"Jess, I really don't think this is a good idea," Callie said as I opened my laptop and logged on to Skyscanner.

"Why?" I asked.

"I think... I think you're doing it for the wrong reasons."

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking up.

"Well.... what do you imagine is going to happen when you get there?"

"I'm going to get the truth out of him," I declared.

"Are you sure that's all?" she asked gently.

"Yes," I said, but my voice betrayed me.

"Jess... please think about this. You can't just take him back after what he's done."

"I'm not going to," I said vaguely.

"Then why are you flying over there?" Callie asked, closing my laptop. "You're going to give him the wrong impression. Don't be a pushover."

"I'm not!" I said indignantly.

"It looks like it to me," she said, not unkindly. "You know what you're like around him. You've said yourself you've got no control. If he talks you round you'll fall into his arms and I don't want to you get taken for a ride."

"I will not fall into his arms, believe me," I said. "I'm too angry right now. Too disgusted. I'm not taking him back. I just want an explanation and he needs to understand he can't just ignore me and expect me to disappear quietly into the background."

"I just think you'll feel differently when you see him. You love him, and your heart rules your head. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but I don't want you to get hurt any more than you already have been."

"I probably will feel differently, you're right. But I'm not going to forgive him for this," I said. "I hate him for what he's done."

I opened my laptop again and found a flight leaving Heathrow at 8.55 the following morning that would get me into Brussels for 11.10.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Callie said softly as I typed my card details into the website and clicked Confirm.

"I do," I said confidently as I stood up and pulled my passport out of the drawer in the lounge.

I needed the full story, to enable me eventually to get some kind of closure on all of this. I knew I would never be able to get over Harry if I didn't fully understand what had happened. I needed to know why he had hurt me like this.

"Do you want me to stay tonight?" she asked as I called the local cab company and booked my taxi to the airport.

"You don't have to," I told her. "I'll be leaving at the crack of dawn."

"I will anyway," she smiled, and I smiled back gratefully.

I shoved some stuff in an overnight bag in case I couldn't get a flight back the same evening, and left everything by the door ready to go. Callie and I stayed up until midnight going through everything, and I tried Harry a couple more times but eventually came to the conclusion he wasn't going to speak to me. This made me even more determined to turn up without any warning, to show him I was not going to be ignored any longer.

I was up before my alarm sounded in the morning, after not much sleep, and chose my outfit carefully. I wanted to make sure I looked as good as possible under the circumstances. I didn't want Harry to think I had completely fallen apart (even though I had.) I left a note to Callie on the kitchen table telling her to help herself to anything she needed, and to let herself out when she was ready, and went downstairs to wait for my cab.

As the driver pulled up I couldn't help thinking back to the last time I had flown out to see Harry, and how different things had been back then. So much had happened between us in such a short space of time. It had all started out so well, and so full of hope. It was hard to accept it was all over, and that after today I would probably never see him again. This thought alone was enough to bring fresh tears to my eyes, and I gritted my teeth and blinked hard to stave off the emotion. I couldn't let myself succumb to this, not today. There would be plenty of time to crumble after I got back. I refused to break down in front of him and let him see what he'd done to me.

I repeatedly questioned whether or not I was doing the right thing: as I was checking in, as I was boarding the flight, as the plane was tearing down the runway (although what I would have done at this point if I'd changed my mind was irrelevant), and even as we touched down in Brussels. As I made my way through passport control my heart began to pound, as the reality of what I was doing started to sink in. Once I'd walked into Arrivals I headed straight outside to the taxi rank and nervously approached the driver of the nearest car.

"Um, parlez-vous anglais?" I asked tentatively as I peered in the window.

"Oui, oui - yes, of course," he said. "Where do you want to go?"

I opened the back door of the cab and jumped in. "Royal Windsor Grand Palace Hotel, please."

"OK," he said, and pulled away from the kerb.

The journey across the city took about half an hour, and thankfully there wasn't much traffic as it was a Saturday. I fidgeted nervously all the way there, fiddling with my hair, checking my reflection and wiping my palms on my jeans. I switched my phone on and immediately texts began to come through.

From: Callie: Good luck babe. Don't take any shit and ring me if you need me. Love you xxxx

From: Sarah: Are you alright??? I'm worried sick - RING ME xxx

From: Mum: I understand if you don't want to talk love but please just text to let us know you're alright. Love Mum x

From: Calvin: Ring me.

I sent quick replies to them all but didn't reveal where I was, and then made another attempt to call Harry. I was annoyed all over again that he was still refusing to answer.

The taxi pulled up outside the hotel and I felt a sudden lurch in my stomach as I realised this was it. There was no going back.

I paid the driver and got out of the car, holding my bag. There was a small crowd of about twenty girls hanging around outside, and I realised they were One Direction fans. I felt suddenly stupid for coming here with no real plan of how I was going to get Harry to talk to me, as he had so far rejected any form of contact since he dropped the bombshell that was Sara Sampaio.

I wasn't sure how well-known I might be in Belgium, but I didn't want to take any chances of these fans catching sight of me and asking awkward questions. And I certainly didn't want to try and walk in the hotel unaccompanied. My limited experience with the band told me there would be a heavy security presence preventing admittance from any unauthorised personnel.

