I woke up the next morning to a harsh vibrating coming from the bedside table next to me. I lifted my head and then groaned in pain as my temples throbbed. I fumbled clumsily to pick my phone up and saw Harry's name on the screen.

"Hello?" I croaked.

"Hi. It's me." He sounded nervous. Uncertain.

"Hi," I mumbled.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Dead," I replied.

He chuckled. "Oh dear."

"What time is it?"

"Just after ten," he replied. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry," he said, quickly.

"No it's fine," I said, just as quickly. I was suddenly afraid he might ring off. "I shouldn't sleep in too late or I won't be able to get to sleep tonight."

The length of this sentence made my head hurt. I whimpered.

"You said you weren't in work today...?" he asked, hesitantly.

"No, I'd booked the day off," I mumbled. I didn't really want to pursue this line of conversation. I had no desire to talk about my plans with Adam with Harry. It was too weird.

"Well that's a relief for you," he said.

"Yeah, I couldn't work in this state," I groaned, and he gave a courtesy chuckle. "Have you been up long?" I asked.

"I'm still in bed, but I've been awake about an hour."

"Mmm," I murmured, because I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"What are you going to do today then?" he said, after a short pause.

"Probably stay in bed and nurse my hangover," I muttered. "What about you?"

"I'll head back to London, then home to my mum's for the week," he said.

We had now resorted to repeating yesterday's conversation. Great.

This whole exchange felt forced and awkward. He had no real reason to be ringing me, other than to check I was alright, which we had established in the first five seconds. We were now making idle chitchat, prolonging the conversation because neither of us seemed to want the call to end.

"I thought maybe I might go for a walk along the river before I leave," he said quickly. "I wondered if you wanted to come with me? It's a beautiful day. And the fresh air might do you good?"

Harry was thinking about going for a walk along the river in Cardiff all by himself with no security in the middle of the summer holidays?

"Umm..." I stalled.

"It's fine if you don't want to," he said in a rush. "Don't worry about it."

"No, I do," I heard myself say. "But - how would that work? You said yourself the paps might be on the lookout."

"They're more likely to be hanging around the hotels," he said. "But I get it if you don't want to take the risk. I know you don't want the attention."

"Neither do you," I reminded him.

"No, but... I'd really like to see you. I'm past caring what the media says about me. I just don't want them to upset you."

I didn't want any more pictures of me and Harry, but I couldn't deny I wanted to see him. The hurt and anger hadn't disappeared, but I felt calmer this morning than I had last night when Harry had sprung the whole Nadine drug scandal on me. I didn't allow myself to think about the other part of it - the part where he had admitted his feelings. That was definitely too much to deal with right now.

"OK," I said. "I'll come for a walk with you. But let's make it after lunch. I've got some stuff to sort out first."

I needed to speak to Adam; to apologise properly for the way I had treated him. He deserved that, at the very least. I needed to do the right thing.

After I'd ended the call with Harry I rang Adam straight away. He answered after three rings.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I said, apologetically. "Have you got a minute to talk?"

"Of course," he said. "Are you OK?"

Wouldn't my life be so much simpler if I could muster up even a fraction of the attraction I felt towards Harry for Adam instead?

"Yeah, I'm fine," I sighed. "Hungover, but that's my own stupid fault for being such a train wreck last night." He chuckled. "Are you still in the hotel?" I asked.

"Yeah, I got a room on the ground floor," he replied. "I'm heading home in a bit."

"Can we meet up, before you go?" I asked timidly. "I know I've behaved terribly, and I'd really like to apologise properly, in person, and maybe buy you breakfast?"

He sighed. "I suppose that can't do any harm."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Shall I meet you in the restaurant in half an hour?"

"OK," he said.

I crawled out of bed, showered, and pulled some comfy clothes on. I made my way down to the hotel restaurant where they were still serving breakfast, sat down, and ordered two coffees and two full English breakfasts.

I'd only been there a couple of minutes when Adam appeared at my side and then sat down opposite me.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," I greeted him. "I've ordered two breakfasts."

