I don't know how long I lay on the bathroom floor after I finished being sick. The sound of the door buzzer broke the silence that had descended since I'd ended the phonecall to Harry.

Callie. Thank God. I pulled myself to my feet, quickly rinsed my mouth with mouthwash and staggered to the door. I buzzed her in and opened the door to my flat. She took the stairs two at a time and I felt my face crumpling as she looked at me with undisguised pity.

"Oh God," she said, pulling me into a hug as I broke down. "It's true then?"

I nodded against her shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Jess," she breathed.

She manoeuvred me back inside and steered me into the lounge to the sofa. I flopped to the side and buried my head in the cushion and heard her disappear into the kitchen, then the sounds of mugs being pulled out of cupboards and the kettle boiling.

A couple of minutes later she came into the room with two cups of tea and I sat up and wiped my eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked softly.

"I hate him."

"Okayyy, good. That's good. You should fucking hate him. What the hell happened?"

"He shagged her - that fucking slut Sara Sampaio. I hate him. I hate her."

"He admitted it?"

"He rang me and told me," I said, with a huge sniff.

"He rang you up and told you? You mean he just came out with it? 'I shagged someone else'?" Callie looked shocked.

"Sort of," I said. "He was crying and he asked if I'd seen Twitter, and he just started apologising. And first of all I just laughed it off, I thought he was upset that I'd be thinking the worst of him, but it turns out he'd actually done it...." I broke off as my voice wavered again. "I can't believe it, Callie," I wailed. "I finally trusted him. I thought he loved me. I'm so fucking stupid."

"Oh, babe," she said, sliding along the sofa to put her arms around me. "Why did he do it? Did he say?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. "He said she came back to their hotel."

"He took her back to his hotel?!" she spluttered.

"No... I don't know... he didn't say."

"Did she throw herself at him?"

"I don't know," I said miserably.

"Didn't you ask?" Callie wondered.

"I was too busy yelling at him. He just kept apologising and saying he loved me."

"He actually had the balls to ask you to take him back after this?" Callie said, her eyes narrowed.

"No - he didn't ask. He didn't even try and fight for us. I told him I couldn't forgive him and he said he knew I wouldn't. He didn't challenge it, or try and change my mind. He just kept saying sorry."

"He didn't even beg for forgiveness?!" Callie said, her voice rising.

"I guess he knew there would be no point. I'm done, Cal. There's no going back."

"That's no excuse!" she practically shouted. "He should have been on his fucking knees begging! After the shit he's put you through - "

"He hasn't put me through any shit," I sobbed. "I did it to myself."

"I can't believe you're defending him."

"I'm not," I heaved. "But he hadn't done anything up to now to make me doubt him. It was all in my head. I can't hang him for my own insecurities."

She shook her head at me. "He's a dick. Look what he's done to you. He's pond scum, and you can't let him drag you down."

Callie rubbed my back for a minute while I cried into my hands again (mostly over the reference she had unknowingly made to their unreleased song), and I looked up as my phone vibrated on the arm of the sofa. It was Calvin.

Callie grabbed it and answered it, and I shook my head at her.

"Calvin? It's Callie... yeah, she doesn't want to talk... yeah it's true... no... no she won't want you to do that..."

"Tell him to keep quiet!" I said, loud enough for Calvin to hear down the phone. "I don't want any more attention than what I'm already going to get. I'm staying silent."

"Did you hear that?" Callie asked tentatively down the phone. "I know... I know she could, but she won't... I know... Yeah I'll get her to call you when she's up to it. Don't do anything, please, Calvin. Let her make that decision... OK... bye."

"Let me guess," I said. "Calvin wants to attack him on Twitter, Facebook, or any other social media platform he has access to, and then go and find him in person and break his legs."

"Spot on."

I sighed.

"You know, you don't have to take this lying down, Jess," Callie began. "You could have him for this - the papers would be all over it. You could tell the world what a piece of shit he really is."

"No," I said firmly.

"You don't have to protect him -"

"I do. I promised him I would never sell a story, and I won't go back on my word."

"But he broke his promises, and your trust. And your heart into the bargain."

"Yes but if he were just a regular guy I wouldn't go to the media about it, would I? It's not fair to use his fame against him in that way. I'm not going to embarrass him."

"But he's embarrassed you!"

"I know," I said, grimly. "And the media will be all over it anyway. He'll be getting slammed for it, but I'm not adding fuel to the fire and exposing our private stuff. It's not fair to him."

