The Hone-Don't List the sweetest new romcom from the bestselling author of The Unhoneymooners - Christina Lauren Page 0,2

of Melly and Rusty being adorable or adorably exasperated with each other. Fan favorites are the GIFs of Rusty being Rusty: dropping a hammer on his foot, clumsily spilling a bottle of Coke onto one of Melly’s famous honey-do lists, messing up his intro again and again to the great amusement of the entire crew. People love Melly for being polished and patient. They love Rusty for being goofy and approachable. And they love them as a couple for being the two perfect halves of a whole.

You wouldn’t know from scrolling through their idyllic Instagram feed that Melly and Rusty aren’t quite as sweet on each other anymore. Looking back, I’m not really sure when they decided their marriage mattered less than their brand. It chipped away slowly. A bit of sarcasm here. An argument there. Slowly their worst sides seemed to take over: Melly is a neurotic perfectionist who never sleeps. Rusty is impulsive and easily distracted by whatever—or whoever—is around him. Luckily, only their inner circle sees this downward tilt because the Tripps still manage to put on an impressively convincing show for the public.

Like now. Rusty stands at her side, nodding and clapping at the more sentimental points in her toast. It’s an after-party, so the blazer is gone and he’s wearing one of his custom Broncos jerseys. He can let loose! He’s a fun dad and relatable!

He’s forty-five now, and while viewers still swoon over the strong jaw and quarterback build, they love even more the way he looks at his wife. Rusty looks at Melly like they’re celebrating their first anniversary this year, not their twenty-sixth. It’s the way she rolls her eyes at his jokes but then blushes, totally endearing. When they’re like this, it’s easy to see why their on-screen chemistry made them instant favorites on New Spaces. They were relatively unknown when the show started, but they—and their infectious love—immediately eclipsed the popularity of their costars, including the show’s former-Miss-America host, Stephanie, and the expert, Dan—a younger, hipper home remodeling icon who’d had his own show for years.

The Tripps’ outwardly enviable marriage is why Ford Motor Company used Melly and Rusty in a truck commercial. It’s why they have merchandise lines at Target and Walmart, emblazoned with their bright, blissful smiles; why their two home design books have both been longtime bestsellers, and why their soon-to-be-published book on marriage is already at the top of the sales charts and hasn’t even been released yet.

And, of course, Melly is an enormous stress case over the upcoming announcement of their new solo show, Home Sweet Home. We’re all overwhelmed, trying to strike while the iron’s hot, but what else can we do but work our hardest?

“Some people might say what we do is just decorating.” Melly is apparently not finished addressing the crowd, because she pulls attention back to where she stands at the front of the room. The table behind her is filled with empty champagne bottles and the remnants of a stunning six-tier petal-pink cake.

“They say it’s just home remodel,” she continues. “Just design.” Her high, sugary voice works well for TV because it matches her bubbly personality, white-blond hair, and animated expressions. But off set—and especially when she’s displeased and on a tear—that voice becomes cartoonish and piercingly loud. “But it’s always been our motto that the home reflects the person. Build the home you want, be flexible, and life will be a Tripp! Thank you for helping us share our philosophy! We love you all. Here’s to the next chapter!”

A chorus of cheers echoes through the group. Everyone drains their glasses and disperses to offer congratulations. Now the toast is over—never mind that the cast of New Spaces is composed of four independently famous individuals, and Melly has just monopolized the moment and ended with her own personal slogan, making it clear that no one else is going to speak in acknowledgment of what they’ve all accomplished together.

I glance over to gauge the reaction of Stephanie Flores, the aforementioned former Miss America, social media darling, and host of New Spaces. She seems to be keeping her eyes from rolling with great effort. Renovation god Dan Eiler is huddled with a producer, speaking in hushed, angry tones and jutting his chin toward the front of the room, where Melly just stood. Publicly, the show is ending so that everyone can pursue other new adventures—like the Tripps starting Home Sweet Home—but honestly I think it’s ending because no one can stand in