28. 28
Ella and I hadn’t been close since we entered the villa. Her brusque tone and the not-so-subtle digs she would mutter under her breath had initially rubbed me the wrong way, so I steered clear of trying to get to know her. Now, though, I couldn’t have been more grateful for her presence.
She didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions about Callum or what brought me to tears.
Instead, she simply made me a cup of tea.
“This always helps whenever I’m not feeling great,” she said with a small smile that suggested she’d been in a similar situation before.
It was the exact kindness I needed. I didn’t want to talk about Callum anymore. I didn’t even want to think about him, or us, or what I was going to do now that I clearly needed to find a new match.
I wouldn’t be able to avoid what was going on forever, though, and I was called into the Love Shack soon after finishing my tea.
I’m sure I was a sight, eyes red from crying and still in a bikini.
As I entered the confessional room, Harry immediately beelined for me, wrapping his arms around me and enveloping me in a hug.
I let myself absorb his warmth, the caring embrace of a friend.
Harry covered my mic with his hand and said in a low voice the camera wouldn’t be able to pick up, “Don’t worry, this will be quick.”
I nodded at him, mouthing a “thank you”, and took a seat.
Not waiting for him to ask any questions, I launched into what I was feeling. I wanted to get it over with and knew what the producers needed from me. I was the odd man out in a love triangle. I’d seen it happen on the show before. I knew how it went.
I didn’t even need to play up anything. Didn’t need to force the tear that fell. The sting of rejection and the underlying hurt it caused were all real.
Harry must have been feeling particularly bad for me because when my interview was over, he let me go to the glam room instead of back outside. I was thrilled, finally able to have a moment to myself.
Sitting in the quiet of the empty room, I felt at ease for the first time in days. I knew I was still on camera, but to be otherwise alone while I sorted out my feelings was a luxury I hadn’t realized I was in desperate need of.
The situation with Callum was not great.
There was no taking back our last conversation; we couldn’t undo the tension that had developed between us over the past few days.
The worst-case scenario had happened. He picked another girl over me, destabilizing my place in the villa.
All I could do now was decide how I was going to move forward. What was I going to do next?
I was still thinking about my next move when the rest of the girls began shuffling in to get ready for the evening.
Sara was, yet again, being particularly horrible.
“Callum and I had the best chat today,” she blabbered away. “We—”
She was abruptly cut off by Ella standing up and leaning over her vanity to look her square in the eyes.
“Sara, shut up about Callum. No one wants to hear it,” Ella said, giving her a glare that would have frozen me over on the spot.
When Ella sat back down at her vanity, I caught her eye and mouthed “Thank you.”
She simply nodded in reply, which I took as Ella-speak for, “You’re welcome. We’re friends now.”
Once everyone finished their glam, we lined up to head into the garden, and Chiara shuffled over toward me, grabbing my hand and holding it in hers.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you today,” she said.
Chiara had been dealing with her own share of drama over the past few days. Adam had ignored her yesterday and spent the day canoodling on the daybeds with Amy. Chi came out of the confessional mid-afternoon with red, puffy eyes.
“I’m so sorry too, about everything with you, and Adam, and Hugh,” I replied, feeling just as bad for not being a better friend.
“It’s okay. I told Adam today that we were better off as friends, and I’m glad I did. I really like Hugh, and it’s not fair for me to be one foot in, one foot out with him just because I was matched with Adam first,” she said. She seemed more solid, like the weight of deciding had been lifted.
I wished I were feeling the same.
We remained holding hands as the night began, and we walked out to the garden, clutching each other for strength and solidarity. If I hadn’t been so distracted by both my problems and Chiara’s, I likely would have realized something was amiss sooner.
It took an extra thirty seconds for my brain to catch up to what my eyes were seeing. What normally awaited—the boys standing around a table, waiting with our drinks for the evening—was nowhere to be found.
Instead, the guys were seated around the fire pit and, standing in the middle of the deck, facing us with a huge grin on her face, was Gemma Row.
My heart flopped over itself, and my stomach dropped. I squeezed Chiara’s hand even tighter.
Gemma was only ever here if we were about to rematch or if someone was going home.
This is it, I thought as I lined up with the rest of the girls to face the boys. This is the end of Callum and me, and likely the end of my time in the villa.
