Then

"You okay there?" The producer for this segment is right next to me—Prisha, a striking woman in a leather jacket and neon-yellow heels. I remember her from regular filming, and she always struck me as a sharp, single-minded person who'd do anything to capture that wow moment. I like her.

Josh and I flew into LAX this morning, separately, to film the final episode: "After the Proposal." I'm waiting in the wings for Josh to join me. Even now, I can hear Matt introducing the segment, and the live audience applauding.

"You look a little pale," adds Prisha.

"Yeah. Just feeling a little sick." I smile sideways at her.

She lowers her voice and leans close. "You remember it's in the book on the side table?"

I nod, and then there's a warm presence next to me. Josh, looking crisp in a new suit, smelling piney from his aftershave.

"Josh," I say, embracing him. My heart flutters like it always does when I see him after an absence. We've been apart for three days; he had to travel to Des Moines for work, and flew in straight from there.

"Your hair," Prisha objects.

"Sorry," I laugh, pulling back and focusing on Josh as a few people adjust my hair and someone freshens up my lip gloss. "I've missed you, baby."

"I've missed you, too," says Josh, but he seems tense. A little distant. Something beyond the travel-weary Josh who gets adorably needy after his work trips.

"Is something wrong?" I whisper.

"I'll tell you later," he says. He doesn't say it in a mean way, but there isn't much warmth to his tone either.

I reach for his hand and squeeze. He squeezes back, a little too hard, like he's reproaching my squeeze. This is something new I've learned about Josh: when he's stressed, he withdraws.

The six weeks we've had together since filming ended, holed up in his Indianapolis condo in strict secrecy as the show airs, have been good, but not easy. I've had to remind myself that the Josh I fell in love with was in a controlled, luxurious environment where every date was planned and every word could be premeditated. Where he was catered to by twenty-four women and an entire team of producers. The Proposal was Josh in a petting zoo. This is Josh in the wild. It's an adjustment, and while sometimes I do feel like I didn't know who I was saying yes to in Jamaica, I refuse to see that as a negative. Different, not worse, I've told myself dozens of times, because I'm not about to doubt the biggest choice of my life over a few domestic tensions. If I was made for Josh, I was made for this Josh, too. Weirdly, it's my trust in Andy that has reassured me during some of the lows.

"Okay, you guys are on in ten seconds," whispers Prisha, urging us slightly forward.

I can see the stage now. Matt, in an oversize club chair, faces the empty love seat where Josh and I will sit. We've both seen the list of questions beforehand, but there's one surprise Josh doesn't know about.

"Ready, fiancée?" he says with a grin as we're given the signal, and he suddenly sounds so normal that I tell myself everything is going to be fine.

We walk onstage to furious applause. The lights are bright, somewhat obscuring the people in the studio, who have all leapt to their feet. I wonder if they were prescreened for their views on Synths.

Josh and I both wave, then take our seats. I adjust my short skirt while the applause dies down and Matt makes his opening remarks.

The truth is, I'm having second thoughts about the revelation I'm about to make. Not just because Josh seems a little off tonight, though that's definitely a factor.

It made sense two days ago, when I took the pregnancy test. Josh was traveling anyway, and I didn't want to tell him over the phone. The next time we saw each other was going to be here, and I remember thinking how sweet it would be to bring our Proposal experience full circle with this final big reveal.

Now I'm teetering. Is it a cute grand gesture? Or am I crazy to expose this intimate moment to all of America?

I snap out of my head just in time to realize that Matt asked me a question.

"Sorry, I missed that," I say, blushing immediately and recrossing my legs.

"A little distracted tonight, are we?" he says, charming as always.

"I mean, can you blame me?" I hold up my left hand, where my engagement ring flashes. The audience ooohs. "And this guy is always a distraction." I lean over and kiss Josh's cheek, a little rough under my lips, to applause.

"So now that we have your attention, Julia," says Matt in a cheeky tone, "why don't you tell us what it's been like living in secret for the past six weeks while the show aired?"

