Page 122 of Unscripted

He pressed on. “I was a prick, and I behaved horribly. It . . . ” He trailed off, his voice breaking for a moment, before he exhaled through his nose and kept going. “It hurt me seeing you with your ex, and I shut down. It felt like history repeating itself, like I was being cheated on again, and I sort of lost my mind, if I’m being honest.”

He took a step in my direction, as though testing the waters.

I didn’t move away.

“I had all these feelings that I thought you felt too but when I saw you and him together, I just couldn’t handle it. It’s why I was such a dick throughout the whole press tour. I didn’t want to talk to you because I couldn’t bear to hear that you didn’t feel the same. Even when you told me it didn’t mean anything, I was buried so deep in my own head I couldn’t believe you could really mean it.”

My heart was racing as he took another step toward me.

“It was all me, all my own abandonment issues kicking up. I couldn’t separate what had happened to me in the past from what was happening in the present. So, I did what I know best, and I pushed you away. I thought it would be easier that way, to just cut it off.”

Another step and he was even closer.

“I should have been honest with you and told you I was hurt. That it scared me how much I was affected by seeing him kiss you.”

One more step and he was standing right in front of me, so close that I could smell his familiar scent.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words almost a whisper. “I’m so sorry. You deserve more than the way I acted. I want—”

His voice caught in his throat, as though his body was overwhelmed by just how vulnerable he was being. He let out a breath and then pressed on anyway. “I meant what I said out there. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I want to be better. For you.”

We stood there, separated by only a few inches, and I looked up into his eyes and saw it, clear as day. His regret and sincerity and fear and just how much he really did care for me. It was all there, on display.

I wanted to give in to the urge to wrap my arms around him, to tell him I understood, but there was something else we needed to address. One more hurt I had to bring up.

“You didn’t call,” I said. “After the news broke about us and our deal. I was all alone, hiding away from everyone, and you didn’t call.”

Regret and then, improbably, the hint of a smile crossed his face. I was about to tell him he could shove that smile up his ass, but he cut me off by speaking first. “I didn’t know.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know that our argument leaked until this morning.”

“How is that even possible?”

My heart was racing even faster.

“After that last appearance, when the car dropped you off and you nearly leveled me with your final goodbye, I needed to get out. It was like my body knew what I was doing was wrong, that I was making a massive mistake. I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t sleep a wink. So the next morning I drove out to the country, to these woods I used to camp in as a kid, turned my phone off and hid from the world.”

He was telling the truth. I could see it written all over his face. Could feel the sincerity in his words as he told me everything.

“I thought it would help, that I would somehow be able to get over you by simply ignoring everything, but I felt like proper shit the whole time. I realized I had fucked up days ago but was too scared to reach out. Then I woke up this morning and knew I had to try. That I had to call and at least hope that you’d hear me out.”

I might have been crying. I couldn’t tell; I was so fixated on what he was saying.

“Let me tell you, it was quite the shock when I turned on my phone and saw what had been happening.”

“It’s a lot,” I said.

“It is.” He nodded in reply.

We stood there then, with it all out on the table. I could hear Ben and Harry knocking on the door, telling us we needed to open up and get back to set. But the show felt small now, any obligations we had to it not nearly as important as what was happening between us.

Callum didn’t blink twice at the disturbance. Instead, he reached out for my hands, grabbing them in his and lacing his fingers through mine.

“I like you, Poppy. I really like you. And I know I messed this up pretty bad, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to spend a very long time making it up to you.”

Here it was: my decision to make.