“In a way, you were your own worst enemy.”
“I don’t know that I was worse than Jefferson, but yeah, it wasn’t great.”
The audience laughed gently at this.
“And the hardest part was, because I was believing these terrible things about myself, I wasn’t believing the men who genuinely wanted to get to know me. I wasn’t even giving them a chance.”
“You were in a pretty bad funk, and you had to pull yourself out of it.”
“That’s right.”
“And how did you do that?”
“How does anyone do anything? With help! My best friend, Marin, came to set pretty early on, that was a real game changer for me. Then we went to Ohio, and I got to be with my family, which was great.”
“That was also the week you started getting closer with Wyatt,” Johnny pointed out.
“Yes, absolutely,” Bea agreed. “Wyatt and Sam in particular were so good to me in helping me believe that I deserved more than to shut myself away from the possibility of finding love.”
“And Asher?” Johnny urged.
“Things were more complex with Asher—and with Luc. I had beautiful moments with both of them, and tough ones too.”
“Luc has been pegged as the villain of your season—maybe one of the worst villains in the history of Main Squeeze. But it sounds like you don’t see him that way?”
“I don’t,” Bea said. “I can’t. It’s not that simple for me. Luc hurt me badly, but he also made me feel beautiful when none of the other men could. He was the first man in my life to show me how that felt.”
“Well, you’re about to have a chance to tell him exactly what you think about him—let’s welcome Luc to the show!”
A spotlight illuminated Luc as he made his way toward the stage in tight jeans and a strategically undone black button-down, his hair long enough now to be pulled back in a loose little ponytail. The audience reaction was mixed—they cheered for him like they knew they shouldn’t, but they just couldn’t help themselves. Bea understood exactly how they felt.
“Bea.” He kissed her cheek, and he smelled the same—salt and smoke. “It is good to see you.”
“You as well,” she said politely.
“The last time we saw you two together was at that unforgettable kiss-off ceremony in Amboise. Have you communicated since then?” Johnny asked.
They both shook their heads—they hadn’t.
“The public didn’t find out until after the episode had aired that Luc was having an affair with a producer of this show. But Bea, did you know? Is that the reason Luc went home that day?”
“I did know,” Bea answered.
“Of course she knew,” Luc added. “She saw us herself.”
This prompted a smattering of gasps from the audience, and Bea shook her head—even now, Luc always had to cause drama.
“Well.” Johnny’s eyes widened. “That’s news! Bea, is this true?”
“Yes,” Bea admitted. “That morning, I walked in on them.”
“How did you feel when that happened?”
“You know, it was tough, to have that happen within hours of spending the night with Luc, something which was very meaningful to me—and still is.”
“Because he was the first person you’d been with since Ray?”
Bea sighed. If America was going to know the truth about her sex life, they might as well know all of it. “He’s still the only person I’ve been with since Ray.”
Concerned murmurs from the audience—poor Bea!
“Do you regret your decision to spend the night with him?”
“No, not at all,” Bea said forcefully. “Luc and I have incredible chemistry, and we acted on it. I always doubted whether we could make a relationship work outside the confines of the show, and I know now I was right—and in that way, Luc helped me figure out that even though being with him was so exciting, I don’t have to settle for a relationship that isn’t fully what I want. Do I wish we’d been able to part on better terms? Of course. But I don’t hold a grudge. On the whole, Luc was really good to me, really genuine, and a really important part of my journey on this show.”
“Luc, are you surprised to hear this?”
“Yes, I am very surprised.” He turned to Bea. “I thought you were furious with me.”
“I was furious with you, then. I mean, could you not have waited twenty-four hours after sleeping with me to sleep with someone else?”
Luc grinned sheepishly, eliciting an “Oh, you are bad!” from a woman in the audience.
“Yes, Luc is very bad,” Johnny teased, “and that’s why we think he’ll be very good in the Main Squeeze Mansion. What do you say, Luc? Will you join us for another round this summer?”