"Wow, you weren't lying when you said you could eat a sharing platter to yourself," he remarked.

"No, I mean I've got a us a breakfast each!" I protested, and he laughed.

"I know. I'm just winding you up. Are you filling up on grease to soak up the alcohol?"

My stomach churned uncomfortably at the mention of grease. "Uh, yeah," I said faintly.

"You were pretty hammered last night," he chuckled.

"Oh God," I moaned, putting my head in my hands. "I'm so sorry. I feel like I should be on that TV programme Fifty Worst Dates."

He laughed a little louder at this. "It wasn't that bad."

I lifted my head and looked at him. "I behaved despicably. You're just too much of a gentleman to be completely honest with me."

He shrugged. "No hard feelings. I'm not going to make you feel bad for not liking me in that way."

"You are possibly one of the sweetest guys I have ever met in my entire life," I sighed. "Under different circumstances I would have really liked us to be friends, but I wouldn't blame you if you told me where to go."

"Of course we can be friends," he smiled. "Either way, I've really enjoyed our dates. I think we get on well. It would be a shame to waste that."

"Yeah it would," I smiled back. "For what it's worth I didn't mean to lead you on. I really enjoyed spending time with you, too. I'm just not in a place where I can even think about another relationship right now."

"I get it - I really do," he insisted. "But does this mean you're not getting back with Ha- with your ex?"

I eyed him with suspicion. "I am definitely not getting back with my ex," I said, firmly. "Too much water has passed under the bridge for that. But I'd like at least to be civil with him. Not that our paths are ever likely to cross in the future, but I need some form of closure."

"Yeah, what with him jetting around the world, playing stadiums every night," he nodded.

I chose to ignore this. I wasn't about to confirm my ex-relationship with Harry to Adam, friend or not. "I just don't want any bad feeling. With anyone. Ever," I tried to explain.

"You're a sweet girl," he smiled. "In different circumstances we would have been a good match."

"Another time, another place," I smiled back. Wait, wasn't that exactly what Louis Tomlinson had said to me outside Libertine? For God's sake, why did everything always come back to One Direction? I shook my head and sighed.

We devoured our breakfasts when they arrived, and managed to keep the conversation fairly neutral all the way through. Although I had finally accepted that I wasn't interested in Adam in a romantic way, I honestly enjoyed his company. He made me laugh, and given my current situation, I was glad of the distraction.

"I really am sorry. Again," I said, as we stood up to leave half an hour later.

"Stop apologising," he said, with a smile. "I can't pretend I'm not disappointed that things didn't go the way I'd hoped, but you have nothing to be sorry for."

"Thanks for stopping me last night, too," I mumbled, not meeting his eye. I had tried not to think about this part of it, but I needed to acknowledge it before he left.

"Yeah, well, as much as I wanted to, I could tell you didn't; not really. I didn't want you to wake up in the morning with regrets. Or worse, doubt that you'd given consent."

"Oh my God," I said, horrified. "I would never have doubted that."

"You don't know for sure," he said, kindly. "I didn't want to put either of us in that position."

"I'm sorry I even made that thought cross your mind," I said, even more disgusted with myself. If nothing else, last night's events had given me a massive wake-up call. I needed to pull myself together and take charge of my life again. I had done my best to get over Harry, but judging by the way recent revelations had caused me to fall apart, it was evident I was nowhere near over him.

I said goodbye to Adam in the hotel lobby, and promised things would never be awkward on future nights out, and then made my way back up to my room. It was lunchtime, and I only had an hour before I was due to meet Harry. I was feeling much better thanks to having eaten, so I changed into a nice top and a pair of ripped skinnies, put a bit of makeup on and walked down to my car.

Harry had been right - it was a beautiful day outside, and I felt better for being out of the hotel with a purpose instead of festering in my room. I felt a flutter of nerves at seeing Harry again. It was the first time I had actually arranged to meet up with him since before I found out he had cheated on me. Every time I had seen him since that day had been with no prior warning. I hated myself for that jolt of excitement that kept shooting through my stomach, as I wondered what he would be wearing, and how he would have his hair. I made a bet with myself that he would be wearing black skinnes, a tshirt (not a shirt), chelsea boots and his hair in a mun. Similar to yesterday, but a casual look.

