"Melly, Melody! Please answer your phone! Please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I didn't know! I didn't know she was coming! She planned it all with Jeff, I think before I told him you were comin. I had no intention of you seeing....I know, Angel, I know.....I know it hurt you, it would kill m..........what are we doing?"

His voice sounded tinny, like he was in a bathroom. And the silent bits were loud, or full of audible breaths.

I tried to staunch my sobs and thanked my unlucky stars that my parents were still asleep when I came in like a wrecking ball after the show. I can't remember the exact sequence of events around my departure.

If I was writing the movie it would go like this. Two lost lovers stare at each other with hope and excitement before it is all dashed out of their eyes as an interloper arrives. Our heroine looks heartbroken and a tear leaks from one eye. Our 'hero' looks regretful and watches her turn on her heel and exit the room before faking a smile and redirecting his attention to the beautiful woman in his arms. The woman looks strikingly similar to the one who just exited, only a little better.

The only part that would be true is the description of HER, the girlfriend. She was tall, an inch shorter than me and slim and gorgeous and obviously a model. She had long wavy blonde hair and a beautiful face with big blue eyes. But she looked a little less exaggerated than me. Less like an anime character and more classically beautiful. She was also in a white dress. Guess he had a type.

Why did that feel like eating broken glass?

The real scene played out more like a shit show. I audibly choked when I figured out what was going on. She snuck up behind him and spun her boyfriend like a top, crying "Baby!" happily before attaching their mouths. Harry was still reeling from the spin and it was almost like we were dancing, because his momentum transferred to me and I about faced and made my exit. I didn't give myself any time to process it, nor did I stick around to be forced to go through an awkward meeting. In hindsight, this was probably incredibly rude of me. The idea of having to stand and shake her hand and learn her name while I was shattering like a mirror sounds like a torture out of the Saw movies. Maybe every shiny piece that fell off of me onto the floor would have left a bleeding slice and I'd have to stand there like nothing was happening and make small talk and pretend that I wasn't watching someone else live the life I dreamed about while blood trickled from lots of tiny cuts.

In my flight, I realized the more painful parts later. Like the resemblance. In the moment, I just watched my heart be torn out of my chest and crushed by the man that I had just decided to give it back to. Well, he probably had it the whole time based on how I was feeling. Listening to his message, he didn't mean for this to happen, or for me to see something so painful. And he knows it would be, Harry had made it clear the thought of Milo hurt him, and he was empathetic enough to know how he would feel if we had switched places. I think it hurt so badly because I was turned back on. Being near to Harry and letting myself feel made everything bright. Like my life had been turned down, a volume dial on 2, until I walked in to his literal arena and went up to 11.

I want to be dialed back again, that numb region between 2-4 was looking really attractive right now.

I'm sure a sound like an injured cat escaped me and I pivoted and my heel caught. I fell to my knees. The abrasion on my right leg bled all the way home. I heard my name behind me, but it sounded like your favorite song playing in another room. So I got myself up in a scramble of long limbs and I ran. There was a car near the curb at the VIP entrance I had come through. I'm sure it wasn't for me, but the driver took one look at the bodily fluids leaking from my knee and eyes and nose and asked, "Where to?"

I gasped out my parent's address. I wanted Kara, but knew she had a visitor, and this was no way to meet her man.

I think I saw a suit clad man with wild hair chasing the car. But I kept my head forward. Towards my future.

Harry had called. Over and over, then texted. I'd shut my phone down. When I got brave enough, as a rainy day dawned, I listened to some of the messages. The one asking what we were doing was the last one. The others had been him asking me to answer. Most of them were sweet and full of sorry words. Like I caught him cheating on me, instead of the truth.

Truth was that we were walking a really fine line. We weren't seeing each other, until tonight, and our conversations were not naughty, they barely even crossed the line to flirty. But nobody knew. We were hiding again. This time with much better reason. There was so much between us, there were not enough words to cover it. At the very least, I was cheating emotionally. Harry took over my mind like an occupying army. Our memories invaded happy moments and disappointments alike. There was no activity I could be doing, or conversation I could be having, or plans I could be making free from his bombardment.

The memories were not even the worst of it, the real betrayals. Those were the possibilities. I was building a life on clouds everyday. Daydreaming about what ifs. I'd be having a lovely moment, slow dancing while cooking dinner, or cake tasting, or listening to prospective bands, and Milo would be replaced in my head, like an avatar, a space holder for Harry. I rejected a band Milo loved, they even knew some Spanish standards, because there was one Harry would have liked better. Might have kidnapped the vocalist and brought him on the road.

