“I take safety very seriously,” I inform him. “You joke now, but when this ship goes down, you’re going to wish you’d paid attention. I’m going to be backstroking to shore with my life jacket on.”

“This is taking a serious Titanic turn,” he says, and cups his hands together. “Bloop.”

“Bloop?” I ask. “What is bloop?”

“You know, bloop, there goes the heart-of-the-ocean-necklace thing. That’s, like, the ultimate Titanic reference.”

“Uh, I think not,” I tell him defiantly. “Maybe Kate Winslet’s hand on the steamy window. Or ‘Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack.’ Or the band playing as the ship goes down! Or even the door that Jack makes Rose float on. But not bloop. That is not high on the list of Titanic pop-culture references.”

“I feel like there’s a need for more nuance in this conversation than you’re willing to allow.”

“Quiet, people! Listen to Captain Jorge,” Beck shouts.

Henry leans over, and in a loud whisper says, “For the record, there was definitely room for two on that door. Jack died in vain, and I stand by my case, Your Honor.”

I gasp. “Oh my God, yes! Justice for Jack! Justice for Leo!” I shout.

Everyone around us is completely quiet as Captain Jorge clears his throat at the sound of my interruption.

“Sorry,” I screech as I try for an apologetic smile.

“Oooooo,” Henry says just loud enough for me to hear.

“No room on my door for you,” I tell him.

After the safety procedures, Beck and Mallory lead us to the front of the boat, where a blanket, chocolate-dipped fruit, and a bucket of champagne are waiting for us.

“Told you there was a bottle of cheap champagne at the end of the safety-briefing rainbow,” Henry whispers into my ear.

For a while, the boat crashes against waves until we settle out at sea without any land in sight. We are posed like dolls with a lavender-and-orange-sherbet sunset at our backs, and Gretchen curses under her breath at my hair’s unwillingness to obey. Henry and I have nothing left to say in this moment with the cameras rolling, so we say nothing at all.

He leans back with his arms braced behind him, and I lean against his chest as the boat rocks gently back and forth and the sun dips slowly down the horizon.

We share a soft, chaste kiss or two, but for the most part, our silence is comforting and lived-in. I resist yelling over to Beck to ask if we’re moony enough for her. She must be happy with whatever footage she’s getting, because she doesn’t interrupt us or give us any direction at all.

My eyes flutter shut for a few moments, and even though I can’t distance myself enough from the cameras and crew and boat staff to actually fall asleep here against Henry’s chest, I’m able to let my mind drift just enough that for a few brief seconds I can trick myself into thinking it’s just the two of us floating on the Titanic door. Because there was definitely room for two.

And maybe—just maybe—fate isn’t a total crock. Maybe the fairy tales aren’t all wrong.

The crew follows us as we walk back to my villa, our fingers intertwined as ours hands swing between us.

“Was that awful?” Henry asks.

I shake my head. “For a TV date, it was decidedly not awful.”

In the distance, the waves crash and there’s enough noise for me to feel comfortable asking, “I’ll see you soon, right?” It’s the closest I can bring myself to asking him if I’ll see him back at the château next week.

He brings my knuckles up to his lips. “Not soon enough.”

In front of my door, he wraps his arms around me and kisses me. It’s not a television kiss. It’s a private kiss, the kind that makes me sure that his decision is made. Henry has picked me. And I’ve picked him.

“All right, you two,” Beck says as we begin to pull apart. “Mallory, escort Henry back to his villa. And, Cin, it’s time to go home.”

Home. Home. I can’t even fathom what real life will feel like. Cell phones and television and the triplets and my stepsisters and my stepmom and Sierra and tabloids and internet. Just the thought of it all makes me feel like I’m drowning.

“Soon,” I whisper to Henry.

He links his little finger with mine in a secret pinkie promise.

Inside, my bags are packed except for the leggings, Vans, and cropped sweatshirt I left out.

When I walk back outside with my dress draped over my arm and the baby-blue espadrilles dangling from my fingers, I find Mallory smacking on a piece of gum and waiting for me.

“Where’s Beck?” I ask.

She shrugs. “We gotta go. You’re on the last flight out, and if you don’t make it, you’re stuck here until tomorrow.”

I hand her the dress and shoes. “Irina wants you to keep the shoes,” she says. “And honestly, you could just take the dress too.”

“Oh, okay,” I say. My complicated feelings about Irina are slowly growing into a soft spot, and I’d like to think she feels the same way about me.

“Will I get to say goodbye to everyone?”

She looks at me, her brow pinched together. “That’s not really how this works.”

I nod and follow her to the entrance with my two suitcases, my most faithful companions, rolling along on either side.

A black limousine is waiting for me, and the driver hauls my suitcases into the trunk as I stuff the dress and shoes in my carry-on.

“Well,” I say to Mallory, and hold my arms out for a hug.

She doesn’t move and just eyes me uncomfortably.

“I guess this isn’t a hugging situation?”

She laughs a little and shakes her head, before taking pity on me and giving me a quick side hug.

I realize that for the crew, this whole experience is a constant cycle of people going home, but I’m feeling a little more emotional than I expected; I imagined this moment would be bigger, but instead, I’m quietly heading back home to sit by my door and wait for an invitation to the final ball.

I settle into the seat, and we begin to drive toward the gates.

Leaning my head back against the leather seat, I feel a resistance growing in my chest. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to go back to the real world. I also don’t want to compete with other women for Henry’s attention, but I’m not ready for whatever comes next. There were times in the last few weeks when I couldn’t even imagine this moment finally arriving. But it’s here and gone. And now so am I.