To: Harry: Yes I did. And I don't wish you any bad feeling, but I don't see the point in keeping in touch. It's not like we're going to meet up for coffee. Better all round if we both just move on. 

I was proud of myself for being so firm. And I was surprised I had managed to reply so calmly, without my hands trembling, and without a lump rising in my throat. Maybe it was the knowledge I was leaving London tomorrow, and would be in completely new surroundings with no painful reminders (like my name sign on my desk that had been lurking in the background of the selfie I'd sent Harry, which he'd later pointed out during our date at C London, or the Costa Coffee across the street from my office where I'd run my finger across his bottom lip and turned him on when we'd met up just before he flew out on tour, or the newsagent I had to pass every morning where I'd bought the copy of Heat Magazine with the story of Harry's 'new girlfriend' Joy Muggli. Although this particular tale hadn't been true, I still remembered that period in our relationship every time I walked past it, and the memory of the feeling of hurt and despair was as real as the day it had happened.)

I received a reply as I was climbing into bed.

From: Harry: I was hoping maybe we could? Meet up for coffee, I mean x

I was starting to think nothing about this guy would surprise me anymore.

To: Harry: Why?

I'd sent this before I'd had time to think about it, and instantly regretted it. Why was I allowing him to draw me into conversation? Or rather, why was I drawing him into conversation? It's like I had no control over my fingers or something. 

I smirked at my own thoughts, noting the No Control reference. Old habits died hard.

My phone pinged almost straight away.

From: Harry: Just thought it would be good to catch up. I'll be home in August, I was hoping maybe I could see you x

My heart was pounding so hard it was making my chest shake. I knew what I should do. And I knew what I wanted to do. It was a pity the two were polar opposites.

I closed my eyes for a moment and forced myself to remember how I'd felt when I'd found out about his arrangement with Taylor Swift, and the time he'd gone in a sulk because I wouldn't go back to his house after the Fleetwood Mac concert and he'd ended up telling me he could have any girl he wanted, and when he'd called me to tell me he'd been unfaithful, and when I'd offered him a second chance in Brussels and he'd turned me down. Although this was an extremely unfair representation of our relationship, it was the only way I was able to do what I knew I needed to do. It worked. The opening of the old wounds brought back all the anger and resentment I still felt towards him.

To: Harry: Sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea. Enjoy your time off though, and I hope the US dates go well.

