"Sorry," he mumbled after a moment, and released me from his hold so I could step back.

"It's OK," I said, because I didn't know what else to say.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked back the tears that were collecting behind my eyes. I sat back down on the edge of the bed and waited, looking at him, for him to continue.

"So I went to meet Jeff and all his friends at the bar, and we started drinking. It was still pretty early, but after everything that had happened, I just wanted to blot it all out. Louis, the baby, the band..." He trailed off, and was quiet for a moment. "There was no way Louis would be able to continue with One Direction while he was trying to be a dad," he explained. "No one had said it out loud, but we all knew we wouldn't be able to tour the next album, and that we would have to put everything on hold for a while, at least until he adjusted."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked gently. "I knew how worried you were about the band's popularity without Zayn. Why didn't you tell me about Louis' baby, and the impact it was going to have? I mean, obviously I couldn't have done anything about it, but you could have talked to me. I would have listened to you, and supported you. You wouldn't have had to deal with it alone."

"I know," he said miserably. "I don't know why I didn't tell you. After the row with Louis I suppose I just wanted to forget it all and stick my head in the sand. Talking about it all made it seem real, and I wasn't ready to face it, or to deal with it yet. I just wanted to pretend it wasn't happening. It's another one of my regrets." He sighed. "Anyway, all that, coupled with the lies I'd told you, and the row I'd just had with Nadine... I was stressed and upset. So we were all knocking the drinks back pretty fast. I'm not a huge fan of beer so I was on the spirits, and I hadn't had any dinner... I got drunk really quickly."

He ran his hand through his hair before clasping his hands together. The gesture was so painfully typical of Harry it made my heart hurt.

"I can't really remember timescales," he continued, "but at some point during the night I looked up towards the door and saw Nadine walking in with some friends. My heart sank. It couldn't have been a coincidence that she was there, because I'd told her where we would be. She sort of caught my eye as she walked in and gave me this little smile, and I knew immediately she was here to see me. I recognised some of her friends as they followed her in, and one of them...." he trailed off, looking nervously at me, and I gave a resigned nod. I knew it would only be a matter of time before she became part of this story. "...one of them was Sara," he said.

I said nothing. I felt only hatred towards the girl, and didn't see the point in letting my thoughts loose on the world again. Nothing good would come from any more horse analogies.

"They came over to say hi - Nadine and Sara," he clarified. "I already knew Sara anyway, from various functions I'd attended in the US, so we sort of said hi, how are you, et cetera. I was trying to talk to Jeff and his friends, but Nadine kept trying to get my attention, and she was starting to get on my nerves a bit. She kept reaching over to me, touching my hand, touching my arm, touching my leg. She was obviously flirting with me, and it was making me uncomfortable, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings. But I think Sara got onto it, so when I got up to go to the bathroom I think she convinced Nadine to leave us alone, and by the time I came back they were sitting in a booth with their friends."

He seemed to hesitate at this part, looking at me nervously again, and wiping his palms on his jeans. My stomach churned in response.

"I think that's when I called you. I remember feeling relieved that Nadine had finally left us alone, and I just wanted to hear your voice. I missed you so much. I just... I just wanted you."

I reached over and gently touched his hand. I couldn't help it. Hearing him talk about me, about us, like this was awakening feelings that I had tried so hard to keep buried. He looked up at me for a second before pulling his hand away.

"Don't," he said. "Don't feel sorry for me. I don't deserve it."

I blinked, taken aback at his harsh tone. I withdrew my hand awkwardly, before shoving them both underneath my legs.

"Sorry," he said. "I just... you'll understand why in a minute. I'm sorry..." He looked down again and I watched him, waiting, my heart pounding again.

"I was snappy with you on the phone," he continued, looking up at me. "I'm sorry about that. I was on the defensive because I knew I should have told you about Nadine sooner, but it slipped out because I was drunk. I hadn't planned to tell you then, and I just started being an arse because... well, because I'm an idiot. And you didn't even yell at me like I thought you would, and that made me feel even worse, that you didn't start an argument or make me feel bad, even though I knew you would be secretly upset about it."

"Of course I was upset," I said. "I couldn't get back to sleep after you called because I felt sick at the thought of you drunk in a bar with her. I couldn't understand why you'd met up with her without telling me, and that made me suspicious. I didn't know why your relationship had ended; we'd never had that conversation. But the last thing I wanted to do was argue about it while you were still there, because that would just have pushed you towards her, especially if the temptation was already there."

"Of course it wasn't there," he said, shaking his head at me. "My feelings for Nadine were over pretty much as soon as I met you. She could never have compared to you. No one could."

"Then how the hell did you end up in bed with someone else?" I cried in exasperation, and my voice broke on the last word.

"Please don't cry," he begged. "I'm so sorry."

I turned my face away and took a deep breath, trying to fight the tears again. The way he was speaking about us reminded me of the love I'd felt from him towards the end of our relationship. Or thought I'd felt. He was confusing me more with these nostalgic words, particularly when he seemed to be implying he may have loved me after all. I wasn't sure which was worse: the thought that he had never loved me, or that he had once, and now no longer did.

Once I'd wrestled enough with my emotions to get them back under control I looked back at him. "I'm fine," I said. "Carry on."

He looked at me hesitantly, and then continued.

"Jeff was partying hard. He wanted to have one more shot before we left, so I agreed, and we did. Some of his mates were off their faces, and they were snorting all sorts. After the last shot I wanted to go back to the hotel but Jeff was wired, and was trying to convince me to come to one more bar.

"I had been keeping an eye on the girls' booth for a bit, and I kept catching Sara's eye every time I looked over. It got a bit awkward after a while, and we sort of laughed about it across the room. I didn't mean it to look like I was flirting with her, but I think she got the wrong idea. I think she thought I was making eyes at her or something. I wasn't, Jess, I swear," he said, his eyes wide and sincere. "Honestly, I was just keeping tabs on Nadine. But then a couple of minutes later it looked like Nadine and Sara were arguing, and then the whole group got up and left. Nadine looked like she was crying, but I kept my head down as they walked out because I didn't want to get involved."

He gave a sigh, and ran his hand through his hair again.

"I felt like shıt, though, because I was pretty sure she was upset because of me. I told Jeff I was leaving, but he didn't want me to. I said I was tired, and I wanted to get some sleep because the time difference was wearing me out. He wasn't listening to me, and he was saying I could just sleep on the plane to Brussels. But I was fed up and just wanted to be on my own. We sort of snapped at each other, so I went to the bathroom again to get away from it. When I came back he apologised, and asked me to come for one drink at the next bar, and then we'd all call it a night. I was undecided, because I really just wanted to go back to the hotel, but I didn't want to be a killjoy."

He hesitated again, and looked up at me fearfully. "And then," he began, and faltered.

My stomach churned sickeningly.

"What, Harry?" I asked softly, but he didn't answer, and stared down at his feet.

"Harry?" I asked again, moving my head down to try and see his expression.

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed.

"And then Jeff said I needed a pick-me-up. He said I just needed something to get me through the next hour until we went back to the hotel to crash."

My heart started pounding again as I looked at him, and his eyes darted away quickly, but then immediately flicked back to mine.

"He said his friend had some good stuff that would keep me going. He said it had kept him going for the last couple of hours. It was Amphetamine - Speed. They'd been on it most of the night, that's why they were all buzzing. So he offered me some."

My hands were trembling as I stared at him, knowing what was coming next but unable to believe it. We stared at each other in silence for what seemed like forever.

"And?" I asked, in a whisper.

He swallowed hard, and looked down at his feet again.

"And... and I took it."