Down the stairs. Out of the lobby. Across the street. And then left.

No. Right.

I definitely turned right.

Didn't I?

Fuck, I don't remember. I wasn't even walking in a definite direction yesterday. I was just walking and walking and walking. All the way until I stumbled into a random bar - the rest is a hazy mess of memories I wish weren't engraved into the forefront of my mind.

All morning I've been having these continuous flashes of everything that has happened over the course of the entirety of mine and Evie's relationship - almost as though I'm being mocked by the wonderful memories because they're destroyed by a wave of new flashes from last night.

Or in other words - me fucking Meg.

The thing is, I know I have to come clean to Evie. That's a no brainer. I guess I knew that anyway without the looming factor of Meg potentially writing an article about me and her. God, I really fucking hope she was saying that just to get a rise out of me.

As thoughts of last night swim through my head, drowning my every thought, my feet carry me aimlessly through the bustling streets with the hope that the ground beneath me will soon become familiar.

How the fuck do I break this news too Evie though. It should be different, because she's no longer my girlfriend. Technically. But I don't think technicalities will help me out here. I don't really give a fuck about the fine print of what I did, and why I did it and whether it was cheating or not - I know it was morally a dumb fucking decision and a dick move.

The only thing I care about right now is how I'm going to get her back.

Because I will get her back.

Even if she despises me because of what Meg and I did, she has to understand why what happened, happened.

The only problem there is, I myself don't know why I did it - so how exactly do I make Evie understand? All I truly know about what I did, is that it was a distraction.

It was me forcing myself to get over Evie.

Evie. The girl I love. My soulmate.

Of course it's clear now. I wanted so badly not to care that my heart had just been torn apart by Evie, that I gave in to the first touch of a woman, knowing and hoping that if I only closed my eyes, then maybe I wouldn't be able to distinguish between the two.

It was nothing but wishful thinking. Because I was so blatantly wrong. No matter how beautiful Meg might be, and how safe she felt. She just wasn't the girl I love.

No one else ever will be.

Evie is the only one.

And hopefully, once I explain it all, and tell E how we're meant for each other - that we're soulmates - then maybe she can forgive me, and we can move past this.

However, there is a small part of me that I'm doing my best to ignore because it's screaming at me that once Evie finds out, she won't speak to me. Like, ever again.

That really would be my worst nightmare come to life.

Finally, after a brisk walk, I look up to recognize the street from last night after Esme's get together.

It's so weird how I was here no more than twelve hours ago and yet it manages to feel like a lifetime has passed.

The seconds disappear and time becomes distorted as my only focus is reaching the slick black door to the bar and I don't think twice before banging my fist against the painted wood - hard enough to leave a bruise.

The small windows rattle with each hard knock of my fist and I take a break in hopes to hear someone moving around on the other side of the door - but there's nothing but silence.

I stumble backwards, shading my eyes from the sun as I look up and around the rest of the building in hopes to find someone inside who can help me out.

Around the back of the building I find another door labelled something or other about employees only but it doesn't stop me from knocking excessively on that door too.

I just need her ribbon.

"Mate, I didn't open the front for a reason. It's not even seven, go home." The door swings open with a creak to reveal a young man who looks vaguely familiar from behind the bar last night.

"No, look you don't understand. I was here last night and I accidently left something. I need it back. Please." The emotion straining through my voice is undeniable and whom I presume is the owner can clearly see the desperation plastered on my face because he waves me through into the back of the building.

He nods his head for me to follow him, weaving my way through a tightly spaced kitchen and as he walks behind the bar, I head around the other side as though I'm just another customer ordering a pint.

Oh. For life to be that simple again.

From somewhere hidden behind the bar he pulls out a small wooden crate filled with miscellaneous items and immediately my eyes hopelessly scan through the visible items.

"You can imagine, working in a bar in the city, we get some obscure things in the lost and found." He chuckles as he places the crate onto the oak countertop, sliding it slowly over to me.

