Never thought I would be so glad to be on my way back to Germany. This weekend of hell that ended so abruptly as it started only brought my feet to shuffle faster back to schnitzel land.

I walk confidently towards the security gates. My nerves are unsteady. I still feel rattled by the conversation with Harry. My blood boils. I'm closing a chapter and turning the page to the next one.

When I go through the metal frame that scans for hidden objects in my body, I stand straighter. I can't wait to call my mother. She'll be proud of me. And, Emily! I must call Emily to give her my flight details for Munich.

I pass through the metal frame and gather at the end of the conveyor belt to collect my belongings. Harry is a distant memory now. I pick up my small bag and open it to retrieve my mobile so I can text Emily before calling mum. I type excitedly a message on WhatsApp while walking absentmindedly through the duty-free corridor while salespeople try to spray a range of perfumes in my face.

And, at that moment, the phone rings. It hasn't rung in three whole days. But it's now ringing. Not Emily. Nor my mother. And certainly not Harry.

His names flashes on my screen and my self-confidence disappears. Daniel. Daniel. Daniel. My phone screams his name.

I sigh. My pace reduces and I waver. Should I pick up?

"What do you want from him, exactly?"

Those words ring in my ears and bring me back to an even more distant past. I ignore his call, quickly text Emily the flight details and turn on the flight mode. Forget everything else. Focus on you, Natalie. I keep repeating to myself.

I sit in a cold chair, slumping, disheartened. Why do I have to go back to Germany? I look up at the electronic board. My flight to Munich is 20 minutes delayed. Great...

Maybe it's a sign I should not be going back to Germany. Not after what happened seven days ago when I met Ada. I feel torn. I don't want to stay back, but also I'm dreading what awaits me back in Munich.

I close my eyes and push Harry back to the surface. But not even my anger makes Daniel subside. My stomach roars. I clutch my hands to my stomach and frown. Go away, Lion!

I drown my eardrums with some music. But even the loudest of tones is not calming down my inner lion. I close my eyes and finally give in.

My memories flood with thoughts of that faithful Sunday. His smile and his sorrow. Us laying down by the embrace of the old oak tree and quipping enthusiastically. His invitation to the friends' party that I should have declined. And then she enters the picture. Her poise and grace. Her beauty. The way she said 'Meine Liebe'. Ada.

I don't know if the worst was not coming up with some sort of excuse to get away from the damn party, or that Daniel insisted I should go and that "Ada will tag along with us."

Whatever that means. How could it mean anything? I'm the friend that is a girl, not his girlfriend. I look up again at the clock and slump in my chair. Why am I overthinking this?

No. The worst was when I arrived at a party where I knew no one. Where Ada ensured, she kept Daniel at arm's length and that every time he gravitated towards me, that she would promptly steer him somewhere else. I ended up spending hours staring at my own two feet.

I stare for the four thousand time at the digital clock on the screen. Why are the seconds going so slowly?

No. I got it. My brain declares. The worst was when I was back in my apartment, about to curl into bed with a cup of tea and my notepad, and a knock at the door revealed Ada on the other side.

The worst was how she entered uninvited and looked around at the place as if I was the uninvited guest.

"You know, Daniel used to live here. Before he moved upstairs..." she grazed her slim fingers on the small kitchen counter. "I could tell you some stories."

I understand insinuation, especially of a sexual kind. Thanks Ada, for the offer of detailed sexual encounters with Daniel... but no, thank you.

"What do you want from him, exactly?"

And there it was. The seven words I still repeat incessantly. The question I have no answer to.

"Because he has a girlfriend. Me," she pointedly said, while staring me down with an icy glare.

"And I have a boyfriend," I respond sarcastically.

"Then act like it." Ava walked out of the apartment without even bothering to wait for my response.

Not like I had one to give, anyway.

My whole body trembled with her visit. I felt a jolt of energy coursing through my veins. Not the energy you feel when you just came back from a run, or after a sugary treat. This was nervous energy. My stomach rumbled, and I clutched at it. I was nervous about her presence, but even more with her words.