"You're too nice," she said softly.

"A mug, you mean?"

"No. You're a good person, Jess. I wouldn't be this calm if it were me in this situation."

"I'm not calm inside, believe me," I said, feeling my bottom lip wobbling again. "But fundamentally I haven't changed. And I'm not selling my story. End of."

We sat in silence for a few moments and I picked up my mug of tea and sipped it slowly.

"I just don't get this whole thing," Callie said quietly. "Why would he do it?"

"I don't know," I said, feeling the lump forming in the back of my throat again.

"Did you ask him why?"

"I can't remember. I guess not."

"Don't you want to know?"

"Yes. No. Yes of course I do. I want to know every little detail but I don't know if I can take it. I can't take listening to his tears while I'm trying to get my head around it."

"I think you've let him off lightly. If it were me I would have made him explain himself, made him squirm. He fucking deserves it."

A new wave of anger was building. How dare he do this to me? And Callie was right, I should have got the full story out of him. I didn't know any details but suddenly I wanted to, even though I knew I would only use them to torture myself once Callie had left.

"You're right," I said furiously. "I deserve answers."

I picked my phone up but before I could unlock it, it lit up with a call from a mobile number I didn't recognise. I stared at it for a moment and then answered it.

"Jess?" came a vaguely familiar voice. "It's Karen from Modest Management here."

"Oh, hello," I said unenthusiastically. I didn't need to ask 'what do you want?' - my tone did that for me.

"How are you? I believe Harry has spoken to you and, uh, broken the news."

"Yes," I said warily.

"How are you feeling?"

What hell was this?

"As you'd expect," I said. I wasn't about to start spilling my guts to Karen. Why was she bothered how I was feeling? I'd been under the impression she had a heart of stone.

"You poor thing," she said, softly. "You must be a mess right now."

"Ummm..."

"I just want you to know we're all here for you. If you want to talk to anyone just let me know. I can arrange anything you want. You don't have to go through this by yourself."

What?!

"Er, ok. Thanks."

"You know, Harry's devastated over this," she began.

"Right," I said. If this was some pathetic attempt from Harry to warm me up to forgiveness it was not going to work.

"He's had a tough couple of months, you know? They all have. When Zayn left it rocked them - really, it did. Harry more than the others I think -"

"I know," I interrupted. "He's talked to me about it. I know how he feels about all that."

"Oh. He talked to you about the band?" Karen sounded surprised.

"When he wanted to," I told her. "I never asked him, but he chose to confide in me. Why is this relevant?"

There was a short pause.

"I just want you to understand the impact the last few months have had on Harry. He's had enough upheaval lately, and it's not over yet. He's not in a good place right now and anything else might just tip him over the edge-"

"Woah woah, hold on," I interrupted again. "What do you mean, he's not in a good place right now? He was fine last time I saw him."

"I just mean he's had a lot to cope with. I don't want anything else to upset him. The band is so important to him - to all of them. They all take negative press to heart."

It finally clicked.

"So let me get this straight," I said, unable to stop my voice from rising. "You're calling me to tell me that Harry's fragile and doesn't need any more stress at the moment."

"Exactly."

"And why do you think I need to know that right now?"

Karen didn't answer.

"Shall I tell you why I think you think I need to know that right now?" I said, my voice trembling. "I think you're shit scared I'm going to the media with my heartbreak story, and this call is all about damage limitation. Am I right?"

"No - no I just wanted to make sure you're OK," Karen replied, and I was happy to hear a slight trip in her voice.

"Bull. Shit," I snapped. "How dare you ring me and feed me come crap about being concerned about my welfare when all you're trying to do it protect One Direction's fucking image?!"

"It's my job, Jess," Karen snapped back. "I have to protect them. They don't need any more scandal. Zayn, Louis, and now Harry - "

"You have got a fucking nerve," I breathed. "You think I want the world to know Harry couldn't keep it in his pants on his one night away from me? I certainly won't be speaking to anyone, like I told you last time. And it's not just about me - I promised Harry I never would, and I don't break promises. I have morals, you see. And a heart. Unlike you, sitting in your office with your business suit, not a hair out of place, concerned only about what the media might be printing. Don't you dare ring me again, or I might just change my mind."

I pulled my phone away from ear and hung up before Karen could reply.

"Who was that?!" Callie asked, her eyes wide.

"That," I spat, unlocking the screen and scrolling to Harry's number, "was Karen from Modest - Harry's management. Wanting to make sure I wasn't going to sell my story to the media."

