Chapter Eighteen
Sienna was confused. The last time she’d felt this disoriented, she had been sitting in the back of a tuk-tuk in Bangladesh with sweat dripping down her neck, trying to decide whether or not to quit her travel blog.
Back then, it had felt like the end of something, like her dream had expired, or at least a version of it she’d been clutching too tightly.
People just didn’t read anymore. At least not long stories about being stranded overnight in a tiny airport in Zanzibar, or that time when she had tried octopus skewers in Osaka and spent twelve hours bonding with a hotel bathroom.
They wanted moments they could scroll past quickly and still feel something.
They wanted to see a hundred different experiences in just a few swipes.
So, Sienna had pivoted. She’d traded her blog for Instagram.
Swapped her essays for snapshots and captions, and somewhere along the way, became something new.
Something shinier. Louder. Easier to digest.
It hadn’t been easy. If anyone were to ask, Sienna would never sugarcoat it. There were days when she had wanted to give up. Months where she’d pretended she knew what she was doing—editing, posting, refreshing, deleting, reposting—all while wondering if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.
But eventually, the panic had dulled. The likes had come in, the brand deals had followed, and she’d stopped cringing every time she heard her voice on a story. She’d even forgotten what that panic felt like… until now.
Sienna looked down at the rose in her hand. The petals were glossy and impossibly red. If she took a photo of it, she wouldn’t even have to bump the saturation.
Across from her, five women stood watching her, their lovely faces tight with nerves.
Sienna could picture each of them fitting into the corners of her life: Holly leaving a steaming cup of chamomile tea on her nightstand without a word; Dani dragging her outside for a sunrise even when Sienna wanted to stay in bed; Nisha strumming a tune on her ukulele to calm her when she fussed over a dip in her Instagram interactions; Brooke cracking a joke at breakfast while Sienna was still half-asleep and groaning and Marie with her two kids completely upending her life.
They were all here for Sienna. They all wanted a piece of her.
Which, honestly, was seriously terrifying. The pressure was unreal. It felt like an elephant sitting on her head. It was a miracle she wasn’t hunched over, nose to the ground.
Even taking a deep breath didn’t help.
Even glancing around the deck, concentrating on the hammered copper bowls holding flickering candles that the production team had recently placed down on the railings, didn’t help.
But then Brooke caught her eye and winked. And just like that, the elephant lifted and floated off into the sunset. Sienna inhaled so deeply that her lungs hurt with all that extra oxygen.
Unfortunately, it was short-lived.
Vivian slipped through the entrance. She wore a black silk dress that clung to her body.
Her hair was sleeked back at the sides. Around her neck was a thick, steel collar-style necklace, which made her look like the extremely hot, dangerously elegant version of Ursula from The Little Mermaid.
Before Sienna knew what was coming, a whole other kind of pressure replaced the elephant.
A pressure that Sienna couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
“Ladies,” Vivian began. Two cameras panned in her direction as she strutted across the deck to her spot beside the carved elephant statue.
Sienna tried to catch her eye but caught herself.
What good would that do? They’d make eye contact, then Vivian would look away first, and Sienna would be left feeling what?
Disappointed that she couldn’t read Vivian’s mind?
Upset that she’d have to do another rose ceremony when the one person she actually wanted didn’t want her?
Sienna might be clumsy; she might knock her knee against coffee tables or drop dumbbells on her toes, but most of the time she preferred to avoid things that hurt.
And Vivian not wanting her hurt a lot.
“Tonight is one of the hardest parts of the experience,” Vivian went on.
“You’ve all opened up to each other and to Sienna in ways that take courage.
And believe me, that doesn’t go unnoticed.
” She paused just long enough for the air to thicken.
Which it did. Immensely. “Unfortunately, not everyone’s story continues tonight,” Vivian said, bowing her head ever so slightly. “Two of you will be going home.”
A collective inhale rippled through the group. All the contestants seemed shocked by this. Not Sienna, though. Elise had informed her this morning that she would be saying goodbye to two ladies. It was a surprise at first. But also not. In just ten days, there’d only be one rose left.
Vivian turned to Sienna. “Do you have anything you’d like to say?”
Sienna felt her chest tighten, and not just tighten, but try to fold in on itself. “Yes,” she said, her eyes suddenly stinging. Vivian had this way of looking straight into her, like she could see every hidden, stupid feeling Sienna didn’t want to have.
And there were plenty. In fact, she was having one right now. She was imagining Elise’s face if Sienna bumped over that pedestal with her hip, sent the roses scattering across the floor, and announced she’d slept with Vivian and would very much like to do it again.
The urge to whip her head away became unbearable. But she didn’t. At least not until Vivian looked away first and swept a hand out across the deck. “The floor is yours.”
Then Sienna turned toward the contestants just as she was expected to do and said, “I just want to say thank you. To all of you, for sharing yourselves with me, for being brave enough to show up fully. Like Vivian said, nothing has gone unnoticed.”
She lifted the rose slightly higher, rolled the stem between two fingers, and added, “I’m going to call out the names of the women I want to keep here with me a little longer.” Her voice was steady even though her heart pounded.
“Holly,” Sienna called first. She waited for Holly to cross the gap, pecked her on the cheek, and handed over the rose. Then she reached for another from the pedestal. Next, she called Dani, leaving Brooke, Marie and Nisha standing on the rust-orange kilim rug. Their faces were commendably neutral.