When I picked the banana cake for the top tier, I had to admit to myself what I was doing. But I didn't until I was laying on the floor of a bedroom that was once mine and looked at the choices I had been making for the last several months. I laid them out the way I did my physical flaws at 13, side my side in a long line. I was that frog in the video game in the middle of the street waiting to get squashed under car wheels. But I was choosing to hop there.

What were we doing? What was I doing? To myself, to Milo and Harry. I had trouble caring about her.

Harry had a girlfriend, who flew to Australia to surprise him. Sounded serious. And I was getting married. I was getting married in three months. And today, I was going back to the bridal shop and buying a dress. Not the One, because the thought of wearing that dress and not standing in front of Harry on a spring day in England was even more miserable to think about than seeing Harry kiss another woman. I pushed away the thoughts of him standing facing somebody else before an altar.

And Milo. He was the real victim here. I'd never even told him about Harry. I had alluded to a bad break up and when we had had the sexual history conversation. He had only asked for numbers and testing. It was all very grown up and mature. But it also allowed me to pretend to be more over it than I was. At the time, I really thought I was over it. But, it was like a cold case, new evidence had been brought to light, and I'd had to let Harry out of the mental prison he'd been in due to wrongful conviction. Now I was in the cell in my head, because I deserved it, and just like any prisoner, all I seemed to have was time to think about what I had done to get me there.

And Harry had been open to me. To talking to me. And I'd missed him, and his horrible puns and the sound of his voice and his joy! If Harry liked something, he liked it big - without self consciousness. And he would tell me about the things he was seeing with his increased time and freedom and I was so happy for him. All I wanted was for him to be happy.

But secretly, I had decided that was with me.

I had imagined this entire scenario in my head. I'd tell him I wanted him. The last three years would evaporate along with our hurts, and we would be together.

I guess I thought our partners would just disappear too.

Even my non break up with Harry had been torturous. We hadn't actually had the heart rending talk until years afterwards, but it was bad as the time. Yet, we had shared nothing. There were no assets to divide. I didn't have to go look at real estate to figure out where I would be laying my head. Whereas, If I broke up with Milo, which a small lady clad in white on my right shoulder was screaming I had to do for decency's sake, I had to find a place to go in Singapore, at least until I decided where in the world I wanted to be. And when we had moved in, we had each come with a few things, but we had not been careful about what was mine and what was his. The things we bought, Milo bought, were to be ours. I was just thankful our finances were separate beyond that. If he forgave me, we'd have to keep it like that.

Milo's name appears on my phone. And I just can't. I couldn't talk to him. Because I may have just told him everything, and arranged for him to not be home when I got back so that I can get my things and find a new place. Or beg.

That all felt hasty. Maybe if I told him everything, we could have started there. And since I didn't have Harry, and my fantasies had been unrealistic, we could start again, maybe delay the wedding I was not ready for. Because Milo was wonderful and I'd be lucky to have him, and I could work harder and make sure I  was more worthy.

Maybe. Once he'd gone to voicemail, I called Kara.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come over?" I croaked.

"Um," she giggled and I was torn. She was happy and I could see the rose colored glasses on her face. The black cloud over my head was no good. I would not bring the rain down on her and Aiden's head.

"Kara," I bit my lip to make my voice stop going side to side like a weeble, "Sounds like you are still in the throes! Call me when you are done!"

"Ok!" She said and I heard her squeal as she hung up.

I could see them in my mind's eye, running, playing a very grown up game of tag in their undies.

Milo always felt the need to initiate wrestling matches. Last year, on the hottest day ever, or at least it felt like it, the grid went down and we were without air con. We'd been eating frozen fruit on the couch when I'd pushed him with my toes. He'd grabbed my foot then and hoisted me over. Before I knew it, he had me pinned beneath him and we were grappling and giggling and the juice from the quickly melting pineapple he was dribbling on my chest had wet through my bra.

"That looks sticky-guess I better help you take it off!" And my bralette was never seen again. It might be under the couch or in the cushions. We were already so sweaty, it didn't matter how much more gross we got and the cold shower afterwards was a remedy for several ills.

I was thinking how sweet the memory was, and that maybe all was not lost there, when Harry and his giant head invaded my mind.

Occasionally, the whole touring company would play hide and seek on the floors we occupied. There were long days sometimes where going outside was precluded because of the 1000's of fans crowded around the place and fifa and other games could get old.

"Knock, knock!" Niall's voice would sound, as he was instigator in chief, "We are doing shots and playing hide and go seek, get your arses out here!" Down the hallway he'd go and the assembled company would tumble out.

