Meet Your Match

10 (updated)

Unlike the matching, the elimination was a suits-only event. I'd gone for unbuttoned, loose, and casual; Hanna's was a double-breasted dark purple suit.

It made sense that makeup and hair for everyone was immaculate—if we were going to go home, we'd better do it looking our best.

Various clips were being shown in the foyer, including one I hadn't seen before of Hanna moving a giant outdoor umbrella to shield me from the sun while I napped in a yard chair. Was that the day of the key pass? Warmed and unsettled at the same time, I tried not to overthink.

After all, there was a chance I'd be going home.

At the end of last night, I'd caught Mitch's eyes on me as he muttered to a TV. After defiantly winning our glaring match...I'd woken up to the sound of a distant train, and tear tracks on my face.

Let it be him or me. Him or me. Him or me...

On a velvet sheet, spread across the center of a table, were the glass flowers belonging to each couple.

I stared straight ahead as the the 60-second countdown began.

I'd told Hanna I would try, and I'd done my very best. Whatever had made it in, whatever people had seen at home...I hoped it had been enough to get us another week.

But if not, I'd accept that I needed to leave all this—and her—behind.

The countdown vanished at zero. A pair of names, though not a couple—

SUNIL...AMIRA...

We were off to a great start. I beamed at both of them as they retreated out of the light—into safety.

FELIX...MITCH...

I would not wince. I would not wince. I would not wince.

JANE...HALSTON...

I stumbled backward to where the floor was marked for me.

Glancing at Hanna, still in the light—still at risk of elimination—I saw her shoulders relax. She must have been confident that if I was safe, she would be safe.

ODELL...SHANNON...

ALESSANDRA...THOMAS...

MEGAN...JENNIFER...

KIERAN...HANNA...

"Fire balls successfully dodged," someone said under their breath, and I imagined Kieran's and Hanna's angered fans using a trebuchet to kill us all.

Before I could react, Hanna stunned us all by wrapping her arms around me.

"Thank you," she said into my ear, as if I alone deserved the credit.

Puzzled but pleased nonetheless, I returned the hug. Our contact naturally broke when she retreated to her own spot.

Which left Crystal—who was gnashing her teeth—and Wyatt, who looked as baffled as I'd felt a moment ago.

Twelve of us were prompted to head to our rooms with our glass flowers. Mitch and Shannon had to stay behind with Crystal and Wyatt.

I assumed we'd talk, but both exhausted, Hanna and I went to sleep.

We entered the confessional together the following day. My face burned whenever I spoke—securing another week hadn't calmed Hanna down; it had sharpened her intensity, and being at the center of her awareness was a tad too near the sun for me. "I'm melting," I told her. (She put a little fan in my face and turned it on.)