I pulled into the car park where we had agreed to meet and my stomach flipped over again when I saw Harry's Audi already parked up under some trees. I checked my reflection nervously in the mirror, then slipped my sunglasses on as I killed the engine, then fumbled with the door handle and climbed out of the car. Harry was just blipping the Audi with the remote locking as I stood up, and my heart lurched as I took in the sight of him. He was wearing sunglasses too and had his hair pulled back in a mun, and as he walked around the back of his car (my jaw was practically on the floor) I saw he was indeed wearing a soft white tshirt, black skinny jeans and chelsea boots. I couldn't disguise my smirk, and he smiled questioningly at me, sending a flush of goosebumps over my entire body.

"What are you smirking at?" he called as he walked towards me.

"I guessed what you would be wearing," I called back. "Down to the boots and the hairstyle."

He grinned. "Am I that predictable?"

"Looks like it," I replied, locking my car and shoving my keys and phone in my back pocket.

"You look lovely," he said softly, still smiling.

"Thanks," I said, nervously, feeling the smirk slide off my face as he crossed into familiarity.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's OK, you didn't," I lied.

"Fibber," he said. "You're twisting your fingers together."

I looked down and saw that he was right, and felt my face flush as I pulled my hands apart and shoved them in the back pockets of my jeans. It made my heart pound to think he had picked up on my tiny habits like this.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as we made our way across the grass towards the towpath.

"Better after a full English," I said. "I won't be drinking cocktails again in a hurry."

He turned his head slightly towards me and out of the corner of my eye I could see him grinning at me. My heart flipped again. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Thanks for coming to meet me," he said.

"It's OK," I replied. "It's not like I had anything better to do."

This was met with silence and I realised how it must have sounded.

"Sorry," I apologised, hastily. "I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't trying to be a bitch."

"You're still angry, I get it," he said, after a moment.

"Of course I'm still angry," I said, looking at him. "I've got months of hurt and confusion to process and evaluate. But I wasn't trying to score points just then. I just meant it isn't a big deal, me coming for a walk with you."

"Isn't it?" he said, meeting my gaze. "I'd say it's a massive deal. Considering yesterday you told me you didn't want me to contact you again. And considering everything that has happened over the past couple of months between us."

"I don't know, Harry," I sighed. "I haven't had time to process any of this. Twenty-four hours ago I believed you didn't love me, you'd been unfaithful to me because you'd found someone better, and I would probably never see you again. Twenty-four hours ago I had a boyfriend and a fuckıng path in front of me that didn't involve you."

"And now?"

"Now... everything's changed," I huffed.

"How so?"

"Well - everything you told me yesterday is different to what I believed."

"And how has that changed everything?" he asked. "I just want to know what's going on in your head," he confessed after I gave him a disbelieving look.

"I don't know," I said, truthfully. "I haven't had time to think about any of it. I don't hate you anymore; but then I stopped hating you a while ago. I'm glad you've told me the truth. It's changed everything, but at the same time it's changed nothing. I can finally stop blaming myself for not being enough for you, but it doesn't change the fact that you slept with someone else. I know there were extreme circumstances, but you were still unfaithful. And I've always had a firm stance on that. Cheating is a deal-breaker for me."

"Do you believe that I would never have gone near anyone else if I hadn't taken that drug?" he asked, a tone of pleading in his voice.

"Yeah," I said. "But you did take it. So what's to stop you doing that again the next time the urge takes you?"

"I'm never touching anything like that ever again," he said, shaking his head firmly.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I sighed.

"I'm not," he said shortly, and the tone in his voice made me stop in my tracks and look at him. "One bad experience is enough to put me off for life. It wasn't something I did regularly anyway. It's not like I have to make a conscious effort to give it up. I don't want to do it again, so I won't. That goes for any type of recreational drug. It holds no appeal for me."