Before we were out, Harry and I would sneak into the hallway before everybody else and separate. Then we'd spend the rest of it trying to find each other and making out in any particularly secluded space we could find.

After everybody knew...well I still don't think Michael has recovered from where he found us tangled around each other. The bottle of water he'd doused us with was icy!

I pushed the memories away with both hands and got myself to the bathroom. My reflection suggested I'd been on a bender or a runway in the heroine chic era. My eyes were rimmed black and mascara had leaked onto my cheeks.

The water was cold, but it woke me up. I created this. By not being honest, with Milo, and Harry and myself.

I should have told Harry my hopes, so he could have dashed them properly. Maybe over the phone so I could save myself the heartbreak. I should have told Milo about my wandering heart.

I should have admitted to myself what I was doing.

I should have talked to Harry three years ago before I ran.

The fourth stair down creaks if you step on the right side of it. I carefully tiptoed over it and held the banister to get downstairs for some food.

I mentally clapped myself on the back for being sneaky when I saw my parents sitting at the breakfast bar. They looked grim, like somebody died. I dramatically thought it must be my funeral.

"Morning!" I salvoed and tried to get tea as though nothing is amiss. I'd cleaned up my face and it was not too puffy, maybe they wouldn't notice.

"Melody Olivia," Dad started, shit. "Sit down."

They were clutching hands, like they were when my mom got her biopsy results. Tears are not being pressed down like a suitcase with too much stuffing, so I was hopeful this was just about the mess I'm in, not about matters of actual life and death importance.

I brought my cup and sat. 'What's going on?"

"We're concerned about you." My mom started.

"I'm not concerned about you, I'm damn worried." Dad harrumphed. "What are you doing, Melly? Here to pick out your wedding dress and sneaking out to see Harry? We didn't raise you like that?" He looked disappointed and I flashed to when I cheated on an exam and confessed to him.

"I didn't," I started with no end in sight to the sentence. "I just went to his show. We've been trying to be friends, Harry and me." I explained, painting a picture backlit with white. They both give me a look like they have just bitten into a lemon. "What?"

They exchanged a look and my dad gestured for my mom to wade in. "Melody, you and Harry aren't friends. Don't think you can be. There's a force in the air when you two are near each other, like when you teach kids about magnets and they try to keep them apart. When he came here, that first time, your father and I could see it. It's why we let you leave with him. We doubted you'd ever come back."

She sighed. "But then you did, and I'm so thankful, I may not have had the will to go through," she swallowed, "You were my hope darling," she reached forward to caress my face, "As ever. But your hope was fading, we could see it. And then you were this ghost of a person. Never seen anybody so sad. We don't want you to ever feel that way again!" My dad squeezed her hand. "Then you just left. And he came looking for you, and we did what we thought best, though now, to watch you two orbiting each other again is..."

My dad cut in, "Melody Olivia."my name is a sentence onto itself. "You have some decisions to make. And right now. I may not be Milo's biggest fan. But he loves you and has made some big  promises to you, which you've accepted. And your mother tells me that you wouldn't buy a dress and don't you think she doesn't know why!" His voice went up at the end. "It's not right, little one, it's not. You and Harry are gonna wind up hurting a lot of people."

That's when I cut in. "Harry's not even an option! And I'm gonna." My eyes brimmed again. "I'm gonna tell Milo the truth and see if we can move on. Maybe we can delay a bit. I should marry him, I'd be lucky to." I bit my lip and could taste a bit of rust plus salt from my tears. "But I've discovered I have some feelings I need to get over. Harry, Harry." I'm not sure where to go there. "I need to get over him, we talked out all of our issues and he has, his," dammit, overflow, "His girlfriend was there last night. So, I'm sure that's done. And you guys are right, we can't be friends."

My parents looked at each other and the silent communication made me ache with pride and longing. We should all have that. It dawned on me that there was something I was missing.

"We think," my mother began then gave my dad a helpless look.

"Melody, we think you need to decide what you want. And try to be honest-then go get it," he said.

I shook my head. I couldn't have what I want, I ran that ship aground and damaged it beyond repair.

"I, he's happy, he looked happy, and that's." I looked up to clear my eyes and voice, "That's what I want for him. He's moved on and leaves today, I think. I need to accept reality and, um, be content." Like Kara said.
My parents shared another look and my mother nodded.

"Melody, Harry's in the sun room. He came this morning. To me that doesn't sound as hopeless as you think."

My dad keeps talking but I can't process anything beyond the fact that Harry is two rooms away.