Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right

After a sleepless night, the sky was still dark when Joe arrived to take Debra and Juan to the airport.

The reality show they were filming was set on an island, which had been rented out by the production team. It wasn't just one pair of guests participating. Each divorced couple was assigned to their own private apartment.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Debra and Juan were given a secluded villa on the island. Whether it was because of Juan's status or not, the production team had gone all out. While it wasn't as grand as the Nichols family's house, it still had two stories and covered a solid hundred square meters. The other guests were housed in different sections, ensuring they wouldn't bump into Debra or Juan anytime soon.

The show's requirements were simple. Debra and Juan needed to live together in this cozy villa for at least a month. The filming could stretch anywhere from one to two months, and the producers would record everything for the show's content.

They had a script of sorts, dictating that they would appear in the villa separately at first. And, of course, the place was rigged with cameras from every angle, ensuring nothing was missed.

As Debra stepped into the courtyard, she couldn't help but pause for a moment. The garden was filled with blooming flowers and lush greenery, and a vibrant parrot hung from the porch. The fresh scent of grass and flowers filled the air. It was exactly the kind of peaceful, idyllic setting Debra had always dreamed of.

But her moment of reverie was quickly interrupted when she noticed the array of cameras discreetly positioned around the property.

Inside, the house was warm and tastefully decorated, as if the producers had done their homework. This wasn't just about capturing pretty scenes. They were aiming to uncover what mattered most to divorced couples-the feeling of home.

Soon after, Juan walked in. Debra had already unpacked all her belongings, claiming a room on the second floor. Since they were divorced, of course, their rooms were separate.

Juan, silent as ever, went to the adjacent room to unpack his things.

A few moments later, they both emerged from their rooms. They exchanged glances, but neither of them spoke, perhaps feeling the pressure of the cameras.

Finally, Juan broke the silence.

"What do you want for lunch?"

"Can you cook?"

Her response shut him down.

"I'll do it. You can help just prep a few things."

"Sure."

They moved to the kitchen together. But as soon as they arrived, it became painfully clear that Juan had no idea what he was doing.

Watching him struggle, Debra felt a

pang

think Juan would

maregret. She had no idea w in the kitchen.

help

"Actually, why don't you go sit down somewhere and relax?" she suggested with a sigh.

"I can handle it," Juan insisted.

"Alright then. Start by picking these vegetables," Debra replied, giving him a small task. "Pick?" he echoed uncertainly, staring at the vegetables like they were alien objects. Debra waved him off. "If you don't know how, just go wait somewhere cool."

Turning her attention to the fridge, she surveyed the ingredients the show had provided. It was well-stocked for now: eggs, tomatoes, and some fast food.

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Deciding to keep things simple, she pulled out two packets of pasta.

Juan quickly stepped forward. "I can handle that."