I open my eyes the next morning to the sun seeping in through the curtains and forget about the events of the night before for a split second. For that split second, I simply feel the happiness that I'm back with my family in London.

Then, everything comes crashing down. I close my eyes and rub my head to relieve the growing headache but instead of seeing darkness, I see him. Everywhere. His angered face right in front of mine. I'm hit with the gut-wrenching pain just like I was then.

My eyes dart open but it doesn't help. This room is no longer my room. It's a room full of memories of him. He's on my bed, at the door, sitting at my desk. The disappointment on his face when I asked him the question, he'd been dreading flashes in my mind.

I stumble out of bed and into the bathroom, ripping my clothes off and throwing them onto the floor. I don't bother taking my hair out of the braids they're in or wiping yesterday's makeup off my face. Instead, I turn the shower on, stepping straight in.

The scalding hot water hits my skin. I stand motionless, allowing it to wash away his touch. I want to erase everywhere he's touched me. I want to forget the words he whispered to me. I want to forget how he makes me feel.

I roughly grab the soap and wash every inch of my body as if it will make me forget. I want to go back to the girl who got off the plane. The girl who only worried about settling into a new place. I want to see Archer as Penny's brother, an acquaintance, not someone with who I shared some of the best moments.

As the steam surrounds me and clouds my vision, I press myself against the wall, leaning onto it for support. What am I doing?

I heave out a deep sigh and thrust my hands into my hair. The truth is, I don't want any of that. I don't want to forget, I don't want to feel any differently towards him, and I don't want him to be anything less than what he is. I want him to be more. I always wanted him to be more.

I opened up to him, showed him the deepest parts of me that I never thought I would have shown anyone. Is this what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and broken into little pieces?

I sink to the tiles beneath me, curling up into a ball. The water hitting my skin feels like needles, but I don't move. I cry hard. My tears mix with the soap suds and they both go down the drain. Just like the unnamed thing with me and Archer.

He said if he knew we would end up like this he never would have kissed me. Would I have refrained from kissing him if I knew? The answer is no. I wouldn't have stopped myself. I laugh in between the sobs. Am I really that stupid?

I've seen heartbreak countless times in movies. Bella Swan sits in the same chair in the same room for months on end, staring aimlessly out of the same window. Amanda upends her life to get away from her supposed significant other by doing a home exchange.

You witness their pain but never really understand it. You can never understand something until you experience it yourself. Now, I understand. But the funny thing is if I sit in my room and stare out of my window like Bella, Archer will only be metres away from me. I'm already living in a different home, so Amanda's coping mechanism is off the table too.

The only two options I have are to deal with it and go back to Portland like I planned or give up and stay in London. How do I know what to choose? If there were someone who could decide for me then I would gladly let them. But I know that I have to make this decision myself.

I hope I make the right one.

I get out of the shower; put on the comfiest pyjamas I own and get straight back into bed. Although, my plan to wallow in my self-pity for the rest of the day until I fall asleep is thrown out of the window by my dad.

"Morning." He greets me as he walks into my room with a tray of pastries. I keep the duvet almost entirely over my head.

I hear him set it down on my bedside table, feeling the weight as he sits next to me. Archer was once sitting there. I scrunch my eyes shut and try to stop comparing everything to him.

"Is Archer still here?" My voice is heavy from crying. I'm sure that he notices.

"No, he said one of his friends needed him in Portland."

Feeling more relaxed knowing that he isn't here, I sit up and allow him to see me. He gives me a weak smile once he notices my appearance. My hair's still in a damp braid and I'm sure my eyes are still puffy and red from crying. He probably heard our argument too.

I can't talk about it with him though. I already told him nothing was going on between me and Archer. It was a lie at the time but now it's the truth. I can't talk to Penny because she doesn't know either. Hell, I can't even talk to Sadie.

I've kept it from them all for so long it's too late to take it back now. If Penny found out that I'd been hiding it from her I'd definitely lose her. Not to mention I'd lose Brody as well. I may be their friend, but they knew each other long before I was there. I don't doubt that he'd take her side. He has every right to. I'm the one in the wrong here.

"Listen, I know something's wrong," he starts. I open my mouth to deny it, but he stops me. "You don't have to tell me what it is. But you know that I'll always be here for you, right? I know for a fact your mum would whoop my ass if I wasn't."

A small laugh emits from my lips, taking less than a minute to turn into tears. "Oh, honey." He ushers me over to him. I oblige as he wraps his arms around me.

"Let me know if I need to get rid of anyone." He says soothingly as he strokes my damp hair.

I pull away from him, wiping the tears from my eyes with a sniffle. I tilt my head in confusion and wait for him to explain further. Get rid of anyone? That could only mean one thing, right?

"You know," he runs his finger across his throat in a violent manner before proceeding to stick his tongue out as if he were dead.

I laugh slightly. His words don't surprise me. He's incredibly protective of me and Sadie. I brought a boy home once in middle school and after he met my dad, he steered clear of me for the rest of the year. I still don't know what he said to this day but whatever it was it scared the hell out of him. I'm sure he'd do the same if Sadie brought someone home too. He can only have the best for his two girls.

"I don't think you need to do that." I give him a grateful smile. Even when I'm sad he still manages to make me laugh.

"You know," he grabs a croissant off of the tray and stuffs it into his mouth. "Relationships aren't always perfect."

"I'm not in a relationship." I remind him.

He rolls his eyes. "Fine, secret relationships."

I decide not to try to deny it again. What he's saying is true, I guess we did have a secret relationship. Not anymore though. Whatever we were has been scrunched up into a ball and set alight. There's no fixing it now.

"You and mum were always happy though."

He scoffs as if I've just told him his favourite law documentary wasn't based on a true story. "Trust me, there were many times I wanted to get rid of her."

"You did?" I question shocked at what he's telling me.

"Of course, we'd have our arguments, but we'd never have them in front of you girls."

"Not like this though," I drop my gaze to the floor, picking at the skin around my nails.

"That might be so, but people have their fair share of arguments, some that even make them question their relationship." There was never a relationship to question but if there were it'd be ashes floating off in the winter breeze. "What I'm trying to say is don't let it get to you too much."

His words dull the aching in my heart, even for a short moment. I hug him. "Thanks, dad."

He gives me a curt nod before standing up, pinching another pastry off the tray as he leaves. I eat the rest of what's left despite not being hungry. I'll do anything to take my mind off of Archer.

My dad's speech made a lot of sense. I shouldn't let it get to me too much. But that's easier said than done. I know what I need to do to start. With this in mind, I go downstairs and spend the rest of the day with the people I care about. My dad, Sadie, and Penny. I don't think about the decision that I have to make. I push it off until tomorrow.