And that's when my instinct drew me to stupidity. In a flash, I texted Harry and asked if his invitation to come and visit was still open. And, two days later, he sends me a message saying he has tickets on hold for me. Typical Harry. Two days to reply, but when he does is with tickets ready to be purchased. Never mind if it suits my schedule...

I looked up to Markus that was typing furiously a report on his computer.

"If I ask for half a day on Friday, would that be okay?"

"Are you asking?" he counters without lifting his eyes from the screen.

"I guess. My boyfriend invited me to go to Scotland for the weekend. I would need to leave here a bit earlier to get to Cologne for a late flight, and will be back on Sunday."

"Okay."

I smile and type a message back to Harry, confirming the tickets he has on hold.

"Just one slight problem."

I lift my head, and my fingers stop mid through a sentence.

"Monday, you need to be in Munich. You're going to be there for one week."

"I am?" I replied with my mouth hanging open.

"Most of us are." Markus finally raised his head and smiled. "I was going to tell you in a minute, but you are kind of spoiling the surprise."

"What are we going to be doing there?"

Markus' eyes go back to his screen. "Will tell you in a bit all the details. Need to make sure these guys don't screw up more than they already have."

I chuckle. Markus was a really nice guy, unless you are slacking on your job, and right now, there were some guys in an advertising agency that were getting on his nerves and were about to meet his wrath.

"I need to tell Daniel to get your ticket from Scotland to Munich directly."

He says his name and my heart freezes. I barely saw him after Sunday. Ava kept him busy... Oh, yuck! I'm thinking of the damn kitchen counter again and her lingering fingers on it. I need to clean that counter. Scrub it clean. With bleach!

"Natalie?" Markus looks at me curiously.

"Yes?" I asked.

He chuckled. "I'll tell Daniel. Don't worry. Enjoy your time with your boyfriend."

Do I want him to tell anything to Daniel? I definitely don't want him to tell anything to Daniel. My inner voice responds.

"No. It's okay. I can ask him to book my ticket to Munich instead of here. It's his treat, anyway. I just need the ticket for the return here." I say it hopeful that Markus doesn't realise I don't want Daniel to know where I'm going.

Markus nodded and returned to his task. I texted Harry the details and sealed my fate.

"Der Flug Nummer 231 nach München wird jetzt am Gate 32A geboardet." The airport lady announces. "The flight number 231 with the destination to Munich is now boarding at gate 32A."

I get up and make my way towards the gate, with Harry resurfacing with every step.

Arriving at 23:47 in Edinburgh airport is already a cruel joke given the week that I had. From busy meetings preparing for our week in Munich where we were going to present our app and wearable device in a tech conference in the hopes to secure some funding, to actively avoiding Daniel, which was not a very hard task, when Ava was around. My week was hectic and a late flight is always tiresome.

All I wanted was a warm embrace from my boyfriend, a hot shower and a comfy bed.

But, I forgot this is Harry. And, instead, a middle-aged man with an Addison Lee sign bearing my name is the one that greets me at the airport. The same man who promptly takes me to a hotel in the city, where I spent my night alone, because my boyfriend was in London in a meeting that, and I quote, 'Took longer than I expected'. The single lined text message that greeted me thirty minutes after touchdown.

But that was not even the cruellest of jokes fate played. Although I wasn't happy with the reception, Harry's charm can always bring a smile to my face. The day spent together on Saturday was a classical demonstration of his old tricks working on me. Within the first twenty minutes of his arrival at the hotel, our fight was over even before it began.

We spent the day in the Scottish highlands, driving through beautiful scenery, with the most gorgeous lochs. He took me to my favourite spot, just by Lock Ness, called Dores beach. We were there during our first trip together to the Highlands and I loved soaking my feet in cold water. Harry can be the most romantic person in the world when he feels so inclined. And, with our feet soaking in the water, it was the place where he first said the three little words that bear such a weight to any new relationship. Taking me back to our place was part of his premeditated charm.

