For the Right Reasons (19 page)

Like obedient schoolboys, we stood on our marks quietly. I knew that
Emily was back in the deliberation room, deciding what order she should call out the names. While Emily and Chris were back there discussing who was going home, the producers interspersed footage of the three of us standing silently on our marks, waiting for her to arrive and pronounce our fate. The producers were right. This was a serious moment, and we needed to act like it. I hated to think about Arie or Jef being sent home. This fun adventure would all come to an end for one of them in a few moments. Mostly, though, I was excited to see Emily.

Finally, a serious-looking Chris Harrison approached and set the stage for what was about to happen.

“It’s been another great week and another great destination. But I know being on this beautiful island is the furthest thing on your mind,” he said. “This is the last rose ceremony. The next step is a proposal to Emily.”

When he said the word
proposal
, I felt a surge of joy. I’d already rehearsed what I’d say to her when I got down on one knee.

“After all of this, however, there are only two roses tonight,” he continued. “One of you is going home.”

I heard a swishing noise coming from my right. The dress Emily wore that night was stunning—it looked like a tank top above the waist, but the bottom looked as though it were made of metal. It was shimmery and made a rhythmic sound when she walked. I remember hearing her before actually seeing her.

My future wife
.

She stood before us and gave her obligatory “this is a hard choice” speech. “I can’t believe we’re at this point, and I have my three guys here,” she began. “I had to make a decision, and I want each of you to know that I care so much about each of you.” She paused. Was she about to cry? Emily had done such an amazing job navigating this complicated dating scenario. I admired the way she was letting Arie or Jef down so easily. “And I want you to know that . . . I’m sorry.”

She picked up the first of two roses and held it. Frequently, the most obvious person is called first. If there’s a favorite, the producers get him out of the way so they don’t ruin the suspense. I’d gotten the rose first during many of
the rose ceremonies—and in others, my name was never called because I’d gotten a date rose. I figured I’d probably get called first that night.

“Jef,” she said. I exchanged a sympathetic glance with Arie as I watched Jef walk up to her and the rose.

Oh, man
, I thought.
Arie’s going home
.

After a seemingly long pause, Emily picked up the final rose and said two syllables that absolutely shattered the dreams of my future life and family.

“Arie.”

I froze.

Did I hear her correctly? What just happened?

I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t mad. I was shocked. I didn’t know what was going on as I watched Arie go up and receive his rose.

I gave Jef and Arie a hug. “I love you, man,” Jef said to me as I pulled away to talk to Emily.

“May I walk you out?” she asked.

We sat on a bench away from everyone. A dog barked in the distance.

“What are you feeling?”

“I feel stupid,” I said. There were a lot of words that I could’ve used, but
stupid
was the one that came out. How could I have been so utterly and completely wrong? Had I misread her cues? Her many cues?

“Why?”

“Because I knew with certainty that I was ready to spend forever with you. I didn’t see this coming, obviously. I think you should know it’s going to hurt me.”

I got up to leave, but there was no vehicle for me to get into.

“Come on, man,” said Scott. “We just need to get you guys talking a bit more.”

Reluctantly, I sat back down on the bench.

“I don’t feel like I deserve you,” she said. Suddenly, all the moments she said the erroneous word
perfect
to describe me came flooding back. Did she really believe I had my act so together that I was unobtainable?

“Going into this final week,” she said, “I thought you were the one.”

My mind was reeling. If she thought I was the one going into this week,
what had happened to change her mind? Our date had gone so well—even with our secret overnight date that she’d told me was a privilege only I had shared. It just didn’t add up. Was she upset that I didn’t have a job I loved back home and might not be as wealthy as the other guys? That was the last thing we talked about before the rose ceremony. Did that factor in to it at all?

Of course, I had no answers.

“Well, so did I,” I said, barely able to get the words out. “I thought I was the one. I thought you were the one.”