We started walking again, and I stared at a group of ducks swimming alongside us, looking up at us expectantly.

"Have you missed me?" he asked.

"Missed you?" I echoed. How could I even put this into words? How could I begin to explain that my entire existence felt meaningless without him? The way I felt about him was unhealthy. I shook my head wordlessly.

"It's OK, I understand you've moved on, you have someone else now," he muttered, looking down at his feet.

"No, I... you don't understand at all," I said.

"Tell me, then," he said, looking up at me seriously.

"I don't know how," I said, desperately. "I don't know how to put this into words. I've never felt like this before. You weren't just my boyfriend, Harry. You were my best friend. But you didn't trust me enough to confide your fears in me. You were worried I might take Louis' side over yours, and you went to meet your ex-girlfriend behind my back. Then you slept with someone else. Since the second I found out about you and the fucķing Shetland pony I've missed you, because that was the moment I found out I'd lost you from my life. But what hurt the most is that you'd already been lying to me for weeks before that. I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, and on its own I could have got over it, but the combination of everything is what broke us. And in answer to your question, I missed you every single day. I missed your voice, your laugh, your smile, your wink, your mun... I missed your stupid knock-knock jokes, I missed the way you constantly took the piss out of Gemma, I missed the way you pretended to hate it when I called you Squidge. I miss the way you lick your lips and press them together when you're listening to someone talking, I miss the way you ruffle your hair forwards and then flip it back to give it volume, I miss the way you screw your eyes up when you laugh properly. I miss every little thing about you, and I miss the way we used to be, because although we've only actually known each other a few months, I have never felt this way about anyone. And that's why this hurts so much. The more you love someone, the more it hurts when they break your heart. I can't risk going through all this again. I've been a mess because of what happened. I've finally realised I need to learn to be happy without you, before I can even consider letting you back in my life again."

He led me over to a bench by a mooring post and we sat down next to each other.

"Is that something you are considering?" he asked after a moment.

"What, letting you back in my life? I don't know," I admitted. "I don't trust you, and I don't know if I want to try and rebuild it. Part of me misses you so much and just wants things to go back to how they were before, but the rational part of me doesn't want anything to do with you ever again. It's everything, do you understand that? It's not just that you were unfaithful, although that is the main thing. But it's the lies about Nadine, the fact that you didn't open up to me when you were going through a tough time, the lies you told me after you'd cheated, and letting me believe you didn't love me... It's everything together that has done the damage."

He nodded slowly. "I understand."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, staring across the water. The breeze blew my hair across my face and I tucked it behind my ear impatiently.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said, truthfully. "I can't even begin to make any sorts of decisions until I've thought it all through. Like I said, I need to learn to be happy without you. And now everything is out in the open and we have no more secrets, I think I can finally heal. Maybe you can, too."

He said nothing. He sat on the bench with his legs bent and his hands clasped together between his knees.

"What do you want from me, Harry?" I asked. "I know you said you didn't come here to ask me to take you back. So what do you want?"

"I want you," he said, turning to look at me. "I don't feel I have the right even to ask you to take me back, because of how much I've hurt you. I don't want you to feel pressured, or compromised, or backed into a corner. I'm also terrified of asking because I know the answer right now is no, and I don't think I can deal with that."

"But is that ultimately what you want?" I pressed. "You want us to get back together?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "I know I don't deserve you, and I know I have a lot of ground to make up."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You're coming at this from the wrong angle. This isn't about you having to make things up to me, or you not deserving me. I've hurt you in the past, too, by not trusting you when I should have. We're both equals, and any type of relationship would never work unless we treat each other as such. I'm not going to make you jump through hoops to win me back; I'm not like that. I have a lot of stuff to come to terms with, and until I do, there's no point in us even trying to be friends."

"I just want to prove to you that I will never let you down again," he said, scuffing the toe of his boots against the gravel of the towpath.

