I didn't bother to ring Karen back. I decided she could wait, and called Callie instead and asked her to meet me on Oxford Street, as I needed to find a present for Harry's birthday. We met in the Topshop café at midday, and spent the first hour discussing the article about Harry and Pandora over a latte.

"Have you heard from her?" Callie asked, scooping froth from the top of her drink delicately onto her spoon.

"Who, Pandora?" I asked incredulously, and she nodded. "No - why would I?"

"I thought she might have apologised or something," she shrugged. "I mean, Kendall's going to, isn't she?" (I had already told her about Kendall's discomfort over the now-named Yacht of Despair.)

"Pandora has nothing to apologise for," I reasoned. "Neither does Kendall, really. They're just caught up in the whole media charade."

"I can tell you're not happy about it," Callie challenged, raising an eyebrow at me knowingly. "Look at the expression on your face. You look like a bulldog chewing a wasp."

She cackled as I flicked an empty sugar sachet at her and then looked down at my coffee with a sigh.

"Spill," she demanded, sitting up straight. "Something's on your mind. What is it?"

I hesitated before answering. "This whole Pandora episode bothered me more than it should," I sighed. "I'm inwardly seething every time I think about it, but I can't work out why."

"Well you're probably at the end of your tether," she offered. "It's the latest in a long line of this type of story. I'm not having a dig!" she added hastily, holding both hands up in surrender as I frowned at her impatiently. "I promise! I just mean, the constant bullshit is bound to take its toll on you eventually. You're only human, babe. You're not Superwoman."

"I'd love to get my hands on the source who fed Dan Wootton the story," I glowered, and she gave me a confused look.

"What do you mean, fed him the story?"

"It said in the article there was a source," I said, struggling to keep my voice level, but she just looked at me impassively.

"Um, Jess, I know I'm not as experienced as you when it comes to dealing with this stuff, but doesn't it always say that, when stories like this are leaked? I thought it was just something they put in to make it sound plausible. I mean, Dan Wootton could email himself and call it a source, if he wanted to."

"So you don't think anyone told the press?" I asked her.

"Well, not unless it was one of Pandora's friends," she replied. "But why would they bother? Why would anyone bother?"

This made sense.

"Would Karen know?" Callie asked. "Harry's manager? I reckon she could find out the source, if there really was one. She seems to be able to part the fucking Red Sea, if she's in the right mood. Why don't you ring her and ask her?"

"That's not a bad idea," I mused, thinking back to Karen's voicemail from earlier. "I think I just might do that."

I beamed at Callie and she clinked her latte glass against mine with a look of satisfaction and triumph.

"So do you have any ideas for what to get Harry for his birthday?" she asked, and I grimaced.

"Not really. He's so bloody hard to buy for, and I'm broke thanks to Christmas."

"You did sort of go overboard with the reckless spending," she agreed.

"Well I had to get him something good, didn't I?" I defended. "Especially after your tip off. Thanks for that, by the way. I owe you one."

She shrugged. "It's cool. I didn't really do much. He came up with the idea himself, and I just said I thought you would love it."

"Well, he's now set the bar hasn't he," I grumbled. "And after the amazingly thoughtful birthday presents, the pressure is on."

"You don't have to spend money to be thoughtful," she reasoned. "You know him better than anyone. I'm sure you could think up something deep and meaningful without spending a fortune."

"One thing I do know, is that I'm not going to find inspiration sitting here," I announced, draining the last of my coffee and getting to my feet. "Come on. The whole of London awaits."

We pulled our coats on and after a quick browse in Topshop (it would have been rude not to) we headed back out onto Oxford Street in the direction of Selfridges. I spent forty five minutes in the fragrance section testing out different aftershaves before settling on a musky, fresh cologne that was very Harry, and then headed to the clothing department and browsed the extravagantly patterned shirts, in search of one that would match Harry's taste and personality. 

I then dragged Callie to the lingerie department where she helped me pick out a beautiful ice blue satin and lace matching set (which technically was a present for Harry, in a roundabout way). After parting with a couple of hundred pounds (which earnt me another knowing yet tolerant look from Callie) and leaving with the underwear, aftershave, shirt and a beautiful leather-bound notebook that I thought Harry could use for jotting down song lyrics, we headed back on the tube and spent the evening with a takeaway and wine, looking up exes and old school friends on Facebook, stalking James and his new girlfriend's profile, and watching the music channels on Sky. 

I eventually called Karen back on Sunday afternoon, while making a start on my packing for LA the following weekend. I put my phone on loudspeaker and laid it on the bed while I stood in front of the wardrobe and contemplated which outfits still fitted me after eating myself into a coma most days over Christmas and New Year, and which I wouldn't mind being papped in, should it happen. Karen spent the first couple of minutes of the call apologising profusely for the Pandora story that she hadn't been able to stop, but confirmed what Callie had suggested: that there was no concrete source, and the idea that Harry had been "in contact with Pandora" was simply speculation, and technically accurate as he had obviously spoken to her previously to invite her round to the house that evening. Harry had already spoken of his approval that Kendall served as a welcome distraction from us as a couple, and the Pandora article simply added fuel to that particular fire, taking the heat well and truly off us.