"What the fuck..," Callie breathed.

I swiped his name and lifted my phone back to my ear.

"What are you doing now?" she asked, her eyes like saucers. She was literally on the edge of her seat.

"I'm calling Harry."

To my intense fury, Harry didn't answer. I hung up and tried again, but it rang out to his voicemail, and on my third attempt it went to voicemail without even ringing.

"He's turned his phone off!" I exploded.

"Where is he now?" Callie asked.

"Still in New York, I presume. But he'll be flying out soon."

"Maybe that's why he's switched it off?" she suggested. "Maybe he'll text you when he's in the air?"

I spent half an hour alternating between pacing and crying, and then made another couple of attempts to call Harry, but his phone rang the first time, and then went straight to voicemail the second time.

"He's avoiding me," I said furiously. "How fucking dare he, after what he's done."

I felt like the wind had been well and truly taken out of my sails. I had worked myself up to demand an explanation from him, and had been determined to make him relive it all over again, no matter how much he cried. And now he wasn't even answering his phone.

Was he with her? I couldn't bear to think about that right now.

I stared out the window for a few minutes, and then opened up my phone, scrolled to Louis' name, and pressed Call.

I tapped my foot furiously while it rang, and then Louis's voice answered a nervous, "Hello?"

"Louis? It's Jess," I said, thankful my voice was steady.

"Hi, love," he said. "You ok..?"

"No, and you know why," I said bluntly. "Is Harry with you? The fucking shit isn't answering his phone."

Louis gave a nervous laugh. "No, he's still in New York. He flies out in a couple of hours."

"You've spoken to him then?" I demanded.

"Yeah, just now. He's... he's in a bad way."

"Good!" I shouted. "So he fucking should be. Why won't he answer my calls?"

Louis hesitated. "Look, Jess, I really can't get involved in this. Harry's my friend, yeah?"

"I'm not asking you to get involved. I Just want to talk to Harry since he dropped this shit on me. But he keeps switching his phone off."

"I know. He said you'd been trying to call. I told him to answer."

"So why isn't he?! Is he with her - that slag of a model?"

I could tell Louis was trying to contain a laugh. "No, love, he's not. He's not with her. He's devastated."

"I need answers from him, Louis," I said, and I could hear my voice wobbling.

"I know. I agree you deserve that."

"I've had Karen on the phone checking I'm not going to sell my fucking story," I told him. "Tell him to get her to back off. She's got no right ringing me."

"I'm not surprised she's called you," Louis sighed. "Harry wouldn't let you sign an NDA would he?"

"A what?"

"NDA. Non-disclosure agreement. She'll be slowly turning grey right now. She's on a tight rope at the moment."

"What the fuck's going on?" I asked. "Everyone keeps alluding to some big scandal."

"Harry hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?!" I growled, frustratedly.

"Oh, fucking hell," Louis said dramatically. "You'd better sit down."

"I am sitting down," I said, my heart pounding. I wasn't sure I could take any more shocks about Harry. Or Louis, for that matter.

"I can't believe he hasn't told you," he said.

"He said he was going to explain everything this weekend," I said, my voice shaking. "Oh God. Is this where you me tell fucking Larry is real or something?"

Louis let out a hysterical laugh down the phone, and I smiled in spite of myself. "No, Larry definitely isn't real," he finally said when he had stopped cackling, and I heard what sounded like Niall and Liam laughing in the background too.

"OK," I said nervously.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and a scuffle. "Hold on," Louis said. "It's Jess," he said away from the phone. "Harry's Jess."

Not anymore, I thought to myself, but I couldn't be bothered correcting him.

I heard unfamiliar voices on Louis' end, and then Louis said, "Right." He sounded annoyed. "Jess?" he said into the phone.

"I'm here."

"I'm not allowed to say anything. I've been told I can't."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "What about?"

"Apparently you're too much of a risk, and I'm not allowed to tell you anything about... me." He paused for a second. "Not my choice, love. Sorry."

"I'm confused," I said.

"You didn't sign that confidentiality agreement so if I tell you what's happened there's nothing stopping you telling the media. That's what they're saying. I'm really sorry. It's nothing to do with Harry though. It's to do with me. So please don't worry."

I didn't know what to say. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach.

"OK," I said in a small voice.

"He's been a shit," Louis said. "Harry, I mean. He shouldn't be avoiding your calls. But short of flying over here and forcing him to talk to you I don't know what else you can do."

