I pulled my hands away from Harry's and pressed my fingers to my temples again. For a minute neither of us spoke. I felt strangely removed from the situation, like I was watching the scene unfold in someone else's hotel room.

"Say something," he begged, softly.

"I don't even know what to say," I said, truthfully. "This has completely blindsided me."

"I'm sorry," he said, sadly.

"You're not," I said, bluntly. "If you were sorry, you would have told me about this sooner, instead of letting me think our relationship meant nothing. You wouldn't have let me think I had made a complete fool of myself by throwing myself at you. You wouldn't have let me think you didn't care at all, and you wouldn't have spoken to me like I was a piece of shıt on the phone the day after Libertine!"

My voice was rising, along with my temper. I was hurt, confused and upset and I wanted to lash out at him.

"I was furious that you'd kissed Louis the night before," he said. "I'd not long found out what Nadine had done, and I had wanted to tell you at my hotel. When I woke up and found you gone, I..." He took a sharp breath and looked down at his hands. "Well, it doesn't matter. I was just upset that you'd ended up sleeping with me but only hours earlier you'd been kissing Louis. I was angry and humiliated and I shouldn't have shouted at you the way I did. I just felt like I couldn't trust anyone anymore. Nadine had shown her true colours, and then you'd gone behind my back as well..."

Another memory came to me, this time of something Harry had said during that phone conversation:

"What is it with people suddenly revealing their true colours? Seems to be a familiar theme for me lately."

"When you hung up on me I was a mess," he continued. "I was shaking. My whole world was crumbling around me, just like I'd said it would; like I knew it would." He paused, biting his lip. "I was so angry with you, but it came from hurt, not hate. I'd just about calmed down when you called me back, and I thought... I thought you were calling to apologise about Louis. I was going to apologise too, and ask you if you would see me again, so I could explain things. But you just went off on one. You started accusing me of setting you up with the paps, of hiding my real self from you all along... I couldn't believe you would think that about me. Your words cut deep. I was so hurt. You'd worked it all out, but you were blaming the wrong person. The whole thing had been a set up: Nadine coming to our bar in New York, giving Jason that drug, and also Karen tipping off the paps outside Libertine that night. But it was nothing to do with me, I promise you."

"Of course it was a set up. Everything was a set up. Why are you telling me what I already know?"

More of his words from that conversation were making sense. How had I not understood this sooner? Why had I been so quick to assume the man who had loved me would have betrayed me like that?

"Why didn't you fight for us?" I whispered, more to myself than Harry.

"Because I'm an idiot."

"Well, I won't argue with that," I retorted.

He was still for a moment, looking between his knees at the floor, before lifting his head to look at me.

"I couldn't see what was staring me in the face," he said.

"Which was?"

(I was being a bitch, but I didn't care.)

"That I am hopelessly, helplessly in love with you and I should never have let you go."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. His words were having no effect. I was numb. I had shut down; I had gone into self-preservation mode. Experience told me if I let him into my head I would only get hurt again.

"I can't process this," I mumbled. "It's too much. You can't just turn up here out of the blue like this, uninvited, and land all this on me."

"I know. I'm sorry. I wish there had been another way to tell you all this, but I didn't know what else to do. You were refusing to see me, you were barely answering my texts... I didn't know you weren't in London, but once I realised where you were I just thought.... I dunno...." he finished with a sigh.

"You thought you'd just follow me here - despite me asking you to leave me alone - and force me to listen to you?"

"No! Well... yeah, I suppose, but you make it sound awful when you put it like that."

"No, Harry!" I snapped. "I don't make it sound anything. It is awful! I'm trying to move on with my life and you turn up on my doorstep with this crazy story about how you were duped into taking some weird sex drug, which is supposed to explain why you cheated on me, and that you actually loved me all along, and still do, despite telling me you didn't!"

"I never actually said -"

I let out a growl of frustration.

"You led me to believe you didn't love me! You didn't correct me when you knew that's what I thought! It's the same thing!" I shouted.

"I'm so sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know how to fix this. The whole thing started with one little white lie, and snowballed out of control before I could stop it."