"It's been incredible," I gush. I don't even allow my conscience to twinge over this slight distortion. I don't owe my reality to anyone but Josh and myself. "We moved into Josh's condo in Indianapolis. I've been playing house while he gets back into things at work. Camila and I have talked a lot on the phone, she's become such a close friend, and we're both lucky to have her in our lives. And I've been enjoying the simple things. Cooking dinner, adding those feminine touches to his bachelor pad—it's so fun."

"No bumps in the road?" provokes Matt. "No second-guessing? No cold feet?"

"Never second-guessing," I say passionately. I glance at Josh with what I hope is a loving look before I continue. "To be totally honest, it's been a little challenging, especially with him traveling so much for work. But he loves his job, and I fully support that, and this is just a weird transitional time, you know? The hardest thing has been keeping it from Josh's friends and coworkers. We've been a little more isolated than we'd like. We're ready for the next step, of going public with our relationship."

"And planning a wedding?" says Matt.

"I mean..." I look at Josh.

"This isn't a shotgun wedding, Matt. We have time," says Josh. He winks at me. "The most important thing is for us to do it how we want, when we want. Surrounded by people who support us."

Oh shit.Now I'm feeling sick for more than one reason. I smile hard to mask the queasy twisting in my gut.

"That's a great perspective," says Matt. "But c'mon, guys. Surely you've talked dates? America just watched your epically romantic proposal. We're ready for wedding bells. Throw us a bone."

Josh and I look at each other. I feel the tension between us.

The thing is, we did want a quick wedding. We talked about it the day he proposed. A small wedding in Indy with a few friends. Cam would be my maid of honor, and Josh's coworker Rick would be his best man. We even debated if we wanted to ask Andy to give me away, or if that was too weird.

Later that evening, we called Josh's mom from Jamaica. She congratulated us super warmly and promised to get back to us on the two dates we'd suggested for the wedding. Which is why when the show aired and she dropped off the face of the earth, it threw us for such a loop.

In retrospect, she never should have found out I'm a Synth from the show. On the other hand, Josh kept not feeling quite ready.

"We could just drive down to see her. Explain everything in person," I suggested after the first week of silence. "Isn't Eauverte just a couple hours away?"

"We can't just show up like that," he said, angry like I'd suggested we rob a bank or kill a puppy. "You don't have a mom. You just don't get it, Julia."

I should've let it go.

"So ever since we signed a Synth as one of our contestants, we knew there would be controversy," says Matt. "How are you two feeling about entering the real world? Exposing yourself to the opinions of...well, everyone!"

Ugh. Entering the real world. A bitter comeback springs to mind about how if we all admit reality TV isn't real, maybe we should rename it fantasy TV. But I brush the thought away. This question was on the list, thank God, so I already have an answer that avoids dragging in our baggage with Josh's mom.

"We're feeling great." Josh seems completely sincere, like there are no issues at all. Like he didn't punch a hole in our drywall two weeks ago, after I told him I'd tried calling his mom myself and left her a couple voicemails.

"Stay out of it, Julia. You're just going to fuck things up. Why did you think that was a good idea, huh? Why? I already told you this is between my mom and me."

The next day, he quietly spackled over the hole. Now, there's no evidence of it. Just like there's no evidence right now, in his light expression and easy talking, that his mom's rejection of me, and of him, has stabbed him in the heart, deep, someplace not even I can reach.

I can only hope that when she finds out she's going to be a grandma, she'll start picking up the phone.

Matt is skilled and suave, and the questions tick right along as scheduled. During the commercial breaks, we drink bottled water and makeup people powder our foreheads. At one point, Josh and I go backstage and Camila comes out. She squeezes my hand as we pass in the wings. I mouth, Bitch, and she mouths it back. Then Josh goes out, and he and Cam talk. I watch them from the wings as they laugh, and she touches his arm, and he touches hers, and she gets a little teary-eyed, and Josh hugs her. I'm used to the little flame of jealousy sputtering in my gut when I see them together, but it's small, and easy to ignore in the face of my absolute trust of Camila. She's been really open with me about her brokenhearted departure from the show, and also so sincerely enthusiastic in her support of us. Which I know will probably never make sense to anyone who hasn't been through the experience we have. But we don't need anyone else to understand.

