Sitting backstage in my private dressing room, my hands are trembling. I’ve done all the interviews, keeping up the front so that no one, especially the producers of the show, can get a preview of what’s going to happen. Thankfully, Lee’s been doing his own thing, and I haven’t had to interact with him at all. Other than a few swapped texts, I haven’t heard from him since coming back into town. If anything, it only reinforces the feelings I have for what I’m going to do.

Still, it’s all I can do to wait to see Hayden. I’ve considered sneaking into his dressing room a million times, but I have to wait to do this right. I’m gonna throw this whole shit show out in the open on live TV. They’re filming it right after the finale airs. I may be sweet and even naïve, but I’m not a doormat, even if I’ve felt like one during this whole ordeal. I’ve got some devious friends who know how to make some drama, and I’m on board to do what I need to so I can have a chance to really choose the right man.

Lee pops into my room, looking happier than ever. Guess he’s gotten some more Instagram followers. “Hey, babe, wanted to make sure you were ready for this. You need help with your lines or anything?” He reaches for my hand, acting like he actually cares, and I pull back. He looks at me, tilting his head. “What’s up?”

“You barely talk to me all week and ignored me the whole time I was home. Now you want to call me babe and ask about my lines? Just save it.”

Lee looks angry, like someone just took his favorite toy away from him, and I wonder for a moment if that’s all I’ve ever been, a toy. “Fine. Just wanted to help. Look, just follow my lead and we’ll be fine. Don’t fuck this up again.”

He leaves, and I take a moment to wonder at how quickly he’s gone from sweet and romantic, saying all the right things to get me to fall for his bullshit, to . . . this. He’s abrupt and cold, and I realize that this is the real him. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before because now, it’s so obvious. I really wish I could have seen the other confessionals from the other guys, or at least been able to interact with everyone without Meredith’s tinkering. I’m sure I would have still fallen for Hayden, but I could have given some other, more deserving guy the chance to get to know me and maybe have a chance to be what Hayden is now, the Season Two Match.

No time to worry about that now. I walk out to set, Brad giving me a discreet thumbs-up while McKayla flips me off with a wink. I know she’s not telling me to fuck off, but instead is encouraging me to fuck some shit up, and I smile back. I see Nate next to Meredith but ignore him as he asked me to. I don’t want to give it away that he’s told me anything. I still don’t know what the armlock Brad and McKayla have on him is, but I don’t care. He did the right thing in the end.

Sitting down on two rows of couches, the show starts with the audience clapping loudly. The first half of the finale has just aired, where we’ve come to Vegas and I’ve had my fantasy dates. Now, of course, everyone gets to watch as the final confessionals and the final Match are made.

I see Hayden, and he keeps glancing at me like he wants to say something. There’s a fire in his eyes that I didn’t see in Vegas, and I recognize the same look in mine from the mirror this morning. I don’t know what his plans are, but I don’t care if he’s supposed to be the next season’s Match or not. If I have to, I’m going to tackle him right here on stage and cover him in kisses if that’s what it takes.

All of the top ten guys are here, with the host asking them questions while the show is going through the slow parts that are meant to draw out the tension and draw out the advertisers’ money. It’s weird, listening to the host ask questions to all the suitors. The guys all talk about me like I’m not sitting right on the other side of the semi-circular stage, an empty spot next to me for the ‘big reveal’.

Most of them are complimentary, but there are a few snide remarks, mostly from frat-boy wannabes Mark and Luke, who are still whining about how they didn’t realize the mics would pick up their comments. I shake my head, glad I cut them.

I smile a little as I look over at Hayden, remembering . . . well, not quite everything.

Finally, the final scene shows, the audience clapping their asses off as Lee comes over and sits down beside me. The host turns all of her questions to the final two suitors. I glance off stage, where I see McKayla draw her thumb across her throat. Go for the kill.

I clear my throat to get ready to lay it all out there, but before I can, Lee jumps up. He turns to the camera, holding out his hand. “Wait, guys. First, I have something to say.” He drops to one knee, holding up a ring box, and the audience goes wild. “Emily, I never thought I’d find my Match on a game show, but I did. I love you. Marry me. We can even make it air as a special episode for the audience.” He turns to the audience to hype them up, like he’s some sort of pro wrestler working the crowd. “Would you like that?” They cheer again. Lee turns back, trying to slide the ring onto my finger.

“Wait, wait—” I try to protest, but Lee’s grabbed my wrist in a steely grip, and I can barely move. Finally, I curl my finger, anything to keep him from shoving that damn thing on my hand.

Lee glares daggers at me, muttering under his breath, “Follow my lead. It’s perfect.”

I look back and him and then at Hayden, who looks like he’s about to jump out of his chair, held back maybe only by the fact that this could be on live TV. “Wait, I have something to say—”

Lee interrupts, pulling me close to kiss me, forcing his lips on me before pulling back and grinning at the host and the audience. “Look, everyone, she’s so taken with the whole thing.”

Across the stage from me, I hear Cody, who’s been sort of quiet most of the show, speak up. “Seems like the woman has something to say, Lee, so why don’t you be quiet and let her talk?”