"I get that, Harry," I said, softly. "But remember what I said yesterday about you always charging in head first, trying to run my life for me. You're supposed to be listening to me. Well I'm asking you to back off and give me some breathing space. You turned up and landed this on me, and you seem to be expecting me to make some sort of decision about us, or at least give you hope that we might get back together one day. Well I can't do that. I don't know how I'm going to feel in ten minutes, ten hours, ten days, ten years. I need time."

"I'll wait," he said quickly. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

"No," I said, pressing my fingers to my temples. "I'm telling you not to. I'm not going to make you hang around and waste your life waiting for something that might never happen."

"What are you saying?" he whispered.

"I'm letting you go," I said. "I'm telling you to go and have fun and live your life and be happy. Let me deal with this without you hovering over me. We're over, OK? Accept that and leave me be."

"But you said you might consider us again, one day," he said, sadly.

"But I might not," I said gently, and as I said the words I felt tears filling my eyes at the thought of hurting him like this.

He stood up and took a couple of steps towards the edge of the river, his hands in his pockets. A flock of ducks sped over to him, quacking madly and paddling in circles, clearly expecting bread.

"I haven't got anything for you," he murmured to them.

I stood up and walked over to him. The quacking increased in volume.

"I hear you," he said, to me this time. "I understand you need space. I understand what has broken our relationship, and I understand it can't be fixed right now. But you have to understand I can't help hoping it will be fixed eventually."

"I do understand," I said softly, leaning my head against his upper arm. "That's why I'm walking away from you. I can't stand by and watch you wait for something that might never happen. I can't do that to you because I love you too much to hurt you like that."

He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him, and I sighed.

"You're in America for the next few weeks anyway," I reminded him. "It's not like we would even see each other."

"I'm home for a week now," he said. "And then I'm back at the end of September for the final part of the tour."

The ducks had started to lose interest in us, and were swimming away one by one, casting glances of distaste in our direction.

"Whatever happens, I still want to be friends, eventually," he said, quietly. "I'm not trying to push you into that decision either, I'm just letting you know how I feel."

I nodded, and we began to walk back in the direction of the car park.

"Have you got any plans while you're at home this week?" I asked.

"Probably catch up with my old friends, eat too much of my mum's cooking, take the piss out of Gemma," he responded.

I smiled. "Is she in Holmes Chapel this week too?"

"She'll be staying for a few days," he said. "She mentioned she was hoping to meet up with you in London one weekend."

"Yeah, it's been tricky with one thing and another," I said. "And I won't deny it's still a bit raw."

"Yeah," he said softly.

We walked in silence for a bit, avoiding eye contact with people passing by, and managed to make it back to the car park without Harry being recognised.

"I should get going," I said, awkwardly.

"Future friends, maybe, one day?" he said, timidly.

I gave him a soft smile. "Future friends, maybe, one day," I confirmed. "But I meant what I said about giving me space. Let me work my feelings out myself."

"Deal," he said, and he held his hand out to me.

I ignored it and stepped up to him, putting my arms around him and resting my head on his shoulder as his arms encircled me and crushed me against his chest.

He let me go sooner than I was expecting, and I stepped away from him again.

"So, I guess this is goodbye," I said.

He looked at me and seemed momentarily lost in thought.

"I need to remember that," he said.

"Remember what?" I asked, confused, but he shook his head slightly, and smiled at me.

"Nothing. Take care, Jess."

"You too," I said, sincerely.

He smiled at me, and then at the same time we turned away from each other and walked to our cars. Harry pulled out of his space before me, and gave me the most breathtaking smile as he passed me. I smiled back, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt like I'd finally got through to him, and this road to recovery might not be quite as bumpy as I had expected.

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

Thanks for bearing with me, and sorry this update is late! It ended up being quite long as there was a lot of stuff that needed to be said, but I hope you like it. Thoughts??

No, this isn't the end of the book! I promise I will give you plenty of warning when the story is nearing the end. I have the sequence of events roughly planned out in my head right up to the end but I'd say we're only about halfway through so far. This book will probably be a similiar length to No Control.

Next update should be Saturday :) Thanks so much to everyone reading and voting xxx