Then

I'm about to meet a surprise guest.

No one was caught more off guard than I was when, immediately following the rose ceremony that brought our number down to nine, the show's host, Matt, pulled me aside.

"There's someone who's dying to meet you," he said. "This is a little unconventional, but we couldn't say no. Would you mind coming with me?"

"Who is it?" I ask as he leads me away from the celebratory toasting. Besides Andy, everyone I know in the entire world is here, on the show.

"If I told you, that would ruin the surprise," teases Matt.

He brings me to the double doors that lead into the house's formal sitting room.

Cameras, I'm sure, will be waiting on the other side to register my reaction. I smooth my formfitting black sequined dress and close my eyes as a guy from makeup smears some highlighter on my cheekbones. I'm still basking in the memory of how big Josh smiled when he handed me the rose.

We've had one more solo date in the weeks since our first, and I've been on two other group dates. One started with a competitive obstacle course to determine which team of girls got to spend the evening with Josh; the other was more relaxed, with beach volleyball and grilled burgers. My favorite moment was when Josh was trying to teach me to grill and, after I dropped not one but two burgers in the sand, declared me hopeless.

"Maybe my ineptitude is just a ruse," I said as he play-wrestled the metal spatula from my grip.

"Oh yeah?" He slung an arm around my neck as he flipped a patty with the reclaimed spatula. "And why would you pretend to suck at grilling?"

"Maybe so you'll spend all your time trying to teach me?"

"Maybe I want to spend all my time with you anyway."

"Teaching me to grill?" I teased, pressing my body against his. My bikini was still damp from a dip in the ocean, and I could feel the thinness of the fabric between us, the way my breasts flattened against his chest. "Or teaching me other things?" I leaned up like I was going to whisper in his ear, and trapped his earlobe between my teeth, biting gently, drawing a little grunt from him.

"I have a secret," I breathed, my senses thundering with desire.

"What?"

I stayed close, allowing my breath to tickle his ear, relishing my ability to stoke his hunger, then whispered, "Your burgers are burning."

"Shit!" he cried, laughing as I skipped away. "You are trouble, Miss Julia! Don't think you're going to get away with this!"

There were bitter comments later that night from the girls about how some people were monopolizing Josh's attention, but I let them slide off my conscience like water. I told Josh the first night that I wouldn't make the mistake of holding back again. This was me, delivering on that promise. Exploring the parts of me that were made to tempt him, and using them without regret.

"Okay, are you ready?" says Matt, snapping me back to the present.

"Sure." I take a deep breath as the grand double doors swing open. I don't have to fake my gasp.

"Oh my God!" squeal two of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen. Before I can get my bearings, I'm enfolded in a tangle of arms and a strong smell of mint and rum.

"You know who we are, right?" gushes one, pulling back and adjusting her long dark hair so that it swoops over both tanned shoulders.

"Christi and Chrystel!" I exclaim.

"Yes!" cries Christi. Besides their clothing styles, the only difference between them is their hair—Christi's long and dark, Chrystel's bobbed and bleached at the tips. Christi claps her hands together. "We're here filming a special segment of Keeping Up with the Synths! Welcome to Season 4!"

"Wow!" I can't help but feel a little starstruck. Okay, a lot starstruck. There are always rag mags lying around the house, and Christi and Chrystel feature heavily. I've seen them on best-dressed and worst-dressed lists, in candid shots at celebrity parties, on beaches, in sweatpants and ball caps making grocery store runs.

"Can you believe this?" says Chrystel, flipping her bob. "The only three Synths in the country, together in one room?"

"It would be the perfect opportunity for a hater to, like, blow us up," says Christi with dark humor.

"Not funny!" cries Chrystel, whacking her twin on the arm.

They're nearly as tall as me, with sculpted figure-eight bodies and striking faces. Christi's style is more street: ripped boyfriend jeans, a sequin-encrusted tube top, and high-heeled sneakers. Chrystel is all-out glam, in wide-leg sheer black pants that reveal her high-waisted underwear, and a corset top that looks more like a bra.

"So we've been dying to meet you," says Christi.

"Obviously," says Chrystel.

"I'm so flattered," I say, feeling overwhelmed. Their personalities are larger than life.

"And, obviously, we'd love to know all about you," says Christi. "Like, how is this process for you? How are we feeling about our chances with Josh? Let's sit! Drinks?"

Christi pours three glasses of rosé while Chrystel settles into a mustard velvet love seat. I take the wing chair next to it. They're obviously just as practiced as I am at ignoring the crew moving around us.

"Like, some people have objected that since you were designed for Josh, you have an unfair advantage," says Christi, artfully draping herself on the love seat beside her sister. "I'm so curious to hear your response. Also because by the time this segment airs, your journey will be over for better or for worse, so we can contrast your expectations with how it all plays out." The sisters both drum their fingers together in fake villainy and I have to laugh.

"I mean, yes, I was designed with his personality in mind, but I don't think that makes it any easier for me. There are a lot of girls whose personalities fit really well with Josh's. I honestly can't make any predictions. I'm taking it as it comes. There are amazing moments, and really hard moments."