I didn't get a reply.

~~~~~

Callie called round the following morning and we sat at my kitchen table eating bacon sandwiches and drinking tea. I showed her Harry's texts, and she shook her head in despair at me, until she got to my last text, and raised her eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

"He just can't leave you alone, can he," she remarked. "I wonder what his game is."

"He doesn't like not being in control," I observed. "As soon as I reject him he keeps coming back for more. It's typical wanting-what-you-can't-have behaviour. I can see right through it."

"Hmmm," she said, noncommittally, and the subject moved on. 

She helped me put my bags in the car when I was ready to leave, and to my surprise she looked a bit tearful as we hugged goodbye. The journey to Cardiff was traffic-free, and I found my hotel easily with the sat nav. Once I'd checked in and unpacked, I got back in my car and drove the short distance to my new office, just to gauge the journey. I stopped at McDonalds on my way back and took my meal up to my room, and then spent the evening watching TV and preparing myself for the following day.

I was up before my alarm in the morning, and was ready in plenty of time. I had already picked out an outfit to wear, and after a quick breakfast in the hotel restaurant I got in my car and joined the Monday morning traffic crawling across the city. 

I arrived at the office building at half past eight, and my new boss, Mark, came out into reception to meet me.

"Jess!" he said, warmly, reaching out and shaking my hand. "You found us alright then?" He had a soft Welsh accent and a welcoming smile.

"Yes, I actually took a drive past last night when I arrived to make sure I knew where it was," I confessed, feeling self-conscious about my own accent.

"Organised, I like it," he smiled. "Come on, I'll give you a tour."

He led me upstairs to a large communal area and gave me a locker where I could leave my bag, and then showed me around the building, introducing me to everyone as we went. Hopefully my nerves didn't show too much, and everybody was as friendly and welcoming as Mark, waving and smiling at me as I was ushered around the building into each department.

We had a department meeting at 9.30, where I was introduced to the small team I would be supervising, before I was shown to my desk and given a handover from Mark. I tried not to jump to conclusions, but from what I had seen so far, the place was in a bit of a mess, with a lack of organisation. It wasn't the tight ship that Nicki ran in London, and already I was desperate to make headway and start sorting things out.

Mark basically told me I had free rein to do whatever I needed to do to get things in shape, so I spent the day making notes in my pad of all the things I felt needed looking at, ready to go through them with Mark in the morning. The staff were friendly and helpful, and approached me throughout the day for help and guidance with their work, and I left the office just after five o'clock feeling satisfied that my day had been productive.

I knocked on Mark's office door at half past eight the following morning, and spent an hour explaining what I'd worked through the previous day, what I thought needed to be changed, and where I felt needed more direction. He was receptive to my ideas, challenging me on some of them and agreeing with me on most, and between us we came up with a plan for me for the rest of the week to make some headway.

I took an early lunch, and was just unwrapping my sandwich in the staff room when a girl who looked a bit older than me walked in, and I recognised her as another one of the team leaders. She smiled at me when she saw me, and then approached my table with her lunch.

"How's your first week going?" she asked.

"Good so far," I smiled. "I'm just trying to remember everyone's names. This office is bigger than London. There's a lot more people."

"I'm Emma," she said, sitting down opposite me. "You know Harry Styles don't you?"

My stomach lurched nervously and I fought to keep my face impassive. Stupidly, although I had been worried that someone might recognise me, I hadn't really thought about what I would say if they did. And I'd been so absorbed in Work Mode, I'd forgotten all about it.

"Yeah, I know him," I said casually.

"Weren't you going out with him a while back?" she asked.

"We're just friends," I said dismissively, looking back down at my lunch.

"Oh, OK. That's cool," she nodded. "I'm a One Direction fan," she explained, smiling sheepishly. "That's how I recognised you. Sorry if I caught you off guard."

"It's fine," I smiled back, my insides churning. 

"So is Louis really having a baby with that Briana Jungwirth?" she asked, unwrapping her sandwich.

"There are always rumours flying around about that band," I shrugged, looking away again.

"Yeah, they're always getting linked to women aren't they," she said, chewing her food thoughtfully. "Are any of them true about Harry?"

"Um, I dunno, I don't really know him that well." Anymore, I added silently in my head. I never really did, I corrected myself.

"So are you staying in a hotel while you're here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, but I'll be going home at weekends," I told her. "All my friends are in London so I'll probably travel back either on Friday evening or Saturday morning."

"Bit of a trek isn't it?" she remarked.

"It's about three hours in the car," I told her. 

My phone lit up on the table and pinged loudly, making me jump. We both looked at it.

1 new message from Gemma Styles.

I decided to pretend that hadn't just happened, and purposely didn't reach for my phone.

"So do you live locally?" I asked, trying to act naturally and hide the fact my hands were now trembling slightly.

"Yeah, not far from here," she said, eventually looking up at me. "I get the bus to work. It only takes about twenty minutes. I've lived in Cardiff all my life."

"It's a nice city," I said, lamely, fast running out of small talk and desperately anxious to know why Gemma was texting me.

Would it look like I was trying to hide something if I didn't open the message immediately? Would I look too eager if I reached for it while we were talking? Was I massively overthinking this? 

Why oh why was anything connected to Harry always so complicated? This was exactly the reason why I should break all ties with him. It wasn't good for my health. 

"Have you been to Cardiff before?" Emma asked.

"Only once," I replied. "It was sort of a flying visit. Have you been to London?"

"Oh yeah, I love London," she said enthusiastically. "I've been a few times. I love Oxford Street."

I grinned. "Yeah, me too. I could spend all day in Topshop."

"I know!" she laughed. 

We chatted some more about London, and finished our food. I excused myself as soon as I felt I could without being rude, and scooted to the toilets to check my phone.

From: Gemma Styles: Hey! :) How are things with you? Random question but... did you leave a pair of flower-shaped earrings at my mum's house last time you were there? She's convinced they're mine but they're not! x

I breathed out loudly and grinned stupidly at my own reflection. What an anti-climax.

To: Gemma Styles: Haha! I'm good thanks, how are you? Are they silver with a pink stone in the middle? If so, they're mine! x

I headed back to the staff room and my phone pinged again almost straight away.

From: Gemma Styles:  Yes they do! I knew they'd be yours! Completely understand if this would be too awkward (queen of awkward here) but do you fancy catching up over lunch one day next week and I can return them? x

Well this was an easy one. I couldn't meet up with her even if I wanted to, as I was in Cardiff. I was sort of relieved the decision was taken out of my hands. 

To: Gemma Styles: Ah, I would have loved to but I'm working away the next few weeks so I'm only home at weekends, sorry! They were only from Topshop I think, I'm not too bothered about them :) x

If only interactions with all the Styles family were this easy.

From: Gemma Styles: Ooh nice! Doesn't have to be during the week, I could do a weekend too....? x

Oh great. That would teach me for faking enthusiasm when I thought it was safe. I immediately felt bad for thinking this. I actually liked Gemma; it was her sibling lookalike I was having problems getting over. I wasn't sure I could cope with seeing her in person. I'd probably have a breakdown or something. But there was no way out of this, without admitting it would be painful to have lunch with her, and then it might (would) get back to Harry, and I'd been doing so well in making him think I was moving on from him. Surely enduring a meeting with Gemma would therefore only compound this belief?

I found myself texting back.

To: Gemma Styles: OK, great :) I can't do this weekend though. How about the one after? x

From: Gemma Styles: Hmmm I can't do the two after that! Possibly the next one? 15th August? x

Harry had said he would be back home during his break, which coincided with that weekend, but obviously I had no idea exactly where he would be. However, the idea of meeting up with his sister while he was likely to be seeing her the same week didn't sit well with me.

To: Gemma Styles: I might have something on that weekend. Can I let you know? x

A little white lie never hurt anyone. Or so they say. 

From: Gemma Styles: Sure! :) Talk soon xx

As I returned to my desk I wondered if this meant Gemma was in Holmes Chapel at the moment, or had simply been talking to Anne about the earrings. I indulged in a little reminisce about the two weekends I'd spent there with Harry, and recalled his odd reaction after he'd taken the picture of me while we were out walking along the River Dane with his family. I'd never found out what had provoked the gasp from him, and the subsequent nervousness and exchange of looks with Gemma. Now I wondered if it had some profound meaning that would explain some of his weird behaviour. But it was too late to be thinking about this sort of stuff now. Harry finally seemed to have taken the hint as he hadn't texted me again since Saturday night, and it was nice not to have to worry every time I heard my text message alert, in case it was him.

Adam had been texting me every day, and by the time I woke up in my own bed in my own flat on Saturday morning (after a nightmare four-hour drive home on Friday night) I was sort of looking forward to seeing him. I couldn't deny that after the tornado that had been my relationship with Harry, the idea of a regular, ordinary date was somewhat appealing.  

----****----

Next update will be Friday, and after that I should be back to normal with my Wednesday/Saturday updates xx