For the Right Reasons (16 page)

Every week, Emily sent another disappointed guy home, but I never got nervous during the rose ceremonies. I was confident we aligned better than anyone else.

By the time the group had been narrowed down to six, we went to Prague. Chris Harrison set the stage, once again, by filming that episode’s opening scene at Prague Castle—the largest ancient castle in the world and home of the president of the Czech Republic.

It was a chilly morning, and the streets were virtually empty. “This is by
far the biggest week. Your relationship is about to take a huge step forward,” he said. “The four of you who receive roses this week will be able to take Emily back home to meet your family—a huge step in any relationship.”

Right in the middle of shooting, we were treated to a private performance of the changing of the guards, which happens every hour, on the hour. It was a memorable moment as we stood atop that chilly hill, with an amazing view of this historic city. Afterward, Chris continued with his speech.

“This week, there will be four dates—three romantic one-on-one dates and a group date,” he said. “The man who gets that rose is guaranteed to get that hometown date and introduce Emily to your family.”

I was staying with the guys close to Prague Castle and the Charles Bridge, at a hotel called Aria. Emotions were high among Arie, Chris, John, Doug, Jef, and me, because everything was accelerating. When the prospect of bringing Emily home to meet family came up, things got serious fast. The three one-on-one dates were more critical than ever.

I didn’t get one.

There I was in the hotel in this gorgeous city, alone. Well, I was never truly alone. I almost always was surrounded by the guys, producers, sound technicians, and cameramen. One night, however, I managed to sneak out of my room and go to the first floor of our hotel, where there was a community computer.

Of course, this was forbidden. We were supposed to disappear completely during our ten weeks on the show. But I’d never experienced any type of fame at all. I knew that if I could just log on to that computer, I could Google my name and find articles about me and the show. It was a strange feeling to know there was Internet chatter about me—when I was previously an unknown insurance salesman. The show had not yet begun to air, but I knew the spoilers had already been on the case and revealed our identities.

I got into the lobby and looked around. No producers. No cameramen. No problem.

My heart raced as I slipped into the chair in front of the computer and logged on for the first time in almost two months.

“Sean Lowe Bachelorette,” I typed into the search engine. Within a
matter of seconds, a few articles came up about the upcoming cast of
The Bachelorette
. It was all generic stuff, a description of where I lived, what I did for a living. But it was the first time I had my own Google footprint—small as it was—and it felt pretty weird.

When I got back into the room, no one had noticed I’d been missing. A couple of the guys who didn’t get one-on-one dates were devastated. I was disappointed, too, but I felt good about where I stood with Emily. Now that we were deeper into the season, the producers—with whom we spent so much time—started asking more personal and probing questions. Scott, the producer assigned to me, pulled me aside in Prague and said, “It’s obvious you and Emily have a special connection.”

This scratched exactly where I itched. Unlike people who would later be watching at home, I had no idea what sorts of connections Emily was making with the other guys. My only way of gauging our relationship was through our personal interactions—and those were few and far between. The producers, on the other hand, saw everything that was going on. Since one of the producers, Scott, said we had a connection, it confirmed what I already felt.

“Do you think you could see yourself marrying Emily?” he asked.

These chats with the producers really stirred emotions inside me and made me think about it.
Do I? Yeah, I guess I kind of do
.

“I just hate that I can’t spend time with Emily,” I confided in Scott the evening that my good friend John Wolfner was on his one-on-one date with her.

“Let’s figure out a way to get you alone with her,” Scott said. “She’s going to come home, drop Wolf off. Let’s make a move.”

“What do you mean?” He had my attention.

“Let Wolf tell you about his date,” he said. “Then you can slip out and try to find her.”

I was thrilled at the idea of having a private one-on-one. (Well, as private as you could get on a televised dating show.) After Wolf came home and told us the evening went really well, I excused myself and slipped out the door.

Scott, my coconspirator, was waiting for me outside. “We’re going to have to hurry to find her.”

I knew Emily was staying at another hotel just around the corner from us, but I had no idea where she was.

“She has to be close because she just dropped Wolf off, right?”

I remember thinking,
I hope I can find her
.

I was so naive.

Of course I was going to find her. I was running through the streets of Prague with producers and cameramen running alongside me. They even gave me directions.

“Turn here,” Scott said. “Turn there.”

After about twenty minutes of jogging, I found her in a tunnel, and she was legitimately surprised. “I was thinking of you all day!” she said, giving me a big kiss. “I missed you.”

We ducked into a pub right by her hotel and got to spend time just the two of us.

“This is perfect,” she said. “Just like you.”

At the end of the evening, the producers had planned that we say good night in that tunnel up the street. I kissed her there—in perhaps the most romantic setting imaginable—and slipped back into the hotel. The guys had no clue I was gone.

Our group date the next day, with Doug and Chris, was once again in an old dungeon. I was beginning to think the producers believed nothing said romance like historic torture chambers. When I saw her, Emily and I exchanged mischievous glances over our secret rendezvous before she took Doug off for their personal chat.

During their conversation, she decided to send Doug home without waiting for the rose ceremony. Chris and I were left hanging out in this freezing, damp, and dark medieval dungeon.

“What do you think is taking so long?” I asked.