"I just want to know why he did it," I said, fighting to keep the waver from my voice. "And I want to know why he won't talk to me."

"I know," Louis said softly. "I'll talk to him when he gets here but he seemed pretty adamant he wasn't going to take your calls."

I needed to end this call before I started bawling.

"Thanks Louis," I sniffed. "Sorry for calling you and putting you in an awkward position."

"Nah, you didn't," he said. "Keep trying Harry. He'll have his phone on on the flight once it's in the air."

"OK," I said, as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. "And - I hope you're OK, Louis. With whatever's happened."

"I'll be fine," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm sorry he fucked up. You're a good'un. He's a prick for hurting you and believe me I'll be letting him know that. Stay in touch, yeah?"

"Thank you," I sobbed. "Bye."

"Bye, darlin'."

I hung up the phone and tried Harry again. His phone rang, and eventually diverted to voicemail, as I knew it would. I sent him a text instead.

To: Harry Styles: Answer your phone. I deserve to know what happened. You owe me that at least.

The message was seen about ten seconds later.

I waited about half a minute and rang him again, and this time he diverted the call. My eyes blurred with tears again, and I vaguely felt Callie put her arms around me while I silently broke down for the twentieth time that evening.

My phone pinged with a text and I pulled my hands away from my face and looked down at my screen.

From: Harry Styles: I'm sorry for everything. I know how much I've hurt you and it's killing me. I wish I could turn back time but I know I can't and I don't blame you for hating me. You deserve better than this, and I wish I could have been that better person xxx

What sort of fucking cop-out reply was that? I wiped my eyes, and typed a reply back, trying to control my hysteria.

To: Harry Styles: I deserve an explanation. If you won't talk to me on the phone you can come and collect your stuff on Sunday and explain it all to me in person.

From: Harry Styles: I'm not coming home. I won't be home for a while. Bin it if you don't want it hanging around, or I'll send a car to get it. I'm sorry xxx

I handed my phone to Callie so she could read the texts and dug my fingers into my scalp as I tried to understand why he wouldn't face me. My breath was coming out as ragged sobs now, and suddenly Callie was on her knees in front of me, both arms around me, rocking me like a child.

"Why won't he explain?" I gasped. "I don't understand - hasn't he hurt me enough?"

"I don't know," she said, and I lifted my head to see tears were running down her cheeks too. "I can't bear seeing you like this, Jess. You didn't deserve any of this. I'm so sorry I dragged you to that party. If I'd known it would turn out like this..."

"It's not your fault!" I choked. "It's my fault for being stupid, pathetic and weak. I was completely taken in by him. I should have known better."

"I can't believe he won't speak to you," Callie said, standing up and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "What a fucking shitbag."

"Why isn't he coming home?" I asked. "What's he doing in Brussels? Oh God, do you think he's with her? That Sara bitch?"

"You don't believe him do you?" Callie said, looking at me with confusion. "He's just saying he's not coming home, to avoid you. Where else is he gonna go?"

I stared at the wall as I mulled over her words. "How will I find out? I don't want to ring Louis again."

Callie thought for a minute. "Who would know his movements?"

"Gemma," I said, immediately.

I knew I was being beyond uncool, behaving like a stalker, but I was at the point now where I was determined to get the truth out of him, if only to prove he couldn't treat me like dirt and walk away scot-free.

To: Gemma Styles: Hi, sorry to text so late. Is Harry going to your mum's this weekend after the Brussels show? x

From: Gemma Styles: I've been dying to text you. Are you OK? I'm so sorry for what happened. No he isn't, he's staying in Brussels and then flying to Denmark a day early. I think Lou Teasdale is staying with him. x

To: Gemma Styles: No, I'm not. I need to talk to him about it properly but he won't take my calls. I thought he'd be home in between shows but I guess not. Thanks x

From: Gemma Styles: He's staying at the Royal Windsor Grand Palace in Brussels. The others are there already. No problem. Take care of yourself. Hugs xxx

"Do you think she's telling the truth?" Callie asked.

"Yeah, I do," I said thoughtfully. A ridiculously stupid idea was beginning to form in my head.

"She could be saying that to keep you from going up there though," Callie was saying.

Could she read my mind?

"What do you mean?" I asked, snapping my head up to look at her.

"Harry might have told her to tell you he was staying in Brussels so you wouldn't turn up at his mum's."

"I'm not going to his mum's," I said, standing up from the sofa and wiping my face. "I'm going to Brussels."