"A little white lie," I laughed, bitterly, feeling a burning heat behind the backs of my eyes. "How fuckıng ironic."

"I should have told you Nadine wanted to meet up," he said, ignoring my derision. "I should have told you about Louis' baby, and what effect it would have on everything. That was the start of it all. If I could go back and change it, I would."

"Yes," I nodded, and I realised I was crying again. "Yes, you should have told me. But you didn't. You didn't trust me, or you didn't think I would understand, or you couldn't be bothered. Whatever your reasons were, they don't matter now. What's done is done."

"Don't say that," he pleaded.

"It's too late, Harry," I sobbed. "I can't trust you. Not just because you slept with someone else, but because you weren't honest with me, before that even happened. And afterwards, when I offered you another chance to work things out, you threw it back in my face. You didn't fight for us. You didn't fight for me. You were happy to let me go, and that's what hurts. I could possibly have got over the infidelity in time, given the circumstances. But it was everything else that came with it, before and after, that broke me."

"Jess," he choked, and I felt misery sear through my chest as I saw the pain on his face and the tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I whispered. "It's over. It was over since before you went to New York. I just didn't know it."

He dropped his head down so I couldn't see his face, and I saw his shoulders heave with a sob. It took every ounce of willpower I had left to turn away from him and not go running to him like I wanted to.

"You'll be fine," I said, through my tears. "There are millions of women out there queueing up to go out with you. You won't be on the shelf for long. You could probably find someone within five minutes, if you really wanted."

"I don't want anyone else," I heard him say in a strangled voice. "I only want you. I love you. And I'm so sorry for hurting you."

"Stop apologising," I said, softly. "I know you're sorry. But no amount of sorry will rebuild the trust. It's gone, and without it our relationship is nothing."

"I know," he sobbed, and I heard him sniff. "And I know it's me who has done this."

"It's not just you," I said. "I struggled from the start to trust you, and that wasn't your fault. I'm as much to blame for that side of things."

"I wish it were different." He sounded broken-hearted. He sounded like I felt.

"So do I," I sighed, and I turned back to him to see him looking miserably up at me with red eyes and tears on his cheeks. When he caught my eye his lip wobbled and he put his head down again. I wiped my eyes for the millionth time and took a deep breath.

"Has there been anyone else? Since me?" I asked. I knew I would only torture myself with this if I didn't ask. It wasn't even any of my business, but I knew somehow he would give me an honest answer.

"No," he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "No one. It made me sick that the last time I'd had sex was when I'd ruined our relationship by being unfaithful to you. I was so desperate to make love to you that night in the hotel... I just wanted you to be the last person I'd been with, even if it was going to be for the last time. I know that was really selfish of me, but honestly, Jess, I was desperate. I'm so sorry."

Yet again, it explained the way he had been that night; when I had told him no the first time and he had practically begged me.

He was reaching his hand out to me and I took a small step forwards, so I was close enough for him to grab my waist from where he was sitting. He pulled me towards him and I stepped between his legs, slipping my arms around his shoulders while he squeezed me tightly, his cheek pressed against my stomach again.

"I missed you so much," he whispered.

I said nothing; afraid of what my mouth might say if I let him draw me into this conversation. We stayed in this embrace for a minute, both silent.

"Jess," he murmured. "Can we... could we at least stay friends? We don't have to be close, if you don't want, but... but I dunno, just like maybe say hi every now and again and stuff?"

I pulled back from him and he reluctantly let go of me and looked up at me.

"I don't think that's a good idea, do you?" I said, softly. "Don't you think a clean break might be better for us both?"

"I don't want to lose you from my life completely," he mumbled. "I hate the thought of not being able to text you, or maybe even call you occasionally, or you could call me..."

I hate the thought of you with someone else, but I have to deal with that pain every day, I thought spitefully to myself, but decided not to say this out loud.

"I don't want to give you the wrong idea," I said, awkwardly. "I'm not changing my mind on this, Harry. It wouldn't be fair to let you think otherwise."

Even though you let me think the wrong things for two months.

Seriously, what was wrong with me?

"Why don't you let me worry about that?" he said, with a trace of a smile.