“I wanted it to be you so bad,” she said, no longer holding back her tears. “I’ve loved every minute.”

“I care about you ultimately,” I said, wanting desperately to get out of this situation. “If this is the best for you, you have to do what’s best for you.” Though I didn’t plan on being in this situation, I didn’t want to be the guy who gets angry and leaves on bad terms. I climbed into the Suburban, which was full of sound technicians, producers, and a host of other people who’d come along with me in this journey. I wasn’t really supposed to talk to the behind-the-scenes guys, but I couldn’t help but notice it was as quiet as a morgue.

I stared out the window into nowhere, unable to speak. I only turned around when I heard loud sniffling. The camera ops and sound techs were not supposed to be involved in the show in any way except behind the scenes, of course. One really sweet sound tech named Kittye was in the backseat with me. Even though we weren’t supposed to interact, I’d gotten to know everyone by name. We’d spent so much time together over the past few weeks. About a foot of space separated Kittye and me as the cameras rolled. Obviously, she couldn’t be in the shot, so she had pushed herself as far away from me as possible in the back of a full Suburban. When I looked over at her, I noticed her back was turned away from me. She was staring out the window too—crying.

“Are you okay?” I instinctively asked, breaking the rules.

“I’m just”—she sniffed—“sad that you’ve gotten your heart broken.”

In that moment, seeing her kindness, I couldn’t help but smile. I whispered, “Thank you, Kittye.”

I looked up and saw that the producer, Jonah, and my handler, Brenner, were both bawling. Jonah, who is prone to being a tad dramatic, had his head in his hands sobbing. You would’ve thought our Suburban was following a hearse. Honestly it did, just a little, feel like a death. In my mind, I’d mapped out my entire future with Emily and her daughter.
Our
daughter. Suddenly, having that ripped away was the worst thing I’d ever felt.

Amid such despair, the fact that almost everyone in the vehicle was grieving with me was very touching. Even though I hadn’t found true love, I’d made friendships that would last a lifetime.

When it became apparent that the producers were going to keep us driving around in circles until I said something, I mustered up the strength to speak. Even though the feelings I had were real, they still had a television show to make.

“Can you tell me what you’re thinking?” the producer asked me one more time.

“I had a beautiful picture of what my life was going to look like. And now it’s gone,” I said. “It feels like it was stolen from me.”

nine

NEWFOUND NOTORIETY

“Hey, buddy,” Brenner said when I finally got to the hotel after my Suburban ride of shame. I had already gotten out my suitcases and started shoving my clothes into them. “We really need you to do us a favor.”

“What?” I asked, barely able to get out the word. I’d stuffed all my socks into the side of my suitcase, and the zipper wouldn’t close.

“We need you to stay a little bit longer,” he said.

“All I want to do is go home,” I said with as much control over my voice as possible, but it may have sounded more like a plea.

I looked up and Brenner was still standing there. “Just a little longer,” he said gently.

“What does ‘just a little’ mean, specifically?” I asked.
An extra day wouldn’t kill me
, I thought as I took a deep breath.

“Just stay another five or six days?” he said.

“Five or six?” I said, unable to believe my ears. “That’s almost a week.”

“Listen, it’s simple. If you’re seen in Dallas before Jef and Arie are home,” he said, “it would jeopardize the whole show.”

I paused, gripping my socks so hard my knuckles were white. I loved Brenner—and the other producers—and wanted to treat them well even in this horrible circumstance. The show had invested millions of dollars into this story, and I didn’t want to accidentally give away the ending.

A story.

I felt a little queasy that all the heartache I felt was just a part of a story—and I wasn’t even a main character. If this had been a real fairy tale, I would’ve fought a few dragons and ended up with the girl in the end. But Prince Charming never got sent home in a Chevy Suburban.

“Sorry, man. I need to get back to normal life,” I said.

“Of course,” he said. “I understand.” I took one look at the guy and realized he hated asking as much as I hated agreeing. Well, almost. “You can leave, but it would help us out a lot if you could just stay.”

