Page 100 of Unscripted

It was in this wonderful head space where I now found myself; simply glad to be here, happy that I had said “yes” to the opportunity all those weeks ago.

***

Tuesday night there was a dumping.

Gemma sashayed her way in, read out the results, and swiftly took her leave. It was all quite simple, really, as far as dumpings went. Samantha and Louis were voted the least compatible match, so their time in the villa came to an end. It was sad, especially knowing it was the beginning of more goodbyes I knew were right around the corner.

The villa was rather quiet the next day. There was a certain fragility that had come over the place. As if everyone was aware the clock was ticking down, and soon it would all be over.

That evening’s cocktail party, however, relit the spark that had been missing all day. When we walked out to the garden, a row of picnic baskets was set up on the kitchen counter.

“Bellas, grab the basket with your name on it and spread out around the garden. Do not open your baskets until instructed to do so,” a producer’s voice rang out across the yard.

This was new, not something I had seen done on other seasons, so I was excited to see what would happen next.

Callum and I grabbed our basket and settled down on the lawn by the pool’s edge. He snagged the card off the top of the basket and read it aloud. “Poppy and Callum,” he said, putting on a ridiculously fancy accent. “You will be going on your final fantasy date tomorrow. In this basket are clues as to where you are headed. Cheers!”

“A date?” I exclaimed.

“A date!” he exclaimed back.

When the producers called out the okay, we opened the basket and started pulling out items from inside: a snorkel, fins, an assortment of plastic toy fish.

“I've always wanted to go snorkeling!” I told him.

Callum smiled over at me, and he looked so sincere, so ridiculously cute, that I couldn’t help it; I wrapped my arms around him and knocked him over to the ground. He laughed and rolled us around until he was the one on top of me.

Staring up at him, something warm and solid hummed out into my veins and coursed through my body.

“You’re spectacular, Pop,” Callum said softly as his hand caressed the side of my face.

And then he kissed me, and it was so gentle and so caring that it took my breath away.

When we pulled apart, he kept looking at me with that heated gaze of his. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else,” he said.

“Me either,” I replied, my words barely a whisper but their meaning strong and true.

Laying there, wrapped up in each other on the grass under the hot night sky, it felt like the things I had been missing in life had finally been found. At long last, the pieces were clicking into place.

I never wanted it to end.

44

Our fantasy date was just as advertised: a total fantasy.

From a production standpoint it made total sense; the final dates needed not only to be outrageous but look like the ultimate dream. A nice dinner would simply not do.

And so, each match’s final date was a varying degree of over the top.

Ella and Liam went on a helicopter tour around the island.

Olivia and Tom went skydiving.

Chiara and Alfie spent the day on a mega yacht.

Molly and James did a bit of cave spelunking.

When it came time for our date, Callum and I spent the day jumping off a catamaran, snorkeling along the coast, and basking in the sun on a private beach. It was perfect, the best date ever.