"I can't believe you've agreed to see her."

Callie was staring at me in disbelief over her glass of wine.

"I didn't exactly agree," I protested weakly.

"Well it sounds like it to me," she said bluntly.

We were sitting at my kitchen table discussing Karen's phonecall and tomorrow's meeting.

"I know it sounds crazy but I just feel like I haven't really had the full truth about all this," I tried to explain, reaching for the Doritos that were in the bowl between us. "I feel like there's something she's not telling me."

"Or, she's trying to make you think that to get you over there so she can coerce you into this stupid pretend-girlfriend-business," Callie suggested.

"I'm not getting involved in that," I declared. "I know you think I'm going to change my mind," I continued when she opened her mouth to protest, "but trust me, I wouldn't lower myself. I've been humiliated enough."

"But... Jess..," she began, and I knew by the way she was thinking carefully before she spoke that I wasn't going to like what she was about to say. "Look what happened when you went to Brussels. You were adamant you weren't going to forgive him and you ended up asking him to take you back."

"It wasn't quite like that," I said uncomfortably.

"Near enough," she said gently, pulling the bowl towards her and dropping a couple of Doritos into her hand. "I just know you can't say no when it comes to him -"

"Actually, you're wrong," I snapped. "I've said no plenty of times, and it caused friction because he couldn't handle it. He's used to getting his own way, but he didn't with me, and he didn't like it."

"Sounds like a nice guy," Callie said sarcastically.

"It isn't his fault," I said quickly. "It's the fame that's done it. He clicks his fingers, everyone jumps. He doesn't take advantage of it or anything, but he's used to getting what he wants. Whether it be girls, arrangements or good PR - it's just the way his life is. Anyone would be the same in that situation. In fact, no. Most people would be complete arsehøles, but he's the exception."

Callie put her head in her hands.

"See, Jess, there you go again," she said. "Stop defending him. He treated you like dirt and all you can do is tell me he's not an arsehøle. This is why you shouldn't be going tomorrow. That woman will talk you into going along with whatever she demands, because she'll spin you some sob story about Harry and you'll take pity on him because you're still in love with him."

"I'm not completely stupid," I argued. "And I can't forgive him for this. I know I said that last time but he's hurt me again since then, so I am even more against giving in to any demands."

There was no point trying to deny I was still in love with Harry. But come on, it had only been four days since I found out he had been unfaithful. It takes time for these things to fade. I could still hate him while I loved him. Or love him while I hated him. Whatever.

"OK, so what if he's there when you turn up - "

"He won't be, they're touring."

"- and he's all emotional and he declares his love for you, says he's sorry and begs you to take him back."

"What the - That isn't going to happen!" I scoffed. "He doesn't love me! He told me that."

Callie opened her mouth to say something and then quickly shut it again. "You haven't answered my question," she said eventually, not meeting my eyes.

I rolled my eyes. "That's because it's like saying 'what would you do if you got a letter from Hogwarts?' It's a ridiculous question. It would never happen. Harry is not coming home in between shows. He's not going to beg for forgiveness. He doesn't love me."

"This just doesn't add up," Callie said, flatly, placing both her palms on the table. "Mark my words - there is more to this meeting than meets the eye. There is more to this whole turn of events than meets the eye. Something is going on."

"There is something going on," I agreed. "But it's to do with Louis. All I know is, it caused problems between him and Harry. I don't know how that relates to what happened with Harry and... that girl -" (I couldn't bring myself to say her name out loud) "- but I'm hoping that tomorrow I will at least get some answers that might help me lay this all to rest so I can move on with my life."

Callie sighed and drained her wine glass. "I hope so, Jess. For your sake. I never liked him, and I certainly never trusted him. I think you're better off without him. But for what it's worth, I believe he was, and possibly still is, in love with you. So don't let any well-chosen words from this Karen woman soften you up to forgiving him. Because you're better than that. You deserve better."

"Hold on," I said. "What do you mean by that? What makes you think you know how he felt about me?"