Even so, I still couldn't shake the quietly burning fury that bubbled away like lava in the pit of my stomach every time I was reminded of the latest rumours, and several times that week I caught myself staring into space at work, imagining scenarios that involved reckless moves such as tweeting a picture of me kissing Harry, or pouncing on him at some random red carpet event in front of a crowd of paparazzi, or even leaking my own story to the press, along with some incriminating pictures to shut everyone up about him and his supposed gaggle of women. Of course, never in a million years would I ever do something to compromise his privacy like this, but for once I enjoyed dreaming them up; taking more and more pleasure as each scenario ventured further into the realms of ridicule.

Harry's driver, Paul, took me to work on Friday morning, and then picked me up at five o'clock on the dot to take me straight to the airport. My suitcase was in the boot, along with my hand luggage, and I had brought a change of clothes for the flight. When I got to the check in desk I wasn't surprised in the slightest to discover that Harry had upgraded me to First Class, and I enjoyed a glass of complimentary champagne in the British Airways private lounge while I waited for my flight. When I landed at LAX a black Range Rover was waiting for me, and I recognised the concourse from the videos on Twitter of Harry looking for his car the week before. A couple of paparazzi were lurking, and halfheartedly snapped a few shots of me as the driver took my bags and helped me into the back seat where Harry was waiting, wearing a large hat and a pair of sunglasses. The paps realised a second too late who they had just missed, and began shouting and flashing as I closed the door and the car began to move. I grabbed Harry's shoulders impulsively and pulled him towards me, planting a kiss on his lips before we had fully driven off, and causing him to pull back in surprise.

His lips curled into a smile as he looked at me questioningly, and then kissed me back. "Lucky for you the windows are flash-proof," he murmured when we eventually broke apart.

"Are they?" I asked, frowning.

His confusion showed on his face. "Yeah - that's how I got away with being in the back unnoticed. I didn't think you'd want the world to know you'd arrived in LA."

"I don't," I said halfheartedly, but his frown deepened.

"Wait - did you want us to be seen just then?" he asked incredulously.

"No of course not," I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest, my heart thudding strangely as I silently questioned my own actions. "I guessed they would be darkened windows."

Harry stared at me for a moment, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, and said nothing. I took a deep breath and looked out of the window at the airport traffic, wondering how differently this would have played out if the windows hadn't been tinted and flash-proof; if the paps had known I was arriving and Harry would be meeting me. We would probably still be getting mobbed now. The idea gave me an unfamiliar flutter in my stomach.

His hand found mine on the seat and entwined our fingers, squeezing mine gently with his, and I turned my head to look at him.

"Miss me?" he asked.

"Of course," I smiled. "This last week has dragged impossibly without you."

He pulled my arm so my body leaned towards him, and he kissed me again softly. "I've missed you too. I've been counting down the days until you arrived. Are you tired?"

"Yeah," I yawned. "I tried not to sleep too much on the flight."

"You can go straight to bed when we get home if you want," he offered, and as I kissed him again I slipped my hand onto his leg and squeezed his thigh suggestively.

"Oh baby yeah," I murmured into his mouth, softly.

"Hey, that's my line," he chided as his lips broke into a smile against mine.

"Take it up with my solicitor," I quipped, curling my hand around the back of his neck so our kiss intensified.

"Someone's sassy," he remarked, and I ran my tongue gently along his bottom lip as his arms slipped around me, holding my body against his so I could feel the steady beat of his heart. "I can't wait to get you home," he whispered, so quietly I barely heard him, but the gleam in his eye told me I hadn't imagined his words.

We arrived at Harry's just after eight in the evening, and as soon as we walked in the door Anne enveloped me in a huge hug, and Robin began dishing up dinner. We sat down to eat, and they filled me in on the previous week, from the property that Harry had been viewing, to Jeff's birthday party.

"I see everyone made a big deal out of Kendall leaving the party early," Harry said, with a roll of his eyes, and I looked up at him, a knot forming in my stomach.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"She wasn't feeling well, so she didn't stay long," he explained. "But the rumour is that she left because she was upset, and we're on the rocks after my fling with Pandora." He set his cutlery down and drew quotation marks in the air to punctuate the word "fling." 

I forced a smile, and set my knife and fork down too, my appetite suddenly gone. "So everyone still thinks you and Kendall are together?" I asked, casually. 

"Who knows?" he shrugged, picking up his fork again and tucking into his dinner. "Anyone close to Kendall wouldn't believe for a second that she would tolerate infidelity."