“The final person who will be staying for a bit longer…” Sienna paused.
She’d thought about this a lot. She had expected the decision to come a little easier now that she knew the women better.
And it had. She even had her top three. But then came that moment at the bush cookout, when Vivian had reached up and touched her cheek.
After that, everything she thought she knew about her decision had come crashing down.
That tiny, inappropriate gesture had happened three hours ago, but it might as well have been a second.
Sienna could still feel Vivian’s finger on her skin.
Which told her something. Something very, very important. Themba was right. She had to choose.
“Nisha, would you like to stay a bit longer?” she asked.
There was a gasp of surprise. Actually, there were several.
Not from Brooke, who stood frozen, blinking as if she’d misheard.
Not from Marie, who only nodded stiffly, as if she had expected not to get a rose all along.
But from Vivian, who had taken a step back and was frowning so hard, Sienna could see cracks in her makeup.
And from the rest of the contestants, who clearly hadn’t expected Brooke of all people to go home.
Sienna ignored them all and walked toward Nisha. “This is for you,” she said, handing her the rose with what she hoped passed for calm determination.
Brooke wasn’t the baboon. Vivian was.
And Sienna wasn’t the painted dog running back to the pack with her tail between her legs. No. She was the one baring her teeth, ready to take what she wanted.
~~
Sienna was sitting on the edge of the bed, still in her ceremony dress, staring out at the pitch darkness beyond her window.
Because the light was on inside, she could see herself in the glass.
Her hair was a little mussed. Her reflection looked slightly distorted, as if the girl staring back wasn’t entirely her.
Or maybe it was the new her and she just needed time to recognize herself.
The air conditioner purred softly, but the tent felt hot despite it. She leaned back and grabbed the remote she’d chucked on the bed earlier. She was just about to lower the temperature to freezing when three sharp knocks sounded on the front door.
Sienna perked up immediately.
Finally, this was it. This was what she’d been waiting for. The whole reason she’d sent Marie and Brooke home. To show Vivian that she was serious. To make it crystal clear.
Sienna leaped off the bed, ran her fingers through her hair, and checked that the mini bar was still stocked with the bottle of rosé she’d swiped from the lodge after the ceremony—she’d asked permission, technically—and was just about to check the status of the wine glasses when another knock sounded.
“Coming!” she called.
A heartbeat later, she yanked the door open and immediately felt the air hiss out of her like a popped balloon. Elise was standing on the welcome mat, tapping her tiny foot impatiently.
“Hi,” Sienna said, unable to hide her disappointment. From a distance, anyone watching might have called it the perfect subversion of expectation.
Elise didn’t bother with pleasantries. She pushed past Sienna into the tent and turned around to face her. “What the hell was that?” she snapped, throwing her right arm out so hard that Sienna worried it might dislocate from her shoulder.
“What do you mean?” Sienna asked sweetly. People like Elise, who were always five seconds away from exploding, had to be treated extra carefully.
Elise didn’t even blink. “The rose ceremony. You sent Brooke home.”
If there was a question in there, Sienna had missed it. “I did,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because there wasn’t a connection,” she lied.
Even someone who had never seen a connection between anyone before would have picked up on it.
But as great as it was, it couldn’t even begin to compare to what she felt for Vivian.
Sienna didn’t even understand it herself.
She could put it down to that first touch when Vivian placed her fingers on her chin.
But giving it a name or a logical explanation felt impossible, like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands.
Life was mysterious.
“You didn’t like her? Because I thought you liked her. We all did,” Elise said, frowning.
“I do like her,” Sienna said. “Brooke is smart and funny, and beautiful. She’s got this way of seeing the world that most people would never understand.
” She wasn’t exactly doing a great job at convincing Elise that there wasn’t a connection.
“I loved spending time with her. But I needed to be honest with myself. She’s not the right fit for me. ”
Elise stared at her with a look that very clearly said I don’t believe you.
Which was why Sienna felt the need to defend herself when keeping quiet would probably be the safest defense.
“Look, I can’t settle for anything less than what I’m really feeling.
Isn’t that what this show is all about? Being honest? Finding something real?” she said.
Elise exhaled hard through her nose. Sienna assumed that in the eyes of the executive producer, the show was less about one woman falling in love with another and more about the ratings. “You sent home one of our strongest storylines,” she said. “Brooke was good television.”
Sienna wanted this conversation to end. It was ruining her mood. She wondered if Vivian had made the trip to her tent, heard Elise talking, and decided to turn back. She folded her arms crossly over her chest. “Well, I’m sorry for ruining your storyline. But I didn’t come here to play a part.”
Elise laughed. It was completely hollow.
“Honey, that’s exactly what you came here for.
To play a part. I’m not saying don’t fall in love.
But at least have some direction and follow the script.
” She walked toward the door and stopped short.
Her hand hovered halfway to the knob as she turned her head.
“Pick someone and show the viewers what they tuned in for. Give them a story they want.”
Then she left.
For a beat, Sienna simply stood there, wondering if this conversation had even happened or if she had actually dozed off while waiting for Vivian to come knocking on her door. Finally, she grabbed the bottle of rosé from the mini-fridge, popped the cork herself, and poured a glass.
“I’ve already picked someone,” she said to the empty room, and then she tipped the glass back and let the rosé slide down in one long, satisfying swallow.