Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because of the plunging-neckline fashion.
There’s no way around it: Last night’s episode of The Bachelor marked a sad, sad time in our quiet, little world of Seinne Scenes. But before we get into the melancholy details of an awkward-silence dinner that ended in Seinne’s ultimate demise on the show, let’s first start from the beginning, the best place to figure out where it all went wrong.
The opening scenes were understandably weepy, filled with all the usual histrionics you’d expect as The Bachelor nears its final show.
But amid the drama onscreen emerged Seinne, bright-eyed in Italy, ready for love.
“It’s a very romantic place,” she says about the bucolic, rolling-hills beauty of Tuscany. “I think it’s a great place to grow a connection and it’s the last week before hometowns so I’m really looking forward to just having uninterrupted time with Arie.”
As luck would have it, Seinne received the last of three one-on-one dates, and uninterrupted time came in the form of foraging through a forest for truffles with Arie, an Italian farmer and some adorable puppies by her side.
“I do dig Seinne but can I dig deep enough?” Arie asks the camera with dead-pan delivery, giving no awareness of the terrible pun just made. “Hopefully today I can see where it goes.”
After finding several truffles, the gang goes back to the farmer’s house, a gorgeous little countryside oasis dappled in sunlight and shadows from a nearby willow tree.
Seinne is given an apron and for whatever reason she’s separated from Arie, left alone on the back porch to be grilled by the farmer’s family while he makes heart-shaped pizza in a small kitchen inside.
“I’ve been to Italy before but I’ve never had a traditional Italian experience with food and family and love,” she says poetically, nostalgically and with an earnest and forthright tone. She’s serious about this experience and taking everything in. “It makes me feel like I can open up,” Seinnec adds. “I really feel like I need that.”
Cut to Arie: “I used to work in a pizza place when I was young.”
There are a few more asides where Seinne explains how moved she is to be among a family that’s so open and honest about the idea of love, explaining that it’s important because “I want that for myself.”
They eat pizza and pasta with those earlier-dug truffles (carbs don’t count in Tuscany, FYI), then they’re asked to kiss and they do.
It’s a sweet moment and so far, so good.
Cut to the sun setting. The clouds are light pink and streaked across an Italian, mountain-capped sky.
Again, so far so good.
Arie and Seinne sit at a small table, eating (again?) and discussing the current status of their relationship.
“Are you nervous about home towns?” He asks her.
“I’m nervous about what it means taking things to the next step,” she says. “I haven’t been in a relationship where I’ve really been thinking about the future and yeah, it’s pushing me to different places.”
Understandable, logical, but for Arie, problematic. Suddenly and without warning, the fluffy-cloud mood shifts, the air between them stiffens.
“There’s a lot of weight of today,” Arie says.
Somewhere in the distance, a tinny bell rings. It’s an ominous sound and one that would never have been left in post-production if this couple were meant for a happily ever after … or even a hometown episode.
“I want to be honest with you, Arie.”
He says nothing, staring at the rose between them.
“You’re making me nervous, Arie.”
Again the bell rings.
“I’m going to put my jacket on,” Seinne says.
Finally, Arie speaks, fumbling through his ill-formed logic about why he’s letting Seinne go—“I’m just following my heart”—and walks her out to an awaiting black SUV. He tells her he’s not sure why he’s saying goodbye and yet he is.
It’s dark outside now, shadowy. Seinne gets in the car. “I was blindsided because I felt like today went really well,” she says once inside, eyes glistening with a few tears.
“I realize it’s not easy for me to express my feelings,” she explains. “I feel like I’m really trying and I think we could have gotten there but I guess for him it didn’t feel like it was fast enough.”
As she talks about the need to move faster, the SUV careens slowly down the street, and in that contrasting moment, Seinne Fleming disappears from our screens.
To Seinne, thank you. You are as kind as you appear on TV. We crossed paths weeks before the show, before this magazine even really launched, and now, even with America’s collective love and major media sites behind you, you’re still just as supportive as when ours was one of the first publications to print your name. Yes, The Bachelor may be over for you but, as you so wisely wrote in your farewell Instagram post, it’s so clear this is just the beginning.