“Ah yes, and why not?” Luc grinned, clearly thrilled to be featured on a Main Squeeze spin-off. Johnny took them to commercial break, and as Bea rose to give Luc a polite hug goodbye, he murmured in her ear.
“I am leaving my phone number with Alison for you. Call me anytime you like, yes?”
Bea smiled. “Don’t hold your breath.”
He laughed as he pulled away, his breath tickling her ear.
“We were good together, no? Goodbye, my Bea.”
He kissed her cheek and made his way offstage, leaving room for the next guest. As he walked toward her, Bea prepared herself for a far less pleasant interaction.
“Hey,” Ray said curtly as he sat down beside Bea. He was stunningly handsome as ever, but he looked a little worn, a little gaunt. He refused to make eye contact, and before they could say anything more to each other, a producer was counting them in, and they were back on live TV.
“Welcome back,” Johnny said smoothly. “Our next guest is a man who Bea knows well, but who the rest of us just met recently. Ray, welcome to the studio.”
“Thanks,” Ray said flatly. Bea wondered what sort of contract he’d signed—she couldn’t imagine why he’d agreed to do this.
“First off, Bea, same question I asked Luc—have you two been in touch since the show finished filming?”
“No,” Bea said at the same moment Ray said, “Yes.”
“Well, this is interesting. Ray, you’ve contacted Bea?”
“Yes, I’ve texted and emailed her.”
“Bea, have you seen those messages?”
“No, um. After the show finished filming, I reached out to Sarah, Ray’s ex-fiancée, to apologize for my behavior, and for contributing to a situation that must have been really painful for her on a lot of levels. I never heard back from her—not that I expected to, she certainly doesn’t owe me anything—but sending her that note really solidified for me that it would be best for everyone if Ray and I sever ties for good. So I blocked his phone number and set up a filter to send any emails from him straight to spam.”
“You did?” Ray looked genuinely hurt.
“Ray, I can’t keep doing this with you. It’s been too many years. I need to move on.”
“But you’re the one who rejected me,” he said, almost whining. Bea had to remind herself not to feel sorry for him.
“You’re not good for me, Ray.” She forced the bitter words out of her mouth. “You say you didn’t really know how you felt about me when we lived in L.A., but you knew well enough to get drunk and kiss me. And you knew well enough to sleep with me when you were engaged to someone else.”
“Then why did you kiss me in Paris? Why did you make me think we could be together?”
“I was reeling. I was so hurt by Luc and Asher, and there you were, showing up to declare your love for me like I’d always dreamed you would. I wanted to believe that maybe after everything, we could be each other’s happy ending. Except you were still the same person who spent all those years hurting me. The same person who wasn’t brave enough to date me when you could have, when you wanted to, because you couldn’t picture getting serious with someone who looked like me.”
“But I got over that!” Ray protested. “I went on television to tell
the whole world I love you—doesn’t that count for something?”
“My body isn’t something you ‘get over,’” Bea said coolly. “I have no intention of devoting the rest of my life to a man who’s ashamed of me.”
“I know I’ve given you reason not to trust me,” Ray pleaded. “But Bea, I promise, I won’t hurt you again.”
“I know you won’t.” Bea’s tone was sad but resolute. “Because I’m not going to let you. All these years, you put your needs above mine—which is exactly what you did when you showed up in Paris, by the way—and I couldn’t see it, because I idealized you as the perfect man. But I see who you are now, Ray. And I know that I deserve better.”
The audience applauded heartily, and Johnny took them to commercial. A sound guy came to collect Ray’s mic, but Ray told him to hold on just one second before turning back to Bea.
“So that’s it?” he demanded. “We’re just never going to speak again?”
“Yeah, Ray. I think that’s it.” Bea fought to maintain composure as Ray’s face crinkled and cracked.
“We love each other. I know we do.”
“Maybe,” she whispered. “But I want more than you can give me.”
