You stood in the middle of your living room, phone still in hand, staring at your sister like she’d grown two heads.

“You did what?”

Sara didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. In fact, she had the nerve to look proud of herself. “I signed you up for The Bachelor,” she said brightly, like this was something to be celebrated. “And you got in! Can you believe it?! You leave next week!”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you actually insane? That’s—Sara, that’s a reality dating show. I am not fighting 25 other girls over one guy like we’re in a gladiator pit wearing cocktail dresses!”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that dramatic,” she said, even though both of you had seen every season and absolutely knew it was. “Besides… this could be good for you.”

You crossed your arms. “Good for me? You think me losing my dignity on national television is good for me?”

“No,” she said, finally sobering just a bit. “I think you deserve something good, something big and unexpected. You haven’t exactly had the best luck with men, and you never give anyone a real chance anymore. This is at least… something different.”

You wanted to argue. You really did. But the producer had already called. The ticket was already booked. The contract had been emailed to you. And despite all your panic, there was something deep down that wondered… what if?

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But if I get into a screaming match with someone named Madison over a hot tub reservation, I’m blaming you.”

Sara just grinned.

⸻

You didn’t find out who the bachelor was until the limo ride to the mansion. The producer had smirked and handed you the official press release just before the cameras started rolling. You unfolded it and scanned the name.

Robert Irwin.

You blinked. Then blinked again. “You’re kidding.”

Nope. It was him. That Robert Irwin. Wildlife warrior. Crocodile whisperer. Sweet, down-to-earth Aussie who somehow managed to be both rugged and ridiculously charming. You remembered watching his interviews, how he spoke about wanting a love like his parents, about keeping his heart open despite the spotlight. And you remembered his joking interview with Whitney after Dancing With the Stars where he laughed off ever doing The Bachelor. Whitney had practically threatened him not to. She’d said it was a circus.

Apparently, he changed his mind.

You sat back in the limo seat, heart pounding now—not from nerves over the show, but because the stakes just changed. You weren’t some random girl on a random season.

You were walking into Robert Irwin’s season.

And even though you told yourself there was no way you’d stand out among 25 women—gorgeous, bold, dramatic, show-ready women—there was a flicker of something you hadn’t felt in a long time:

Hope.

Just maybe… this wouldn’t be a disaster after all.