I knew how this worked—there was only ever one winner and one loser in a love triangle. It didn’t take hours of Bella Amore research to know what being the loser in that scenario meant for my place in the villa.
After all that worry about being sent home, and all the work to avoid it, here I was, on the cusp of it actually happening.
I took a deep breath and tried to dispel the sickening nausea rolling around in my gut.
Callum’s decision wasn’t something I could control anymore, but I could handle how I dealt with it, and if there was one thing I was certain of in this moment, it was that I refused to be weepy for one second longer.
I threw my shoulders back and straightened my spine.
I could get through one last Matching Ceremony without coming apart at the seams.
“Good evening, ladies,” Gemma said, smiling and looking stunning in a neon green mini dress with rhinestone fringe along the edges. She was probably the only person in the world who could wear something like that and remain impossibly chic.
“The cocktail party looks a bit different, doesn’t it?” she laughed.
None of the girls laughed with her.
“Tonight,” she continued, undeterred by the silence, “there will be a Matching Ceremony, and the boys will get to choose who they want to be matched with.”
She turned to the guys, giving them a dramatic once over.
“Boys, have you been having fun getting to know the two new girls?”
They all nodded at her.
“Any connections standing out?” she asked.
Adam immediately spoke up. “Yeah, I’ve had some good chats with one girl in particular,” he said, smiling at Amy.
Something in his smug tone rubbed me the wrong way, and I was glad that Chiara had chosen Hugh over him.
“Great. Well Adam, since you’re so vocal about your new connection, why don’t you start us off,” Gemma said as she gestured for him to stand.
“The girl I want to match with is Amy,” Adam said, smirking as Amy walked over to him.
I squeezed Chiara’s hand again and caught her eye.
“It’s fine,” she mouthed.
Liam was next to pick, and he chose Ella. I had paid little attention to the two of them so far, but the way that Ella lingered when she kissed him on the cheek had me wondering if there was something deeper there than I realized.
Next was Hugh, and he chose Chiara. I was happy for my friend. She deserved to be with a guy that really liked her.
“Next up,” Gemma continued, “Callum. Who would you like to match with?”
Callum stood.
This is it.
We would officially be done in a matter of moments. Something heavy pressed down on my chest as I waited for him to announce that he was choosing Sara.
I looked up at the stars above, over to the shrubs lining the garden walls and then down at my shoes; anywhere but at Callum. I didn’t think I could face him when he broke our deal.
“The girl I want to match with is . . . ” he said, his sentence drifting off.
He paused for a long while. So long that I couldn’t help it and lifted my gaze to him.
He was staring into the fire pit’s flames, clearly lost in his own thoughts. Why hadn’t he chosen yet?
Then he looked up and, to my surprise, at me. Is he really going to look at me when he says her name? When he leaves me single, stamping my one-way ticket out of here?
Suddenly, it was impossible to look away from him. I wanted him to see it—the look in my eyes when he sent me home.
“I want to match with,” he repeated.
We were still staring at each other. Time stretched on, long and silent and still.
And then, he spoke again.
“Poppy.”
***
I stood, rooted to the spot, and continued to stare across the fire pit at Callum. Somewhere in my brain I was aware of our castmates clapping, of Gemma gesturing between the two of us, of Sara scoffing and crossing her arms in annoyance.
I knew those things were happening around me, and yet I couldn’t click back into reality; couldn’t focus on anything outside of Callum as we continued to stare at each other.
I wasn’t going home. I was safe, at least for another few days.
The panic I had been trying to keep at bay melted into pure exhaustion. I felt its weight as I stood there, still looking across at Callum.
There was a long road ahead of us to navigate, and much to say to get on the same page, but the unwavering way he was looking back at me cleared up one thing: we would be in it together. He was choosing me, just as I had chosen him before.
A hand on my arm jolted me back into the present moment. Jess gave me a squeeze and then a little push forward. I realized that everyone had been waiting for me to walk over to Callum.
“Poppy, you can join Callum, please,” Gemma said, trying to move the show along.
I flushed, wondering just how long we had been staring at each other, and quickly walked over to sit next to him, our bodies pressing up against each other.
The relief at him picking me, at him reaffirming our deal, at him not picking Sara, was so strong I physically sagged with it.