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“What does that mean?”

“You’re giving the final bouquet to someone you care about, aren’t you? That should make you truly happy inside and out. Finding real love on a reality show that undermines true love is actually quite rare.”

It took a beat for the words to sink in. And when they did, Alexis should’ve found them scarier. The thought of giving that final bouquet to someone should’ve made her feel like she was teetering at the edge of a diving board with no water beneath.It wasn’t just a bouquet of lavender; it was a future. Not once since she’d gotten the call about coming back to the show had she thought about the possibility of a future with one of the contestants. Which was hilarious. She nearly laughed out loud. She nearly told Vivian that she hadn’t considered it until now, but the answer was right there, in her face, glaring at her. Birdie was her future. Birdie was getting the bouquet tonight because, yes, Alexis cared about her. A lot. A hell of a lot.

But she didn’t get the chance to tell Vivian because Vivian had already pivoted away, ending the conversation. And then a girl with a head full of ringlet curls ran at her. She brushed blush onto Alexis’s cheeks and disappeared just as quickly. The lights dimmed right after. And then Elise called out from behind the shadows of the cameras. “We’re rolling in five… four…”

Alexis swallowed down the golf ball-sized lump in her throat. It felt like it ricocheted all the way to her stomach. Then the solarium doors swung open, and Bianca walked in first.

Her dress was emerald satin with a slit high enough to cause heart palpitations. Her golden legs gleamed in the dim light, all shiny and silky, and her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulder. Louise came in next. She was wrapped in a one-shoulder dress the color of pink champagne, and her black-as-the-night hair was twisted in a bun. A pearl necklace lay flat on her chest, almost the same color as her skin, and her heels were silver straps so thin she looked like she was floating in the air.

And finally, Birdie. Alexis actually forgot how to breathe for half a second. Birdie looked gorgeous. Her dress was midnight blue, strapless with a bodice that looked like it had been sculpted just for her before spilling out into a flowing skirt that whispered against the floor. Her bangs were perfect. Her makeup was subtle but gorgeous. Alexis had to force her eyes to the other contestants even when they didn’t want to go.

The three of them fanned out, each taking their place in front of Alexis.

Vivian, who was on the other side of the room a moment ago, was now standing beside the pedestal. “This is the final ceremony.” She half-turned toward Alexis. “Alexis, this is the moment where you will offer a lavender bouquet to the woman with whom you feel the deepest connection, the woman you can see building a future with beyond this show.” She paused, swept her gaze over the contestants, and then added, “Love is never guaranteed, but tonight, our bachelorette will have the chance to choose the person she believes could turn this experience into a love that is real.”

Alexis’s eyes landed on Birdie. If she could rewind everything, if she could go back to that night in Portland, would she do it all again?

No, she wouldn’t.

At least not in the way one might think.

Yes, Alexis would invite Birdie back to that hotel room, but she wouldn’t leave right after. She would stay. She would kiss Birdie harder, longer, maybe even spend the night. She would order room service the next morning and make love to her until check-out time. Then she would take Birdie’s number and use it. She would use that number the next day, and the day after that. She would text her in the morning and again at night. She would send her photos of her plants and ask for book recommendations. And she would ask Birdie on a real date, somewhere romantic, somewhere where the stars shone just as bright, somewhere she could tell her how she really felt without any cameras zooming in.

“To the two of you who do not receive a rose,” Vivian went on. Alexis was barely listening now. Her head felt hot. Was that even a thing? To have a hot head. Was that because all the bloodwas rushing to her brain, or because her mind was working overtime? “Your time here will come to an end.”

An end, Alexis thought.

But hadn’t their time come to an end two days ago when this entire thing had blown up? Hadn’t this officially ended when Bianca and Louise were offered an all-expenses-paid trip to Nice as consolation because Alexis couldn’t keep her face out from between Birdie’s legs? The smiles on their faces weren’t hopeful, or expectant, or even excited. They were just polite. Practiced. Maybe even forced. They were the type of smiles people gave when they’d already been told how the story was going to end.

Suddenly, everything felt so wrong. They shouldn’t have continued with the show. Production should have let it end when the scandal broke and embraced it like they had done last season, instead of pretending it didn’t exist. Alexis wasn’t much of an actress. She didn’t feel like performing tonight, and she definitely didn’t deserve to come out of this looking like the redeemed heroine. She sure as hell didn’t deserve the thousands of viewers nodding at their screens, thinking,Good for her. She tried. She grew. She’s a much better person than last season.

Because clearly she wasn’t.

And honestly, she was shockingly okay with that.

Vivian turned to her. She gestured toward the lavender bouquet and said, “Alexis, do you have something to say before you pick up the final bouquet?” There was something in Vivian’s gaze that pricked her arms, and Alexis wondered if the host had read her mind. Her face was a warning. Her eyes were basically saying, I know what you’re thinking, but don’t do anything stupid.

But then again, Alexis was queen of stupid decisions.

“I do,” she said, her voice a little trembly, her hand a little shaky. She picked up the bouquet, ran her thumb over the stem, and faced the contestants. The show was live. The viewers werewatching, possibly with bated breath. There were team Birdies, team Biancas, and team Louises scattered all across living rooms in America. Most of them probably had a glass of wine raised at the TV like talismans. Some might even be thinking of entering next season, considering how well everything seemed to be going. But none of them knew the mess behind the carefully curated smiles, or the quiet panic in Alexis’s eyes.

Panic that eased as a sudden, unexpected calmness suddenly spread over Alexis like warm butter on toast. She knew what she had to do. She could feel it in her bones, all the way to the marrow. It was absolutely necessary for her to be honest.

“This is all a lie,” she said loudly and confidently. “And I am the biggest liar of all.”

Gasps rippled behind the cameras. Elise was already shrieking for a cut, waving her clipboard like she could swat Alexis off the screen. But then Vivian lifted one manicured hand and said in a voice as cool as an ice cube in a gin and tonic, “Don’t stop. Let it roll. I think we need to hear what she has to say.”

Alexis almost laughed at that. Not at the shock and panic on Elise’s face, because Alexis almost felt sorry for her. She almost laughed because now, after all this time, Vivian had decided to be on her side.

She tightened her grip on the bouquet and forced herself to keep talking. “I’ve deceived you,” she said, eyes flicking to Louise, then Bianca, then the cameras. She hadn’t just deceived the contestants; she’d also deceived the viewers and everyone else she had sent home. “I knew Birdie before the show started. We spent the night together after I met her at a club. And then I did what I always do: I didn’t call back. I didn’t make any effort to see her again. I used her for a one-night stand. Which was why when I saw her walk down that aisle at introductions, I was so determined to send her home.”

“But you didn’t,” Vivian said, stepping up to her host duties.

“You’re right. I didn’t,” Alexis said, catching Birdie’s lovely eyes. “I couldn’t. Because something changed. We were forced to spend time together, and before I realized what was happening, we were forming a—”

“Connection,” Vivian interrupted.