I almost wished I hadn't bothered dragging myself into a three-hour Music Business lecture the next morning. After bagging a seat right at the back of the lecture hall, I managed to nap through the entire first half. Kris was nowhere to be seen. I guess he'd had a late night after getting home.

When we returned after break for the second part of the most boring talk I'd ever been subjected to, I decided it was time to take the bull by the horns.

Digging my phone out from the bottom of my read leather satchel, I tucked it between my thighs where it couldn't be seen and opened a new tab.

Noah Hartnett tattoo Arla Breeze

Even typing those five words into the search bar made me feel sick. The remnants of unidentifiable orange alcohol still trickling through my digestive system didn't help.

Google was lightning fast at showing me more results than I wanted. Clicking the first link with a trembling finger, my stomach dropped further at the sight of the image jumping out from the top of the article.

A photo of Noah on stage, with his arms raised high waving to the crowd, showed the bare flesh of his midriff as his white T-shirt lifted up. Just above his hipbone, the small black heart tattoo was clearly visible. Exactly the same as the one peeking out from under the strap of Arla Breeze's dress, in a side-by-side photo snapped by a waiting paparazzi as she climbed out of a car.

After skimming the article, which questioned the meaning behind their secret symbol, I quickly locked my phone and dropped it back into my bag. I didn't want to know any more. I didn't want to know why the hell the man I loved had a matching tattoo with another woman. A woman he'd been spending a hell of a lot more time with than me recently.

By the time I got home, the knot within me had grown almost to the point of explosion. My head was swimming with thoughts of Noah and Arla, getting closer than I'd ever imagined. Images of them making love were flashing across my mind. The way she had looked at him on stage replayed over and over again. I needed to speak to him, to find out the truth.

My hands were unsteady as I dialled Noah's number. Within three rings, he picked up. He sounded happy.

"Abi!" he began, "I was just thinking about you. I was going to give you a ring but looks like you beat me to it."

My mouth gaped open to speak, but no words came out.

"You there?" he asked.

I cleared my throat. "I'm here."

More silence.

"Is everything okay?" Noah's voice had changed, tinged with an edge of concern.

I took a deep breath, held it for a second, then – like ripping off a plaster – I decided to just go for it.

"Why do you and Arla Breeze have matching tattoos?"

There was a split second before Noah let out a laugh. "Because we're having an affair and I thought this would be the best way to tell you."

The air rushed out of me like I had been punched in the chest. I could taste sick in the back of my throat as the room started to close in on me.

"Abi," he continued, "I'm joking, you know?"

Without thinking or responding, I hung up. The phone dropped from my hand onto the bed as I sat shaking against the headboard. Within five seconds, it lit up again with Noah's name and face. I let it ring out, but he called again immediately.

After four unanswered calls, I eventually picked up.

"Please don't hang up," he started, "I was just joking. I'm sorry, it was poor taste."

My voice was nothing more than a weak crack. "Why?"

"Abi, we all got them," he sighed. "After the show in Budapest we met up with Arla and her team as a 'get to know you' thing before the Paris gigs. We all drank a skinful and ended up playing truth or dare. A pretty extreme version, really, which ended up in me, the boys and Arla all piling into a backstreet tattoo parlour getting the softest design we could agree on."

"So you all just decided to get the same tattoo for shits and giggles?" I said quietly. "And you expect me to believe that when the stories are all claiming it's a secret symbol between you and your new lover?"

"She's not my lover, Abi. She's a workmate."

"Well, we all know what you like to do with your workmates."

The words came out harsher than I'd expected.

"Bringing it back to that old chestnut?" Noah asked, his tone becoming flat. "Even after all this time, you still think I'm messing around like that?"

I ran my palm against my forehead as I scrunched my eyes closed and dropped my head back on the pillow. "What am I supposed to think, Noah?"

"That I'm not who I used to be," he said. "We've been through all of this so many times, Abi. I've committed myself to you, to our relationship. I can't help it if I have to live this lifestyle. You don't understand the pressure."

"The pressure of leading a double life?" I snapped. "You've had plenty of experience there, don't you think?"

Noah let out a frustrated groan. "Why are you being like this?" he asked. "I've told you the truth about the tattoo, I've tried my best all these months to keep you involved in everything we're doing but it's still not good enough, is it?"

I raised my voice in exasperation. "No. No it's not."

"Fine. Maybe it's just me that's not good enough then. Maybe we should just forget this whole thing. I thought you loved me, Abi, but you clearly aren't ready to trust me yet so what's the point?"

I didn't know what to say in response.

"You can't even come up an answer." I could hear the hurt in Noah's voice, but I still couldn't come up with any words of my own.

Following a few seconds of silence, he spoke again. Quiet and trembling. "Okay. I get it. I'm sorry for ever hurting you. I only wanted to love you, Abi. You made me feel safe for the first time in my life. I'm sorry I can't give you whatever it is you need."

Come on, Abi, speak. Just speak, you idiot.

Nothing.

"I'll never give up on loving you," Noah said quietly. "Whatever happens, you're the other half of my fucked up heart."

I held the phone to my ear for at least a minute after he hung up. The tears that began to stream from my eyes soaked the screen with wet warmth against my cheek but I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't face the reality of living my life without him in it.

For the second time in my life, I had just lost the man I loved the most.