"Apparently that's just me," I huffed sarcastically, before I could stop myself.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, and I felt heat rising in my face as I realised what I had just said.

"Oh - God - I'm so sorry," I apologised, mortified, as Harry stared at me with a hurt expression. "I didn't mean... I wasn't referring to... to that... I just -"

"It's fine," Harry mumbled, looking down at his plate.

"No, it's not, that came out all wrong," I said, desperately. "I didn't mean you and Sara -"

Harry's fork clattered onto his plate and he stood up abruptly. "Anyone want another drink?"

"Harry," I began as he walked over to the fridge, his back to me. "Please... that isn't what I meant. It isn't," I insisted, looking helplessly around the table at Anne and Robin, who exchanged uncomfortable glances. 

"So, what have you two got planned this week?" Anne asked, changing the subject and smiling softly at me.

I looked back at Harry, who was uncorking a bottle of white wine without turning round. I waited for him to answer, but when it became evident he wasn't going to, I turned back to Anne, feeling tears of frustration springing to my eyes.

"I, um, I don't know," I muttered. "Have you got any plans?"

"Well, I think Harry's planning a low-key meal for his birthday, with all of us and a few friends," she offered.

"Sounds good," I said lamely, and watched as Harry finally turned round and made his way back to the table without looking at me, and topped up everyone's glasses. It was a further five minutes of stilted conversation before everyone had finished eating, and Anne stood up to clear the plates away. Harry picked up his own plate and carried it over to the sink, where Anne firmly removed it from his hands and said, "I think you need to talk to Jess."

He let his arms flop to his sides in resignation, and I slipped around the edge of the table to the doorway, watching him hesitantly. "Harry," I said softly. He walked over to me and led me out of the room and into the lounge, where he stood awkwardly with his arms folded, avoiding my gaze.

"I'm so sorry," I said meekly. "I didn't mean that as a dig at you, I swear."

"What did you mean then?" he asked, his tone blunt and abrupt.

"I meant that if you're supposedly having a fling with Pandora it would therefore be me tolerating infidelity, not Kendall, because I'm your girlfriend, not her. But it isn't even infidelity, because it didn't happen."

He made eye contact with me for the first time since my insensitive comment, and I was pleased to see his face relaxed a little as he surveyed me. 

"Harry, I would never bring that stuff up and use it against you in that way," I insisted. "Surely you know that."

"I do know that," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with the fingers of one hand. "It just took me by surprise, that's all. It's the one thing I regret most in my whole life. I wasn't expecting it to be brought up at dinner in front of my mum."

"It wasn't," I said, angrily, putting my hands on my hips. "You brought up the fact that the whole world thinks you're in a relationship with your ex, and that you're some kind of serial cheater, unable to resist any pretty female who crosses your path!"

"No pretty females cross my path," he said, calmly, reaching forward to me and taking my hands off my hips and bringing them around his waist instead. "No one compares to you, in any way. I am not in a relationship with my ex, and I am not cheating on anyone, because I am in love with you."

My anger slowly ebbed away at his touch and I sighed softly and closed my eyes.

"I know," I muttered, as he rested his forehead against mine. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. And I'm sorry for making you think I was bringing up the past."

"I'm sorry for throwing a strop over it," he replied, ducking his head down to plant a soft kiss on my lips. "I know you wouldn't rake all that up again. Just ignore me, I was being oversensitive."

I rested my cheek on his chest and pressed my lips together, fighting back tears at this almost-argument, and trying to swallow the fury I felt yet again at the idea of Harry being liked to other women.

"Baby, what's this really all about?" he asked softly, and I squeezed him harder as tears leaked from under my eyelids. "You've been weird about the Pandora story since the beginning. You say you're OK, but I don't believe you."

He released me from his arms and tilted my chin up with his finger so I was forced to look into his eyes. "I don't like it," I admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment at my own pettiness.

"Don't like what?" he asked, his eyes flicking between mine, his forehead creased in an adorable frown that made my bones feel strangely weak and rubbery.

"I don't like people saying you hooked up with Pandora," I said, sulkily, aware of how much of a brat I sounded. "I'm not directing this at you, but I hate the idea of the rest of the world thinking she had you, when she didn't - you were with me. And now you tell me they're saying Kendall left Jeff's party early because she's so distraught over you cheating on her, but you didn't, and she isn't even your girlfriend - I am!" My voice was rising with every word, and I stepped away from Harry and ran my fingers through my hair furiously. "Everyone's gossiping about you like you're public property, like it's their right to comment, to speculate, to have an opinion on your love life, and all I want to do is set them straight, and shout from the top of the nearest mountain that every single one of them is wrong, because you are my boyfriend, and if anyone should be jealous about all these rumours, it's ME!"