The sound guy tugged on Ray’s arm, and he turned to go—watching him leave was awful. Bea took a deep breath, and Alison swooped in for one last touch-up, giving her hair an unnecessary zhuzh.
“You’re doing great,” she whispered. “Keep going.”
Bea nodded, and when the show started back up and Johnny welcomed Sam to the stage, it all felt so much easier.
“Hey, beautiful.” Sam hugged Bea warmly, and seeing him was pure joy, same as always.
“God, I was an idiot to let you go.” She smiled, then turned to the audience. “Wasn’t I? Wasn’t I just the worst to turn him down?”
“YES!” came the resounding cheer from the crowd, and everyone laughed together.
“Why did you, then?” Johnny pressed. “I know for me, and for a lot of the audience, it came as a real shock. You and Sam seemed like a perfect couple.”
“I hope it’s clear to everyone that I think Sam is an absolutely amazing man, and he was nothing but wonderful to me. And in some ways, that’s why I knew we weren’t meant to be together.”
“That sounds a little twisted.” Sam made a face at Bea.
“Ha, I know, my mother would be screaming about my tendency to self-sabotage, but that’s not what I mean. It’s more that—there was something not quite real about our relationship. We had a great rapport, great chemistry, but we never really argued or had any conflict, and I think that’s because we never connected at that serious a level. So for me, at the end of the show, the question was what would happen if we took away the fantasy of Main Squeeze, all the travel and limos and hot-air balloons.”
“To be real clear, I could have lived without the hot-air balloons.”
Bea laughed. “See? Dating Sam, that seemed like a perfect fantasy. But in the end, I finally had to be honest with myself that we weren’t right for each other in reality. I couldn’t shake the idea that I was helping Sam on his journey to meet his future wife, but that that person wasn’t me.”
“Sam, do you agree with that assessment?”
“You know, I’m not going to lie, I was hurt when Bea turned me down. She’s the first woman I ever really loved, and that’s going to stick with me a long time. But ultimately, I do think she made the right decision for both of us, and I know we both care for each other and wish each other the best.”
“Do you think you’re ready to search for love again?” Johnny raised an eyebrow.
“You know what?” Sam grinned. “I think I just might be.”
“On that note, I hear you have some news, is that right, Sam?”
“For the first time in history,” he hammed, his voice low and dramatic, “your next Main Squeeze is going to have a mustache.”
The crowd cheered, and Bea hugged Sam—she couldn’t have imagined a better pick for the next Main Squeeze.
“You know I’m gonna be coming to you for advice,” he said to Bea.
“Anytime!” she effused, praying silently that this didn’t mean she’d have to be on the show again next season.
“And I want to say one thing publicly, while I have the chance,” he went on after the applause had died down. “I think it’s great that Bea broke some new ground on this show, and I know I’m doing the same thing by being the first Black man to be the Main Squeeze. But I don’t want us to go backward on body diversity—I want the women I meet to represent a range of sizes, and I’m going to be really upset if the producers don’t come through for me on that.”
Predictably, the audience lost their minds at this, clapping and cheering. It was a great moment, and Bea was happy to end the night on a high note—but Johnny told her they still had one more segment to film after Sam left the stage.
“Bea,” he said, “I’m sorry if this is tough, but I have to ask: Are you disappointed you didn’t find love on your journey?”
“Definitely.” Bea nodded. “It took me a long time to believe—truly believe—that it was even possible for me to find a lasting relationship on a show like this one, so of course I’m disappointed things didn’t turn out the way I pictured. But you know, in a way, what happened was even better.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“If you had come to me the week before we started filming and told me that Ray was going to leave his fiancée for me, I would have cried for joy. I would have run to him so fast—and it would have been a terrible decision.”
“So your happy ending is getting over your feelings for Ray?”