"It's like real life, but on steroids," says Christi.

I don't have real life to compare it to yet, but I smile and nod. "I mean, your real life is kind of your show, right? The two are blended?" My curiosity is genuine, and I want so badly to ask if they feel a sense of purpose outside of the men they were designed for. Though the answer seems obvious. With their show and their ambition and Christi wanting a divorce...they must. "Do you...like being in the public eye?"

"Some days," laughs Chrystel. "Other days..."

"...we just want to flip everyone off and hide in bed," finishes Christi.

"But we keep letting them in, because we think it's important for people to see we're just like other women."

"And because we love attention."

I laugh. I can't help but love these two. They're so bubbly, and so delightfully honest. I take a sip of wine. There's a little buzz in my head, and I can't tell if it's from the alcohol or the twins' intoxicating presence.

"This may be a weird question, but do you feel like your identities are separate from the Klavson brothers?" I ask. "I mean—obviously there's the divorce thing going on—" I blush. I'm sticking my foot in my mouth.

"Honestly, it's a whole journey." Christi laughs. "I do feel kind of empty right now, kind of listless or whatever, but that could also be, like, heartbreak, you know? I'm focusing on me and really trying to take control of my own destiny, but it's for sure a work in progress."

I sense I should leave it there, but I find myself pressing on. "You think we have a destiny, like, separate than what we were, um...made for?"

"I think destiny is bullshit," says Christi firmly. "We are our choices."

"Oh, totally," echoes Chrystel, clapping in approval. I clap, too, because it seems rude not to.

Part of me loves Christi's answer. The other part is revolted by it. It sounds so cold. I don't want to live by choices. I want to live by love—a love that's stronger than me. That feels right...doesn't it?

"So, dish," says Chrystel, folding her hands in her lap and wiggling in her seat. "Are you in love? Do you think Josh is in love?"

"I'm not ready to tell him I love him yet, but... I think I'm close," I say. "And Josh... I don't know. Like, I feel so close with him, but I also know he's close with some of the other girls. I'm trying to stay hopeful and realistic, you know?"

God. I'm trying not to imagine this being on TV a few months down the road, spliced with some future footage, like a heartbreaking scene of me leaving The Proposal in tears. It's a wallop of a reminder that this process is actually very short, and the end just around the corner.

"You have zero sense of how this is going to turn out?" Christi asks.

I press my lips together. Truthfully? It does feel like Josh is falling for me. But sometimes, the most confident girl has ended up going home. I've seen it happen to Emily, who thought her date was perfect in week three. To Bailey, who was sure it was in the bag week four. This show is a lesson in things not being what they seem.

I take a deep breath and smile. "No idea."

"So, not to get all serious and glum, but I think it's important—" starts Chrystel, nudging her sister.

"—to say, as Synths, that we are so sorry about what happened to you," finishes Christi.

For a second I don't know what they're talking about. Then it hits me. "Oh...the attack?"

Christi nods. I wonder who leaked that to the twins. Anyway, it feels like a million years ago. But I suppose it was just a couple weeks.

"As you know, I was sexually assaulted last year," says Chrystel, putting a hand to her chest. "I'm just so grateful that I've had so much support." She touches her sister's arm. "I know my story isn't just about me. So many women have come forward and shared. It's about all of us."

Christi raises an eyebrow. "Let's say it like it is, though. Not everyone has been supportive. BotTech, hello?"

"God, I hope your experience with WekTech is better," says Chrystel. "Actually, do you think Andy could adopt us? We need a new daddy!"

"They've practically disowned us," says Christi. "And did you know they're actually suing me for trying to get a divorce? Like, am I a person to them or not? Make up your mind! Their lawyers are, like, on crack."

I feel bad for the twins, but while part of me is wondering what it must feel like to despise the people that made me, all this talk of family and adoption and disowning is also stirring up a recent anxiety: Hometown Dates.

The other girls in the house have started dreaming about the chance to introduce Josh to their families, a privilege of the final four. But, assuming I make it that far, who do I have to bring Josh home to? WekTech?

I get the feeling that Josh thinks of me as a woman, and rarely as a Synth, which I appreciate. But it also makes me nervous. What happens when there are no parents to meet? No childhood home, no friends? Is he ready, has he thought this through, or will it be a rude awakening?

The sisters are still going off on BotTech. It's biting and cute and makes me realize even more how lucky I am to have Andy, who seems to truly love and respect me.

When it's time for the twins to go, they call for tequila shots, which we down together. Boom mics are lowered and we share one final hug.

Christi whispers in my ear, "We try to play it positive, because that's, like, our brand, but there are a lot of dicks out there, okay? Be careful." Chrystel adds, "If things get tough, call us. We Synths have to stick together." Christi whispers, "We can't kill anyone for you, but we're rich, so—" and Chrystel adds, "—we have enough money to hire that shit out," which makes us giggle together in our little huddle.

Of all the things they've said tonight, this means the most, because it wasn't meant for the cameras, or their brand building, or their strategies, of which I sense there are many. These words were meant just for me, and I know that if I ever need to take them up on this offer, I can.