Page 93 of Insta Bride

“No, but, I’ve seen the same photos as you. Elena said she’d never stay with a lying, cheating asshole. Well, I’d say the jury is out and the results are in. Kye ticks all boxes.”

Public Implosion

Don’t Miss Australian Love Story

Benjamin and Kenzie are odds on favorites to win Australian Love Story.

To be fair, I’ve met both couples. I’ve met their friends. I’ve even spoken to the other couples who were on Lovers Island, and the dedicated camera operator responsible for filming their every thought.

I’ve never met a couple more suited or more in love than Benjamin and Kenzie.

As for Kye and Elena? My sources can’t confirm rumors of a split, but I understand Kye needs his bride by his side to land the biggest deal of his career.

This is Danielle Stone from Wake Up Australia

Elena

Liv wrapped me in one of her long, woollen sweaters for the second part of the interviews. It had aired earlier tonight, but I hadn’t wanted to watch Kye’s interview about us. I certainly didn’t want to watch mine with him sitting next to me.

It had been easier to send him a text that I’d watch it with my friends.

Kye’s interview had been brutal. Emotionally brutal to watch, if you were his wife. Which was me. Hilarious to watch if you were anyone else.

Kye refused to talk about us or our relationship. It was as if he was the master of the one-liners. Entertaining his invisible audience with life on the island that the cameras didn’t show. Instead of the romantic dates and declarations of love, Kye talked about fighting the sandflies and waiting around for hours to deliver lines production wanted us to record.

“What sort of lines?” Danielle had asked and I almost dreaded the response. What if Kye’s reply was also heavily edited? Could I believe anything?

“They had me say the same line about all the women. The question was how should Dawson show Randi how much she means to him. I had to say Dawson should treat Randi to a night long, full body massage before carrying her off to bed and making love to her all night long.”

“Sounds like a perfect date—” Danielle’s mock horror came in full force, “Wait! I remember that line. Wasn’t it—”

“Like I said, editing was a bitch. Looked like I wanted to give Randi the massage and take her to bed. Elena was pissed after it aired and I think Dawson had some choice words to say online.”

“Did Elena believe you?”

“Dunno. I mean, she knows what I used to be like.”

“Tell me about the other women.”

And Kye told her.

I didn’t know whether he was talking past tense or current. But he talked and talked and talked.

Against a backdrop of photos from social media. Most I’d seen, some I hadn’t.

I watched Kye answer questions about the other women on Lovers Island, intermingled with footage from his initial interviews about how he’d be more likely to win the lottery than settle down with one woman. All while I sat with my friends and ignored their worried looks.

Jess grabbed the control, but after she turned off the television, I fought to get it back. I needed to see for myself how my interview had been edited.

“Elena, how is married life?” Danielle’s tone was warm and ingratiating. I remembered the night before we’d recorded the interview. Kye had never been more loving. We’d played Trivial Pursuit and rewarded each other with more than a plastic piece of pie.

Each time I earned a piece, Kye had to do an exercise of my choice. Straddling him while he tried to do sit ups with a hard on could have been my favorite waste of time. For Kye, he didn’t care about watching me sweat, but he wanted me to last five minutes without coming. While he played with ice cubes around my pussy. Hot breath and cold ice were my new favorite aphrodisiac.

By the time we were both on our last piece, we’d amped up the stakes. I had to sing the national anthem while he was going down on me. If I forgot the words or lost the beat, he stopped and started licking his way up from my ankles, again.

I’d won by grounding against him until I couldn’t stop coming while both of us were down to our underwear. Kye hadn’t broken stride, ripping down my pants and joining me in what felt like the merging of our souls.

We’d laughed.

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