“If only Emily had wanted me to stick around as much as you do,” I said grimly. I didn’t want to ruin the show for them. I took my socks out of the side pocket and shoved them back into the drawer. “All right.” I decided to take one for the team. “Can I at least borrow your phone?”

Brenner breathed a sigh of relief, reached into his pocket, and handed me his cell phone. “Thanks, buddy,” he said. “It means a lot, but who are you calling?”

“Home.”

“You do realize it’s three o’clock in the morning Dallas time?”

“My parents have to know what’s going on,” I said, taking his cell and disappearing into my room. For the first time in weeks, I knew for sure that no one was listening to me. No one would be monitoring my calls to determine what might make for good television.

“Yeah,” my dad answered the phone, his voice thick with sleep.

“Dad?”

“Son, what’s going on?” he asked, and I noticed a trace of concern in his sleepy voice.

“I’m going home,” I said. “And I’ve had my heart broken.” Suddenly, it was just me, my mom, and my dad—separated by more than two thousand miles. It took them a few seconds to process what I was saying.

“Oh, Sean . . . I know you’ve never experienced this before,” my mom said gently. “But you’re gonna get through it.”

“We just want to get you home and love on you,” said my dad. “Come on back.”

“I can’t even do that,” I said, explaining the situation as my dad listened attentively.

“Okay, then just get through the day. We’re going to be waiting for you when you get home.”

“Yeah, we’re going to have the family over when you get home, just like every Saturday,” Mom added. “Shay and Andrew will come over, and they’ll bring the kids.”

I could tell Mom was trying to remind me of real life, to tell me life could get back to normal, to emphasize that everything could be the same.

“The last time I was at your house, Emily was there,” I said. The yard, the house, my life would feel dingier in her absence.

“Yeah, I know. I know,” she said. To her credit, Mom didn’t try to reason with me. Instead, she simply commiserated. “It’ll be okay.”

I hung on to that promise as I spent the next several days in what could’ve been a fun, relaxing resort. Taking one for the team, in the
Bachelorette
world, was not so bad. They got me a two-story, picturesque townhouse on the ocean, which I barely even noticed. In my head, I relived every moment between Emily and me a million times.
Should I have said this? Should I not have said this? Should I have done this differently?

“You’ve got a week on the ocean,” Brenner said. “Wanna get your scuba license?”

I had to hand it to Brenner. He knew I wanted to become scuba certified, and he was by my side the whole time encouraging me to appreciate the moment. But I never took him up on any of his suggestions. I was devastated, because I had been certain Emily would be my wife.

One day, we went down the street to eat some sushi, and my twisted sense of humor got the best of me. “Brenner, do you know what would make me feel better?”

“What, buddy?” he asked. This was the first time I even indicated a possibility of happiness, and he was eager to do whatever would help.

“If you ate that,” I said as I pointed to the golf ball–size glob of wasabi next to my sushi.

“That?” He looked at the mound of wasabi, also known as Japanese horseradish. “The whole thing?”

I nodded.

To my surprise, Brenner popped the whole ball in his mouth. His eyes started watering, and he began coughing. If we’d been in a cartoon, smoke would’ve come out of his ears. I started laughing, and—once he stopped choking—Brenner started laughing too. It was the first moment my thoughts weren’t consumed by Emily since I’d been sent packing.

“Thanks, man,” I said when I finally regained my composure. “You’re a real friend.”

Since this was our favorite sushi place, we went there the following night. “Wanna make me happy again?” I asked, probably taking advantage of Brenner’s good nature and eagerness to cheer me up. “It would really make me laugh if you drank the water out of that vase,” I said, pointing to the flower vase that was sitting on our table.

Without a thought, he picked it up and took a swig. I was so surprised that he’d done it, I started laughing and couldn’t stop. That’s the amazing kind of guy Brenner is—he was a great friend during a tough and terrible time.