cowboy boots, and went back inside.

Scarlett, Cassidy, and June had a table near the bar. I smiled, a very silly feeling of euphoria pouring over me.

“Hey, Leah Mae,” Scarlett said.

I loved how everyone here still called me by my full name, not just Leah. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” Scarlett asked, then took a drink of her beer.

I looked down at the ring on my finger. Pulled it off. “I just broke up with Kelvin.”

Scarlett coughed, spitting beer all over the floor. Cassidy patted her on the back while June watched, one eyebrow raised.

“Is Scarlett choking?” June asked.

Cassidy laughed. “No, I think Leah Mae just surprised her a bit.”

Scarlett put a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. “Did you just say you broke up with your fiancé?”

I put the ring on the table. “I did.”

“Well, holy shit,” Scarlett said. She called toward the bar over her shoulder. “Nicolette, we need some whiskey over here. We’ve got somethin’ to celebrate.”

“I’m confused,” June said. “Don’t we normally lament the end of a relationship and soothe the pain of the breakup with a lot of sympathy and sugary baked goods?”

“We do when the breakup is a bad thing,” Scarlett said.

“Okay, slow down, Miss Scarlett,” Cassidy said. She turned to me. “Are we celebrating this, or do you need the sympathy and cake?”

“I won’t say no to cake,” I said. “But I’m celebrating.”

“See?” Scarlett said, a triumphant smile on her face.

Nicolette came to our table with a tray of whiskey shots. Her dark hair was in a ponytail and she had a t-shirt that said I’ve got a good heart… but this mouth. She gave me a friendly smile as she slid the shot glasses onto our table.

I picked up the whiskey. “Ladies, I might have just ruined my career. But I was in that relationship for all the wrong reasons. And now that it’s over, I’m not sad. In fact, I feel great.”

“That’s a sign,” Scarlett said. “I’m proud of you, Leah Mae. You did the right thing.”

“Agreed,” Cassidy said.

June picked up her shot. “I have to concur.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling the prick of tears in my eyes. Not from sadness. From gratitude. The world I’d been living in for the past twelve years was so fake. Bootleg was real. These women were real. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d been missing that.

“To new beginnings. And being open to the right man.” Scarlett winked at me.

My cheeks warmed. I had a feeling I knew what she meant by that, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I tilted my head back, swallowing the whiskey. It was strong, burning my throat as it went down.

“New beginnings,” I said, putting down my glass. All I could do was smile. I’d never felt so free.