What viewers don’t realize when they’re watching some of those dramatic dismissals is that it takes at least two hours to send someone packing. Emily had to talk to Doug, and then they had to film him leaving. Then
they had to film his reaction to leaving. When Emily finally returned to Chris and me at the end of the night, we were so glad to see her.

“One of these keys opens this door,” she said, holding two gigantic keys. “I’m going to spend time with whoever has that key.”

She took the two keys and handed them to us, and I was thrilled when my key unlocked the door. Once we got inside the room, she whispered, “That wasn’t luck. Of course I gave that key to you because I want to spend time with you.”

When she gave me the rose that evening, guaranteeing she’d be coming to my hometown to meet my parents, I knew her feelings for me were real. On that flight home, it began to dawn on me: I was starting to fall for Emily, and there was a real chance I could spend the rest of my life with her. I had alternating feelings of joy and a profound sobriety over it.

I might be a dad pretty soon!

I got as comfortable as I could in that airplane seat as I tried to sort out my feelings. The producers always made Emily and the bachelors take different flights, probably because they knew there’d be no way to keep us all separated on the same flight. We had to stay separated because the producers wanted to make sure all interaction was on film. Since the cameras weren’t rolling, we couldn’t get near each other.

I wondered where Emily was and whether she was thinking of me. When we reached cruising altitude, I put down my tray table and started writing a letter to the little person who might one day be my daughter.

Dear Ricki,

I’m writing you this letter before ever meeting you. I think it’s important that I tell you a few things that I hope you’ll never forget. You may not fully understand the true meaning of this letter until you’re older, but I feel compelled to share these things with you now.

I want you to know that I will always love you with all of my heart. God
has blessed me in so many wonderful ways, but bringing you into my life has to be at the top.

It’s important to remember that I’ll never try to replace your father. But please don’t ever forget that you will forever be my daughter. I hope to shower you with the kind of unconditional love my dad has always shown me and I promise to thank God for the chance to do so. It’s just as important that you understand something else as well. I’m so in love with your mom.

I hope to honor you by loving your mom with every ounce of my being. Your mom makes me so very happy, and I plan on spending the rest of my life doing the same for her. The thought of spending the rest of my life with you and your mom overwhelms my heart with joy.

The last thing I want you to remember is that I’m always here to protect you and your mom and I’m always going to be here for you.

Love always,

Sean

Before this show, I hadn’t given any thought to suddenly being a dad. As the international flight droned on and on, I drifted off to sleep—my mind filled with images of having my own instant family.

seven

THE
L
WORD

“I’m going to take Emily to my family’s ranch in Utah,” Jef told me. I knew his parents were loaded, and their wealth was more than evident during his hometown visit. He escorted Emily around in a dune buggy on his parents’ property, which included its own shooting range, their private lake, and hundreds of acres of natural beauty.

Oh no
, I thought.
I’ve got my work cut out for me
.

“I’m gonna take her to the racetrack and take her in my two-seater Formula 1 racecar,” Arie told me.

What am I gonna do?
I thought as I tried to figure out my hometown date.
How can I compete with that?

I decided to play it straight. Honestly, my life wasn’t that elaborate, so I decided to show her what I did on a typical Saturday. When the producers’ vehicle pulled up in Dallas, I was already at the park with Lola and Ellie. I never have my dogs on a leash, so they ran up to greet her.

“It’s just us hanging out at the park at the lake today,” I said, hoping she enjoyed being outdoors and with nature as much as I did. I couldn’t imagine a wife who didn’t enjoy the fresh air of nature. “I hope that’s all right.”

“This is just what I wanted,” she said.

She leaned down and greeted Lola and Ellie, who didn’t jump on her and walked without a leash by our sides to the picnic blanket the producers had set up overlooking the lake.

“Even your dogs are perfect.”

Emily threw that word around so much that people started associating “perfect” with my name. I was surprised I came off that way. When I signed on to do the show, I had no idea how people were going to perceive me. I knew full well
The Bachelorette
producers could make me look bad, great, or crazy. I feared they would edit me to make me look a certain way to fit in to the narrative of the show.

I was glad that they had portrayed me so well—more than once, someone referred to me as a “genetic gift.” The truth is, however, I’m far from perfect, and I had a sinking feeling Emily was about to realize that during my hometown date. Like everyone else, I have insecurities. One of my greatest is that my family still treats me like a child. Another insecurity is that I’ve never fully reached the point of financial success I wanted so desperately. Plus, the sound of my mother’s pained voice when I admitted I was in Los Angeles at that first casting call still rang in my ears. How would she respond to having Emily in her home?

We settled down on the blanket for a conversation to set up the moment when Emily would meet my family. Here’s a confession: one of my biggest fears is sweating in situations in which it’s inappropriate to be sweating. On that day, the sun was hitting me just right, and I felt my face get red with heat.

“Are you hot?” I asked her.

“No, I’m fine,” she said. Of course, there’s that old saying that Southern ladies don’t sweat; they glisten. I felt as though Emily—ever the proper lady—was probably a “glistener.”

I, on the other hand, was sweating my tail off. I tried to ignore the sweat running down my back.

Usually, the producers tried to stay out of our dates, to let the conversations happen naturally. Thankfully, they didn’t often need to interject to spice things up. However, if the conversation started to lag, they might shoot out a suggestion for a topic of conversation. “Sean, why don’t you tell her about . . .” Or they might say, “Sean, didn’t you say something about a certain childhood drama?”