"It doesn't matter," she said, looking away.

"It does matter," I pressed. "If you know something you have to tell me."

"Why? You're not going back there are you? So why torture yourself with the past?"

"Because it might help me make sense of it," I argued.

"It won't. It has no bearing on any of this. He cheated on you, then he dumped you; I do believe there is more to it than any of us know, but surely that's enough for you to walk away and never look back?"

She was right. Of course she was right. No matter what Harry's motives had been, I couldn't forgive infidelity. And what was the point in torturing myself with whether or not he had ever been in love with me? Some things were better off left alone.

~~~~~

A black car was waiting for me outside my office when I finished at 5pm the following day. I'd had a text from Karen in the morning with the make and model of the car, along with the registration plate and the name of the driver that would be collecting me - Antos.

I walked over to it and a stocky guy with a bald head got out of the driver's seat and introduced himself, before opening the back door for me. There was a bottle of water on the backseat and I sipped it gratefully as we crawled across London with the rest of the commuters making their way home.

It was after 6pm when we finally turned onto Peterborough Road. I remembered driving down here with Harry, adamant he was going the wrong way because these residential streets didn't look like they housed the management company of arguably the biggest pop band in the world. I remembered his smirk at my insistence I was right, and the way he had jumped and swerved when I had got over-excited about the possibility of Modest having a secret entrance.

"Will there be paps outside?" I asked suddenly.

The last thing I needed was for there to be photographers "coincidentally" waiting at the gates, and getting pictures of me arriving. I knew the paps knew the location of the Modest offices. It was no secret.

"There weren't any when I left," Antos answered. "But duck your head down if you want, just in case."

I did - just in case I had read Karen all wrong and this was indeed a set up. I doubted it, but you could never be too sure.

The car stopped, and I kept my head down as I heard Antos greeting the security guard. The car slowly crawled through the gates, up the ginnel and into the small car park.

"The paps aren't here," he called, and I sat up again as we pulled into a parking space by the door, next to a white transit van that didn't fit with my image of flash famous people that frequented these offices, and killed the engine.

"Thanks," I replied, and he got out and opened the door for me, and then we walked up to the main door and into the building.

I began to feel the beginnings of butterflies in my stomach at the thought of facing Karen. It wasn't just the anticipation of what she might say, but the memories this place held. They brought with them an overwhelming feeling of sadness, and a longing for what might have been, had Harry not been unable to resist temptation in the form of Portuguese models.

I kept my head down as we walked through Reception towards the stairs. I didn't want to make eye contact with anyone who might recognise me from the last time I'd been here, and that could potentially try and strike up a conversation with me. I just wanted to slip in unnoticed, hear whatever Karen had to say, and slip out again.

As we walked down the corridor towards her office the door was slightly ajar and I could hear her voice filtering out of the room, talking to someone, presumably on the phone.

"I didn't tell you because I knew you would react like this," she was saying. "Just for once trust me that I know what I'm doing - I'm not paid this kind of money for nothing, you know."

I briefly wondered what kind of money she made, and I realised I didn't even know what her job title was; just that she was quite high up in this multimillion pound artist management company and seemed to call a lot of the shots around here. I wasn't even sure if she had anything to do with anyone else, or if she just looked after One Direction.

My heart lurched at the thought of the band, and as Antos stood to the side to let me approach her door and I knocked softly, I thought for a brief moment I saw Harry sitting on the chair he'd sat in last time in front of her desk. I silently cursed my eyes for playing tricks on me and making my stomach flip over sickeningly and unneccessarily.

And then the door opened fully and Karen stood there, smiling nervously, and I saw the figure with long curly hair sitting in the same seat as last time, his legs stretched out in front of him, staring resolutely down at his feet.

----****----

I had a look at my demographics for this sequel the other day, and I was amazed at how far around the world it has travelled already, and it hasn't even hit 1k reads!! I know some of you, but there were a few surprises in there too! So hi to the readers from:

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