“That’s part of it.” Bea considered. “But it’s more than that. I’ve told myself for so many years that I’m afraid of men rejecting me for the way I look, of them refusing to look past my size. But I was wrong—I don’t need a man to look past my size. I need someone who’ll see me and love me exactly as I am. For all its flaws, this show made me believe that that’s possible.”
“You’re not the only one who thinks so,” Johnny said. “We talked earlier about the people who weren’t so nice about you being on this show. But I hear you also received a lot of support from the plus-size community?”
“Yes!” Bea chirped. “That’s been one of the best parts of this whole experience. So many women and girls have shared their stories with me, have told me about all these acts of bravery they’ve been inspired to take in their own lives.”
“Any favorites?”
“Oh gosh.” Bea grinned, thinking back on all the terrific letters. “One girl told me that she was nervous to put her name in to be considered for prom court, but then she saw me on TV.”
“And did she become prom queen?”
“No. She decided to run for class president instead.”
The audience broke out in a thunderous ovation, and Bea beamed.
“Well,” Johnny said, “we have a surprise for you, Bea.”
“Uh-oh,” Bea’s response was involuntary, and the audience laughed good-naturedly.
“As you know, a lot of these letters came to us at Main Squeeze, and we passed them on to you. We loved the letters as much as you did, and we wanted to celebrate the women who wrote them. Can we get the lights up on the studio audience?”
On Johnny’s cue, the lighting in the studio changed dramatically: The hot lights on the stage dimmed, the house lights came up, and for the first time, Bea was actually able to see the audience.
Every single woman in the crowd was plus-size. And they were rising to their feet to applaud.
“What? What is this?” Bea grabbed Johnny’s hand, and to her great surprise, he held it tightly, keeping her steady as the tears streamed down her face.
“Every member of the audience is a woman who wrote to you, Bea,” Johnny explained. “We thought you deserved a chance to meet, live and in person, some of the many people who see themselves in you.”
“I can’t believe I final
ly liked a twist on Main Squeeze,” Bea blurted, and everyone laughed and cheered some more.
“I hope you won’t mind, but we have just one more.” Johnny guided Bea back to the couch as the studio lights returned to normal. “I’m guessing you noticed that one man from your Main Squeeze journey hasn’t made an appearance tonight?”
Bea’s pulse sped up—was he here after all? She looked wildly toward the stage door, thinking of how good it would feel to hold him, to tell him that, after all of this, he was the only one she wanted.
“I’m sorry to tell you that Asher declined our invitation to be here.”
“Oh.” Bea’s voice caught in her throat, and she couldn’t say anything more.
“But we do have a surprise guest—a certain celebrity who’s made it quite public that he’s interested in making your acquaintance. From the new film Lieutenant Luxembourg: Blast from the Past, please welcome Chris Evans!”
As a movie star made his way to the stage to give her a friendly hug hello, Bea swallowed her hurt over Asher and tried to stay in the moment, to marvel at the absurdity of her life. To think that less than a year ago, she was lying in bed, counting the days until Ray would be visiting for the Fourth of July, and now here she was, on live television, exchanging niceties with a Hollywood superhero because some publicist or executive had thought it would help sell movie tickets.
Or maybe, Bea stopped to remind herself, he actually was interested in dating her. As she gazed into his dreamy blue eyes, she couldn’t rule it out completely.
Three thousand miles away, in a cozy rental house utterly buried in mess and half-packed moving boxes, Gwen and Linus sat rapt in front of the TV.
“Dad!” Linus screamed. “Will you please come in here for one minute?? It’s IMPORTANT.”
Asher rushed in from the kitchen, packing tape still in hand.
“What is it, buddy? Is everything okay?”
“We need you to see something,” Gwen said matter-of-factly, but when Asher saw whose face was on the TV, he turned quickly on his heel.
“Come on, guys, we’ve been through this. No Main Squeeze stuff, okay?”
One To Watch: this summer's must-read romcom to fill the Love Island-shaped hole in your life Page 35