I turned my back to the group of teenagers and pulled my phone out, casually walking away from the hotel entrance in the opposite direction. I called Harry again and it went to voicemail, as I knew it would.

I had no other option. I sighed, and dialled Louis' number. To my dismay, he didn't answer either. Now what was I supposed to do? I stared at my phone, my feeling of helplessness and vulnerability growing. I was on my own in a strange country, chasing after my unfaithful popstar ex-boyfriend who refused to give me the time of day.

What on earth was I even doing here?

Making a fool of myself, I decided. Callie had been right. This was the most stupid, idiotic thing I had ever done in my whole life. I couldn't believe it had taken me until I was standing outside Harry's hotel to realise it.

Thank God I had come to my senses before Harry had realised I was here. He would probably have had me sectioned or something. Or at least got a restraining order against me.

I turned around and scoured the street for a taxi. The sooner I got out of here, the better, before I got recognised and it got posted all over Twitter.

My phone started to ring, diverting my attention. Louis Tomlinson. Fuck. Now what should I do?

I stared at it for a few moments, before sighing resolutely and answering the call. I can only blame my inner Directioner for not letting me miss one last opportunity to talk to Louis. I was officially a loser.

"Hi," I sighed.

"Fucking hell - are you in Belgium?"

"Wha - how did you know?" I yelped, my mouth hanging open. I looked up at the hotel building, half expecting to see Louis hanging out of one of the windows or something.

"Your phone rang with a European tone!" he exclaimed in equal disbelief. "What are you doing here? What the fuck? Oh my God. Are you here to talk to Harry?"

"Well he wouldn't answer his phone, so I sort of thought he might agree to see me in person..." I trailed off weakly, my cheeks burning. Even saying it out loud was ridiculous.

"This is siiiiick," Louis breathed. "Where are you? Are you at the airport?"

"Um, I'm outside your hotel," I cringed.

"Holy fuck... how did you... never mind. You Directioners are fucking insane. I'm coming down now. Wait outside."

"Wait, Louis, there are fans out here," I hissed.

"I know. I won't come into view. I'll be with security and they'll come outside to get you."

"OK. Hold on - are you bringing Harry?" I asked, but Louis had already gone.

"Fuck!" I swore under my breath. I was worried Louis had got the wrong impression of why I was here.

I slowly wandered back towards the main entrance and a tall beefy looking guy I half recognised came out wearing a black windbreaker. He looked at me and I looked at him. He inclined his head slightly and I walked towards him.

"Name?" he muttered.

"Jess. I mean, Jessica Bradshaw," I said meekly. He towered over me and made me feel like I was a schoolgirl in trouble.

He nodded. "Come with me."

I walked beside him and he let me go in front of him through the main door of the hotel and into the lobby. He took me down a corridor and I could see Louis waiting at the end, in a doorway.

"I feel unloved," Louis joked as I neared him. "You're not racing down to me with your arms open."

I felt my bottom lip wobble as I fought to control my emotions. I did not want to cry in front of him. I didn't want to cry full stop.

"Oh shit, sorry," he said sympathetically when he saw the look on my face. "I didn't mean to be insensitive. Come on, in here."

He stood aside and let me walk into what looked like a small meeting room. There were a couple of tables against the wall with coffee and tea machines on them, a tray of cups, a couple of rows of chairs all facing a whiteboard, and a flipchart at one end.

"Where's Harry?" I asked.

"He doesn't know you're here yet," Louis said. "I came straight down."

"I tried calling him. He still isn't answering. I'm not here to forgive him," I said, looking Louis straight in the eye. (My heart gave a little flip - I'm only human.)

Louis looked surprised. "Why are you here then?"

"I want to talk it through. And I appreciate my timing is shit, turning up right before one of your concerts, but he told me he wasn't going home afterwards. I knew he was here right now, and it was my only chance to get the truth. So I can get some closure and move on. He owes me that at least."

Louis nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, he does."

"Will you get him to come down?" I asked tentatively. "I'd call him myself, but I'd guess he's probably got about fifty missed calls from me by now, and he isn't responding to any of them."

"Yeah," he replied. "Wait here, OK?"

"What if he won't see me?" I asked, suddenly fearful.

"He will. He may have been a complete shit these last few days but he won't refuse to see you as you've come all this way." Louis' face didn't look sure, but I nodded anyway and waited nervously as he left the room.

I stared around me as I waited. This hotel was the poshest I'd ever been in. I'd thought the one in Cardiff was swanky, but this one definitely topped it. I wondered what the band's rooms were like, which led me to thinking about Harry's room, and Harry's bed, and Harry in bed, and Harry's arms around me, and that's when I felt my eyes beginning to water as I remembered again what we'd had and what we'd lost. What he had thrown away.

Had it ever been real? Had he ever loved me? When he said he did, had he believed it, or was he just saying what I wanted to hear? Why would he even do that? None of this made any sense at all.

I heard footsteps coming down the corridor and my heart gave a leap. Was this Louis, coming to tell me Harry wouldn't see me? I listened, and immediately I knew from the shuffle of the footsteps that it was Harry.

I love him so much, I even recognise his walk, I thought sadly to myself.

I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat as the door opened slowly, and Harry entered the room.

---***---

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Next update will probably be tomorrow, same time xxx
2 more chapters to go....