I was breathing hard by the time I finished shouting these last words at Harry. His eyes had slowly widened as my voice had risen both in volume and pitch, and when I finally fell silent and crossed my arms across my chest, I was surprised to his lips twisting into a faint smirk, before it disappeared and he regarded me with concern.

"And are you jealous?" he asked softly.

"YES!" I shouted. "Yes, I am jealous! I feel sick at the thought of you with someone else, and it didn't even happen! It's getting so fucking repetitive, Harry! And at first I found it amusing, that the whole world was fooled, and we could sneak around without anyone really knowing about us properly, but now..."

"Now what?" he asked, and I was surprised to see a smile breaking on his face, and his eyes dancing.

"Now, I don't want them thinking you're with Kendall, or Pandora, or anyone else."

"And you want to shout from the rooftops that I'm with you?" he beamed.

"Yes!" I exploded in frustration. "Yes, I do! I'm tired of it, of all of it. I'm tired of hiding away, I'm tired of pretending that we're just friends, I'm tired of not being able to hold your hand and kiss you in public in case someone sees. I want everyone to know that you're mine, and mine only."

My heart was pounding, my hands were trembling and my breathing accelerated. 

"Well," he grinned. "Finally."

"What do you mean, finally?" I asked, momentarily thrown.

"I mean, I've been wanting us to go public for months."

My stomach flipped and I stared at him in shock. 

"Everything you've just said, about telling the world about us, about shutting everyone up... did you mean it?" he pressed.

I hesitated. I thought back to my little fantasies over the past week, to my irritation over the Pandora rumours and the Kendall cover, to my mental preparation of outfits to wear for being papped, and to my reckless move in the back of the car a couple of hours ago when I thought the paparazzi were watching. The idea of the world knowing about us no longer filled me with dread. I knew there would always be articles written about Harry, but by his own admission these would likely be approached differently if we were openly in a relationship. I was under no illusion that I would subsequently fall under a wave of media scrutiny, and no doubt be subject to all kinds of hate from some members of the One Direction fandom, but this was bound to happen anyway when we eventually went public. We were both in this for the long haul, and there was no logical reason to keep things under wraps any longer, now it was what we both wanted.

"Yes," I answered Harry, looking up at him confidently and nodding to punctuate my point. "Yes, I did mean it. I do mean it. I'm ready to go public. If.. if you are," I added hastily.

He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger and cocked his head to the side. "Are you doing this for the right reasons?"

I sighed. "I don't know. Define 'right reasons.'"

"I don't want you doing this because you feel you have to, or because you feel backed into a corner by the media, or because you're angry about these stories being written about me. It shouldn't be a knee-jerk reaction. Once it's done, it can never be undone."

"I admit I am angry about the stories," I acknowledged. "But this has been coming for a while now. I mean, we talked about it before Christmas, and we said we would wait until the time is right. Well, now it feels right. To me, anyway. Does it feel right to you?"

"I've wanted this since last summer," he smiled. "But I want you to consider how this will be perceived right at this moment. In the world's eyes: I was with Nadine last Christmas, hooked up with a fan on tour in February, hooked up with you in March, hooked up with another girl straight after while I was still on tour, before you took me back. Then I cheated on you with Sara, so you and I broke up, I then hooked up with Georgia Fowler before jumping into a relationship with Kendall this Christmas and New Year, hooked up with Pandora only last week, and then I go public with you? You will face a barrage of speculation, assumptions and probably public disgust. Are you ready to handle all of that, just for loving me?"

"Yes," I answered honestly, "I am. Because it will be the truth for a change; rather than more lies, pretending I'm not involved with you. I know the truth behind every girl you've just mentioned, and unless there is anyone else that might come out of the woodwork that I don't know about, I'm forearmed to deal with it. Is there anyone else?" I asked, although it seemed unnecessary to clarify this as I already knew the answer.

I wasn't prepared for the look of unease that flickered over Harry's face, or his hesitance before he answered.

"Harry?" I prompted, and he bit his lip nervously.

"Actually, there is something I need to tell you," he said softly. 

---***---

I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long for this update. I was hoping to get this book finished before Christmas but it doesn't look likely now as I've struggled to find ways of stringing the last few parts together, which zaps my motivation for writing sometimes when I can't make it flow properly. But thank you so much for the words of encouragement (even just 'UPDATE' makes me smile, to know you're all still into this book so much.) 

Thank you for 860+ votes on the last chapter... my eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw that! I am truly overwhelmed. Please keep tapping that little star at the end of each chapter to turn it yellow, it might mean nothing to you but it means everything to me :)

Such terribly, terribly sad news yesterday about Johannah Deakin... my heart is breaking for Louis and his family losing their mum at such a young age. I just hope everyone respects their privacy and allows them to come to terms with their loss and grief in their own time. Losing a parent is never easy, much less with the eyes of the world watching. Tonight's X Factor performance will be emotional 😢 xxx