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Here’s the moment where I’m supposed to appear devastated. I manage a double-blink, which I feel is surely adequate for drama purposes.

Jordy waits, and I realize a beat too late I’m expected to respond, here. I shrug. “Oh these things… happen,” I produce.

“It really has been such a wonderful experience exploring what might have been with you.”

Another pause. I’m not quite sure how to respond to that, so, in a panic, I look toward the sky and blink a few more times, to appear as though I’m holding in emotions too overwhelming to keep my neck straight for.

“We’ll always have Canada,” he says, and I get the distinct feeling he was told to say that.

“And we’ll always have… Chalonne,” I try.

Jordy laughs. “Yes. Yes, we will. I hope we’ll stay in touch this time, though. I look forward to watching you achieve things beyond your wildest dreams.”

“And I have no doubt I’ll see you around.” I smile sweetly. “It’s quite hard to miss you.”

“Cut,” Gwendolyn calls, and she heads over to Isaac and Grayson to discuss something.

“I really am sorry, Skye,” Jordy says.

I wave a hand. “Honestly, it’s perfectly fine. But can I please know who you’re picking?”

“You’ll find out soon,” he says. I’m disappointed, but not surprised. “Anyway. I’ll see you next week?”

“Sure. Have a good week.”

“You know? I think I will.”

I replay his words mentally, trying to glean a clue from them as he leaves with one camera following him. Only seconds later, I’m wrenched from my thoughts as Grayson approaches with a camera.

“Reaction shot, Skye,” Gwendolyn calls, hurrying after him. “Look sadder.”

I oblige as best as I can. Gwendolyn seems skeptical, but honestly, I’m out of energy for this. I’m ready for it to all be over. I’m ready to see what comes next.

“How are you feeling, Skye?” Grayson asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. This feels a little dramatic to me, but I suppose I don’t run a television show for a reason.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t cry,” I say, because I’m not sure I can say I’m sad with a straight face. “And I didn’t cry.”

Grayson squeezes. “You handled it with the dignity and grace the country has come to love about you. I’m so sorry. All the best.”

And in a flurry, it’s over. Time for me to be spirited to my hotel, and Jordy to his. Will he be alone? With Perrie? Or have they trapped a victorious Maya in that hotel with him for a whole week, despite her rejection speech?

I hope against hope that they haven’t. That, successful ornot, she’s waiting for me in the hotel room when I get back. That I can run up and kiss her without checking to see who’s around. No more secrets, no more games, no more separation.

At last.

THIRTY-ONEMaya

They take me straight from the Loser Hotel all the way back to the lake by the manor. It seems like a hell of a waste of time to me, all this back and forth, but Isaac just shrugs and points out that the makeup artist needed to be at the Loser Hotel, which Iguessmakes sense.

It’s as I feared. These heels are bad enough on solid ground, let alone on the grass. I hesitate as I get out of the car, because there are multiple cameras on me.

“It’s okay,” Isaac says softly, reading my mind. “Just take it slow.”

“If I trip, are you going to put it in all the episode promos?” I ask, only half joking.

“No. And I can actually promise you that, for once. The finale is all about romance. If anything goes wrong, we’ll just edit it out.”

Something in his words sparks something at the back of my mind. Something uneasy.