Page 118 of Unscripted

My countryside reprieve had been exactly what I needed. Now, I just had to get through the next twelve hours, and then I would be free to sort out my next move. I had no idea where I would go, no idea where I even wanted to be, and yet the vast unknown that was my future didn’t scare me in the way it had months ago.

What did set my stomach turning was the thought of finally seeing Callum. The hurt that was so sharp a week ago had since melted into a dull ache. I hadn’t even cried at all yesterday.

As the hired town car drove me closer and closer to the studio, all I had left was one lone emotion.

Anger.

I was mad at Callum. Despite what had happened with us in the end, no matter the misunderstanding and the hurt I know it caused him, when it all fell apart, he was nowhere to be found. It was his grand idea that I stuck by, and yet I hadn’t heard from him once since the news of our arrangement broke. Not an email or a text or a call. It had initially worried me, not hearing from him, and I spent a lot of time hoping he was okay.

But that worry quickly shifted, rolling into the annoyance that was now simmering just beneath the surface. All I could do was take a deep breath and try to calm the raging storm in my mind. It would do me no favors to blow up at him on live television. I wanted to simply get in, answer the questions I was asked, and get out.

I had to look out for myself.

My public image couldn’t afford to take another hit.

***

When I pulled up to the studio where the reunion was set to be filmed, I was met by Harry, standing inside the parking garage, just as he had been on my first day all those weeks ago. It was bittersweet to have him there at both the start and end of it all.

I gave him a big hug, and we walked into the studio. It was a hive of activity, and while most of the crew was busy running between green rooms and the stage, it would have been hard to miss the looks lobbed my way. Each PA I walked past, every producer or crew member hustling down the hallways, didn’t exactly stop and point at me but their double takes and prolonged stares were enough to get the point across: I would be the subject of the hour.

I knew that, of course, going into the day. Had anticipated it, even. How could Callum and I not be at the top of the docket when our relationship was, according to every news program I’d watched in the last two weeks, the biggest scandal in the show’s history?

So I simply smiled back at everyone. I knew these people. Most of them had been floating around the villa in one capacity or another all summer. I knew it wasn’t personal; that it wasn’t a dig on my character. They were all probably just wondering how we had gotten away with it for so long.

I wondered that sometimes, too.

Following Harry through the maze of hallways, I let out a sigh at the sight of my dressing room. There, at least, I could have a little bit of peace.

Throwing the door open, however, I was met with chaos. Ella and Chiara had been waiting inside, and upon seeing me standing in the doorway, they both shrieked, jumping up and engulfing me in a hug.

I held onto them, the two girls who had carried me through the ups and downs of the show. Before I knew it, we were all on the ground, clutching onto each other and chattering, tears brimming in our eyes. Well, maybe not in Ella’s, but she was on the ground with me, so I’d take that as an emotional victory.

Harry, sensing that this was a scene that wouldn’t be broken up anytime soon, quietly backed out of the room and closed the door.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried as soon as it was just us.

“It’s okay!” Chiara assured me.

“You’re a bloody mastermind, you know that?” was Ella’s response.

“I wanted to tell you guys, but it was just supposed to be one thing and then it snowballed into something else, and by the end I was so happy I didn’t even want to think of how it started.”

They nodded, holding my hands and rubbing my back as I proceeded to tell them everything. Each and every detail, from the very beginning in the studio’s hallway right up to getting in the car this morning. They sometimes chimed in with a question here or there, but for the most part they sat and listened, letting me talk. Letting me get it all off my chest.

“And you haven’t talked to Callum at all?” Chiara asked.

“Nope, no word from him,” I said, my stomach tightening at the thought.

“What a prick,” she said. I just nodded.

“I overheard from some of the producers earlier that no one has been able to get in touch with him,” Ella said.

“What?” I asked.

“Yup.” Ella nodded. “He’s MIA.”

Going missing didn’t seem like something Callum would do. Then again, I had only known him in the context of the show when we didn’t have a choice about where and when to be somewhere. Who knew how he behaved in the real world; maybe he was as selfish as I originally thought him to be.