"Because I'm not going to hurt you knowingly," I said. I'm not you.

"You wouldn't be," he insisted. "I know I've done most of the talking tonight but believe me, I have also been listening. I've listened more than I ever have, I think. I want to make this right, Jess. I will do whatever you want, if it means there's the faintest chance that you... that we..."

"That we what, Harry?"

"That we might be able to give things another go."

"That isn't going to happen," I sighed, closing my eyes.

"I just want the chance to show you I'm worthy of you."

I rolled my eyes. "Worthy of me? This isn't the sixteenth century. I'm not some fair maiden waiting for a knight in shining armour to come and rescue me. What's so funny?" I demanded, as his face broke into a huge grin and he looked away, biting his lower lip.

"Well, I might never be your knight in shining armour," he said, still grinning, and I pulled a face at him.

"Why are you being weird?"

He chuckled, and gave his eyes another wipe with his hand. "Sorry. I just like causing trouble up in hotel rooms."

He seemed to be having some sort of private joke with himself, so I rolled my eyes again.

His grin subsided and he looked back at me and sighed. "I mean it. I don't want to give up on us this time. I know you're saying you won't change your mind, and I respect that. I won't pressure you for anything you don't want, I promise. Like I said, I have listened. I'm just asking to be in your life in whatever capacity you want."

"I... I just... I don't think it's a good idea, Harry," I said in a small voice.

Silence stretched between us for an impossibly long time.

"Oh," he said eventually, in an equally small voice.

"I'm sorry," I said, pulling at my own fingers. "I just know from experience that we do nothing but hurt each other. I can't put myself through that all over again. I'm trying to get over you but you make that really difficult when you are ever-present in my life. The only way I can move on and be happy is if you let me. You've done it once - you shouldn't find it too hard," I couldn't resist adding.

"I found it impossible," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hence why I am here now."

"I'm sorry," I said again. "I'm not doing this for revenge, or for attention, or to hurt you. I'm doing it because I think it's the right thing for both of us."

He looked away from me and wiped surreptitiously at his eyes again. "Don't you love me?" he asked, in a trembling voice.

"It doesn't matter - it's not enough," I began, but he interrupted me.

"That's not an answer. I've been completely truthful with you tonight. I've told you everything, laid myself bare to you. The least you can do is answer one question honestly."

"Why torture ourselves with it?" I muttered.

"Because I need to know," he said. "I've told you how I feel. I get that it won't make a difference to anything, but it matters to me. Jess," he said, almost sternly, and I looked into his eyes.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered, as fresh tears coursed down my cheeks. "But it isn't enough."

He nodded sadly and stood up. I watched as he walked towards me, and then slipped his arms around me, drawing me against his chest and resting his chin on the top of my head. I curled into his embrace, breathing in his calming scent and wishing more than anything that this could be different, that I could consider trusting him again, but I knew I couldn't. As much as I wanted to, I would never be able to relax. I would always be waiting for the next bombshell to drop, and I couldn't cope with that level of stress in my life.

I lost track of how long we stayed like that, me crying softly into his t-shirt and his tears dripping into my hair.

"I should go," he said eventually, pulling away from me and wiping his eyes again.

"OK," I said softly.

I watched while he pulled his phone out of his pocket, checked it, and slipped it back in, and then picked up his keys and sunglasses. I brushed my tears away as he turned back towards me again, and he tucked his sunglasses into the neck of his t-shirt. He looked into my eyes and gave me a sad smile.

"Take care, Jess," he said.

"You too," I said, my voice wobbling.

He leaned forward and bent down slightly, and pressed his lips softly against mine. I kissed him back, reaching up to cup his face in my hands. He tasted as sweet as he had the very first time, although without the undertone of cherry brandy. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you," I whispered back.

There was nothing more to say. Everything had already been said. We had reached the end of the road.

He kissed me one last time before turning away to the door, grabbing his sunglasses from his tshirt and slipping them on. He opened the door and looked back at me, as if somehow hoping I would change my mind. He hesitated for a second, and then gave me a soft smile.

"Bye," he said.

"Bye," I echoed.

He slipped gracefully through the door, and pulled it gently shut behind him with a click.