Upon our return to the hotel, he stood awkwardly by the room door. I turned away my back to select a change of clothes for the evening until I heard the oh so familiar, I'm about to give you some news you will not be happy about, clearing of the throat. I turn around and frown. What now?

"I actually need to get going," he says.

"Go where?" I immediately ask.

"I have to get home and change. There's this dinner at home with some of my dad's friends..."

"Okay, I'll come along." I know very well the invitation did not include me, but this was our weekend and he wouldn't dump me two times in a row. Right?

"Babe..."

He didn't need to say anything else. Every time Harry called me babe was to justify himself somehow or try to appease me with his charm. And every time it worked. Except this time it didn't. We descended to a long, overdue, old-fashioned lover spat. We question each other motives and the future of our relationship. I argued he is too focussed on the family business and point out that I've never even met his family While, he reminds me of how it never mattered before, and how I have changed since I left for Germany.

"How have I changed?" I raised my voice.

"You never cared about meeting my parents? You know how they are... why you're so obsessed now?"

"I'm not obsessed. I just don't understand when am I supposed to meet them as your girlfriend. That is what I am, right?"

"Of course you are. You know that." Harry paced back and forth and pulled his hair frustratedly. "You've met my sister."

My blood boils. "Are you serious right now? You realise I've left work early on Friday to be here with you over the weekend. I get left alone on the night I arrive, and now I'm getting dumped again..."

"I'll come back later..."

"You'll come back later? At what time?"

He rubs his neck. "I don't know. When the party is over. I guess around midnight?"

"I'm not your booty call, Harry!" I screamed.

After a gruesome forty-five minutes of raised voices and the airing of old grievances, our bodies are spent and our soul is weary. Silence befalls the room and I utter the words we both been dreading to voice out.

"This is not working out." I said, with emotion clouding my voice.

I'm ending my longest relationship. My first serious boyfriend. The person who has been my closest friend for the last two years.

He stands still for a moment. "So this is it? That's how you want to leave it?"

I shrug. "I guess it is."

His face contorts angrily, but he says nothing else. We have said enough. Harry gives me one last look before leaving the hotel room.

I sit on the bed and wait for an ounce of emotion to take over. For my stomach pet to roar in anguish. For a flood of tears to stream on my face. But all I can feel is anger. Angry that Harry toyed with my emotions. Upset that he always put his work before us. Annoyed that I never even met his family, although he has been to my small apartment several times in the two short years of our relationship.

That night, I twist and turn in bed anxiously. The fight keeps playing in my mind. I keep looking at my phone, waiting for a message from him. But I get silence. The next morning I wake up, buzzing. The anger still is there but is now accompanied by an unexpected overwhelming feeling of empowerment. I let go of a relationship that has no resemblance of a future and start considering my own options for my future.

And, with a spring in my step, I make my way to the airport. Until another phone call rattles my brain and toys with my emotions...

Two hours in the air and I feel again unsteady, as if someone just pulled a rug from beneath my feet. I bite my nails while looking through the window, trying to avoid thinking of him. Thinking of them, really. My heart does a somersault with the landing announcement and I find some inner peace at the thought that at least I would get to spend some time with Emily, that is also in Munich.

I walk mechanically through long corridors, passport control and baggage reclaim. My phone is as good as dead, even though I keep trying to connect it. The damned roaming is acting up.

Once I have my luggage, I make my way outside. The whooshing sound allows me to enter the space where people stand anxiously awaiting others to cross those same doors. I browse through the bodies to see if I can spot my Kiwi friend anywhere. I see people holding signs and chuckle at the thought of another sign waiting for me. Another quick glance to the crowd and I cannot find Emily anywhere.

I take my phone and check if the service has been restored. A stream of messages pours through on WhatsApp from Emily. I slide my fingers down to open the notification but get startled by a hand that touches my left shoulder.

I turn around and see him. Daniel. There goes all my best laid plans out the window.