Finally, I join them, and Cam and I answer questions about our own unlikely "hate to love" journey and whether she really thinks a Synth-human marriage will work.

It's nearing the end when Matt finally gives my prompt.

"So it's time for a surprise announcement. I'd like to give the floor to Julia for this incredibly special surprise, and a first in Proposal history."

I grab the book from the side table and turn a little on the love seat to face Josh. Cam and Matt are watching from their individual chairs.

"So, Josh, I have something in here that you might like to see." I open the cover. It's a false book, with a hole. I take out the white stick and hand it over fast, so the cameras don't catch on to the trembling in my fingers.

He takes it. And freezes.

In reality, he's only frozen for probably two seconds. But in my heart, it's an eternity longer.

In those two seconds, I read everything that's going on inside Josh:

He's shocked.

He's embarrassed to be shocked.

He's angry that I surprised him in front of all these people.

His eyes flicker; something intense sparks.

Then, he smiles, and my entire body sags with relief, because my read was wrong; he's not angry after all, and it's going to be okay.

"Julia!" He flings his arms around me. "This is the best surprise ever." There's applause, there's confetti, there's music. We're all standing up, and Cam is hugging us, screaming, "Can I be the godmother? Oh my God, you guys! You're having a baby!"

Then Matt is asking how far along I am, and if this is a Fantasy Suite baby, but I demur, because I feel like it's the right move to preserve some level of secrecy.

When the show is finally over, Josh finds me in my dressing room. He shuts the door, leans his back against it, and we look at each other from across the space. I'm on top of the world, and I open my mouth to say so when he cuts in.

"What the fuck, Julia? A baby?"

I struggle to steady myself even though it feels like my entire world is tilting. Why can't I seem to get a handle on my fiancé's emotions?

"I thought you'd be excited," I say, determined to remain outwardly calm and ride this out.

He groans and leans his head back, gently banging it against the door. "Please tell me this kid wasn't conceived in the fucking Fantasy Suite."

I swallow and don't answer.

"You didn't think to use protection?" He's looking at the ceiling.

My voice is quiet. Still calm, as calm as I can make it. "No. I...wasn't thinking. It was my first time."

No response. I wait.

"I'm sorry," I finally say.

Josh heaves out a long breath. "My mom finally called."

"Josh! That's great!"

But he doesn't lower his face. In fact, he's shaking his head ever so slightly, with a strange smile like he's in the grip of some cruel irony.

"Or...wait," I say. "Is she okay?"

His eyes meet mine over the endless expanse of the dressing room, the endless expanse of our wildly differing emotions. My heart thuds and thuds, like it's trying to reach Josh, like it's knocking against bone hoping it's a door that someone will open, but it's just bone.

Just six weeks ago, Josh's eyes were full of hope, love, excitement, desire. Now? They've gone opaque, like all of that's been stuffed behind this layer of disappointment and pain. I can't even tell if it's just about his mom, or if there's more he's not telling me.

"She has stage four breast cancer." His voice is flat.

"Oh, Josh." This explains the tension when we met in the wings. This explains why the idea of a baby isn't immediately exciting. He can't release himself to the joy of new life when death is staring him in the face. And not just any death—his only parent. Or rather, the only one that matters.

Everything in me wants to leap up, cross the room, and enfold Josh in the strongest hug I can give. But I don't move.

"What can I do?" I whisper.

"Well, obviously, we have to fucking take care of her," he says, like he's pissed I would even have to ask.

I nod slowly. As awful as this night has been, I force myself to get past the sting of his reaction to my pregnancy announcement, and past the short-term blow of having to reorient our lives before we've found our footing. The most important thing is for Josh and me to do right by his mom in her time of need, and restore that relationship as best we can.

I'm about to tell Josh that I'm ready to do whatever is needed when a surge of nausea twists me. Acid explodes up my throat. I put a hand on my gut as a feeling of profound weakness tears through me, ripping all my determination to be strong, like my willpower is made of paper.

"Sorry," I say as I lean over the trash can by my dressing table and puke. "Morning sickness."