Page 96 of Unscripted

My chest tightened and it was suddenly hard to breathe as the words registered, and I realized exactly where this was going.

Oh no. Oh, please, no.

“Poppy,” Gemma said, and for an instant a look of apology flashed across her perfectly composed features, as though she really did feel bad for what she was about to ask and how it would blow up my existence here.

She carried on anyway.

“Were you previously engaged?”

42

It was the moment I had been dreading since agreeing to do the show. The one that I hoped I would be able to avoid; that I had told no one about.

My failed engagement was the reason I was here, the reason I had been so eager to get out of America, the reason I was desperate for any job that would make me money.

It was the direct center of the hurricane my life had become the last few months.

And now here it was, out in the open for everyone to know about.

I blinked and then blinked again, trying to get my brain to catch up with my current reality.

Gemma was still looking at me, waiting for an answer to her question. The audience, and even the production crew behind them, had gone utterly silent, collectively holding their breath in anticipation of what I would say next.

But my mind was blank, and a low humming was building in my ears. I couldn’t grasp what was going on and how, after keeping one secret under wraps for so long, it had finally been revealed.

I opened my mouth to say something, though I still wasn't sure what, when I felt a hand slip into mine.

Callum.

I looked over at him; at the face I had come to feel so much for. Something tightened in my gut, fear and anxiety battling for dominance. In a perfect world, he would have never found out. We could have gone about our time in here never having to talk about the one thing I hoped to keep hidden. Now, not only was that never going to happen, but the opportunity to tell him the truth myself had been taken away from us.

And yet Callum didn’t seem mad or upset. No, he just smiled at me, that reassuring grin of his, and squeezed my hand in support.

If I hadn’t already wanted to cry, that would have done it.

I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and turned back to Gemma.

“Yes, I was engaged for three months earlier this year. I called it off and moved to London for work. I haven’t been in touch with my ex since.”

That was more than I owed anyone, and all I was going to be saying about the matter on a show that was currently being broadcast, live, across the United Kingdom.

Gemma must have seen the determination on my face—or felt bad for me—because she stared at me for a weighted moment but didn’t ask any follow up questions. She simply turned toward the camera and began to wrap up the show.

“Well, we all have exes we wouldn’t want to come crawling out of the woodwork as soon as we got a bit of attention, so we can just leave it at that,” she said, giving her signature hosting smile straight down the lens. “That's all we’ve got time for tonight. Make sure to keep watching Bella Amore on your screens every night. See ya!”

She wiggled her fingers at the camera and held a smile until someone from beyond the wall of production lights called out, “And we’re clear!”

Everyone slumped down, letting out held breaths and relaxing at being off camera for a few moments.

Producers immediately flooded the makeshift stage in the villa’s driveway, ushering us all back into the house.

I turned to Callum. I needed to explain. Needed to tell him the truth, what really happened, and how it had led me here.

But we were being pulled apart, separated between girls and guys to debrief and record confessionals. It was all happening so fast, and I needed to get a grip on the situation. Needed to talk to him before I picked apart my past with anyone else.

“I need a smoke!” I yelled out, loud enough so Callum would hear me.

“Since when do you smoke?” Chiara asked me, as if I had lost my mind.