Caught in the Act

Act Naturally

Max supposed that ultimately it was good that she had cried in front of everyone again. It all seemed more convincing. That she was sad about being misled by Lucas. Which was, without a doubt, something she was pretending to be. She was such a committed actress that she immediately ran to the bathroom, locked herself in, and allowed a few more definitely-fake tears to spill out of her.

It kept replaying in her head.

The only reason I even came on Love Island was for Hope.

She couldn't justify how much it had hurt her to hear those words. But they pressed the cry button inside her and unlocked a lifetime of rejection.

Everything else has been a distraction.

Moments flashed through her head in rapid succession, newly decorated with a sharp blade of pain. The way he jumped fully clothed into the pool to greet her. The unexpected electricity of their first kiss. The look on his face when he'd said it.

Succulent.

All a distraction.

All he did was say what she already knew. He was not really hers. He was never intended to be hers. And yet the pain of those words jabbed at her brain like the thorns of a rose she should have been happy to accept.

So they'd had a moment during the challenge. Why would it change anything? She should have known better. She'd entered this situation with her eyes wide open, stipulations in bolded print. In fact, she'd written them herself.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Max, are you okay?" It was Noah. Shit. A tangle of feelings snagged painfully through her mind. She wasn't ready for that conversation. Not yet. She was too twisted up in this Lucas confusion.

"I'm okay!" she said, doing her best to sound casual. "I'm just going to take a shower."

"Okay," he said, still sounding concerned. "I'll be around if you want to talk."

"For sure!" She sounded like an idiot but it was the best she could do at the moment.

Once she heard his footsteps retreat, she slipped into the shower, hoping to wash away whatever gloom was clouding her mind and start fresh. She should be ecstatic that they'd finally succeeded in their plan. Instead she was ruining it with her overthinking. Was she so chronically drawn to unavailable men that she craved Lucas now that Noah wanted her? That must be it. She tried to focus her mind into appreciating this accomplishment. This is what she'd been fighting for. Noah had comforted her last night. That had to mean something.

Or did it? Would he have even looked her way if Hope hadn't run off with Lucas? Was this just another instance of her filling in when Hope wasn't available? She recalled how the other Islanders avoided her eye when Hope called her desperate and the humiliation began to claw up her spine.

No. She yanked the feeling away like she was pulling out a troublesome weed. She wasn't going to play the sad girl part anymore. She'd gotten what she had fought for. She wasn't going to shrink away in shame now. She wasn't going to apologize for it. And as far as Lucas was concerned, she didn't understand what she was feeling about him, but did it matter? It was over. It never was in the first place. She couldn't throw everything away because she was so wrapped up in his handsomeness and his fabricated affection. She shoved down all the confusing, unwelcome feelings in her gut and resolved to seize her moment, goddamnit.

She put on her second sexiest bathing suit, successfully masked her puffy red eyes with makeup, and walked back down to the kitchen. The worst part had been taken care of. The break up was done. Now she just needed to remind herself why she'd done it in the first place.