I glance over, and while he’s smiling at Lee, it’s decidedly menacing. Lee notices as well and lets me go, rising from his kneeling pose. I give Cody a nod of thanks and get out of my seat to address the audience. Off camera, Meredith’s about ready to have a fit, but she can’t interrupt, she knows that. “You know, I started this show just like you, a home viewer who thought an adventure on a reality TV show would be the experience of a lifetime. I mean, I’m not what the producers made me sound like. I’m no budding leader in education or whatever it was. I’m just a nanny who likes taking care of three precious little kids and loved getting my daily dose of drama. So Matchmaker sounded like a lot of fun. And it was. Until I was given a peek behind the green curtain and saw just how ugly and manipulative it can be.”

The audience is quiet, looking at each other uncertainly. The host keeps glancing off set and holding her finger up to her ear, probably being relayed information from Meredith or someone from the network who’s off camera. I don’t care. This isn’t for the home audience. This is for me and for the truth. “I went on dates with these guys, with producers and camera crew and more folks all around. It’s never private. Even those supposedly private, intimate moments have hidden cameras. And Meredith, the producer, is telling us what to say, how to react. And I get that. It’s her job to make sure she gets the scenes she needs. But is it her job to manipulate us behind the scenes? Telling us a narrative that she’s created, showing us confessionals that never aired because she psyched us out, telling us what others said and did, making us believe something that wasn’t true? That’s what this show is.”

There’s a few boos from the audience, and even a couple of the guys look outraged. Dean and Cody, in particular, look like they’re about to rip someone’s head off. I turn to Lee, who’s turning blotchy, his cheeks bright red but his forehead almost bloodless while his eyes look shadowed. “You know what, Lee? I found out the truth about you. How you threatened the show with your social media fans, that you’d make a scandal to derail the show even before it got started.”

“I . . . that’s a damned lie—” Lee starts, his face going surly. “Babe—”

“Let me finish!” I yell, getting angry now. “I’m not going to marry you, not on some special episode, not ever. You tried to hurt people. You lied, most of all, to me! You tried to ruin my chance to find love, to find someone, and why? To get a few more social media fans?”

Lee looks like he’s about to explode, and he stands up, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You stupid bitch. You’re ruining everything I worked for. It’s always about you, you, you. You know what? I was supposed to be the Match next season, that’s what. I was gonna break up with you, total sob story, of course, and be the heartbroken heartthrob looking for a second chance. And then Mr. Top Fucking Model went and fucked that up, too!”

Lee lunges at Hayden, but Dean cuts him off him with a nifty little move that’s so quick I can’t even understand what he’s doing. All I know is that Dean steps between Lee and me, they spin, and suddenly, Lee’s guided rather forcefully into his seat again, where Cody’s ready to clap his huge ham hock-like hands on his shoulders. Dean looks at me shyly, giving me a half-smile. “Never had the chance to tell you . . . third-degree black belt in Aikido.”

I give Dean a hug and turn back to Hayden, who’s stood up at the general commotion. Meredith is wildly gesturing for a commercial break, but the host is loving this and waves me on. I turn to Hayden, crossing the space and standing in front of him, reaching out and taking his hands.

“And you. I fell for you, hook, line, and sinker. Not some showbiz version, but for the real you. And as much as I was tricked by Lee’s scheming and Meredith’s manipulations, you were too, and I hope you realize that. Because I love you, Hayden. Show be damned—hell, everything be damned. I love you.”

I stand there, holding my breath, waiting for him to respond. It feels like forever. I don’t hear anything for a long time until there’s a small cough and the host breaks the silence. “Hayden?”

He holds my hands tighter, but I don’t feel the controlling power that Lee was trying to overwhelm me with, but the same strength that Hayden’s always had. He doesn’t force himself on me as much as reassure me. “I knew you were dating us all. That was the point,” he says, not looking anywhere but in my eyes. “But by the pond that night, something changed and I started falling for you. For real. I guess just seeing the dates set me back. I wasn’t ready for it. And when you said I was just some bad boy fantasy you were playing out, I thought you were just using me.”

I interrupt, blinking. “Bad boy fantasy? Wait, the confessional where I had to say something bad about you?” He looks surprised, nodding, and I look up into the studio lights, starting to laugh before I look him in the eyes again. “Yeah, Meredith had me film a confessional saying good and bad things about each contestant so they could slip them in as needed throughout the season. The worst thing I could come up with for you was that you’re my bad boy fantasy come to life and that you could easily break my heart, because I’d already given it to you.”

Someone in the audience ‘whooooos’ and there’s a general chuckle around the room as Hayden grins. He steps closer, and the audience lets out another ooooh worthy of a group of middle-schoolers. “That’s what you said before they edited it?”

I wrap my arms around his neck, nodding, smiling, and blinking back tears in my eyes all at the same time. “Yes, and you broke my heart, just like I predicted.”

Hayden sweeps that same damn curl behind my ear again and touches his forehead to mine, lowering his voice to the point that I wonder if the cameras can pick up the sound at all. I really don’t give a shit though. “I’m sorry. I thought you were breaking mine. I love you too.”

For an instant, we just look into each other’s eyes and then we kiss. From far away, I hear Cody laugh in his signature drawl. “Finally. Took y’all damn near long enough. That’s the problem with you city people. Talk, talk, talk. Like Elvis said, little less conversation, little more action!”

As we pull apart, the interviewer, ever astute, asks, “Uhm, you said by the pond? What date was that, because we never saw a pond date?” Our eyes widen, realizing we just told on ourselves, and we laugh.

“Yeah . . . uh, that wasn’t part of the show.”