"Yea, I bet." I force a laugh in an attempt to continue the small talk with the hope of not coming off as rude, but my anxiousness has me rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet with the itching feeling of pulling my hair out.

"I have plenty of watches, phones, wallets, pink handcuffs and so on. Take your pick." He turns his back to me, sorting something else out while I rummage through the box, my heart rate rapidly increasing with each second I don't see the ribbon.

The pounding in my ears seems so incredibly loud I'm almost surprised he can't hear it.

It can't have been more than a few seconds of looking, but the drag of each tick of the clock up on the wall felt like alarm bells.

Until I saw it.

The thin piece of red material with the slightly frayed edges and my love note scribbled on the inside of the ribbon.

Relief crashes through me like waves against the shore in a storm as the dainty red fabric rests on my open palm.

As of right now, nothing in the world could be more important than this little ribbon.

"Oh that's yours is it. Lucky Bex was the one who found it, because me or Troy would have trashed it. However Bex was convinced because of the writing that some hopeless romantic would want it back." His words float in the air yet I don't seem to process it.

There's an almost ringing in my ears now I have a hold of this ribbon. Because all though I'm so relieved to have this back - it also means that all I have left to do is talk to Evie.

And explain everything that has happened, while telling her she's also my soulmate and finally, telling her how madly in love with her I am. How she captivates my whole being with that simple smile of hers and how each touch of hers burns into my skin like the wildfire our love is.

"Yea, thanks again mate. I really appreciate it." I give a small nod to the guy, barely taking my eyes off the words I scribbled onto the ribbon. Looking at them takes me back to the flight home and how much everything has changed since that trip.

That trip to Arizona was the last time me and Evie really spent time alone together.

It was the last time she was happy around me.

"Anytime." The bartender responds and I swiftly exit the bar, through the back entrance just the way I entered.

As I head out the back, I vaguely catch the voice of the bartender speaking once again, but this time to himself. "Maybe I should write something on a piece of fabric for Bex, hopefully then she'll stop complaining about how unromantic I am."

I hesitate for a moment, thinking for a split second that I should turn around and tell him not to do it because it will only start a chain of regrettable events.

Instead, I don't look back and continue out into the early morning air.

Retracing my steps back to Evie's apartment block, I find myself there too soon and although I'm desperate to see E, I have no plan of what to say to her, and no idea as how to even start.

I thought I'd be able to spend the walk back here planning how I can phrase it perfectly so she understands that it wasn't me. But, to my despair, the walk went by far too quickly for me to even process a single thought. It's just become another haze - just like everything that has gone on this past 48 hours.

As I pass the street before her building, a small shop catches my eye. The same one I've been to a million times to buy Evie sunflowers. I don't realize I'm walking straight for the colorful arrangements, until I'm already there. A singular sunflower in my hand and money in the other.

"Ah, if it isn't Romeo, it's been a while since I've seen you here." Frank speaks, a sly smile creeping across his face as if nothing negative has happened. But who is he to know how badly I've ruined things with the girl I love.

"Been travelling recently, that's all." I lie, not baring to tarnish this view that Frank has of me. It's selfish, I know. But the small thread of hope that someone still believes in me is too tempting not to take. In Frank's eyes, I'm just a young man in love and a hopeless romantic.

Hence the nickname - Romeo.

Unfortunately, Romeo and Juliet didn't get the ending they deserve. And the knot in my stomach grows with the fear that me and Evie may have a similar fate.

I pay for the single flower, and pace around to the front of Evie's apartment, taking a deep breath as I brace myself to finally face my consequences.

As I walk up the stairs to her floor, I feel my body become heavy as my heart begins to race, and soon enough, I'm face to face with her front door.

My breathing is uneven and thick - like there's not enough air in this building for me to swallow. It's almost that same feeling as when you're holding your breath underwater and then when you reach the surface you're gasping, trying to swallow all of the air you can.

With a shaky hand, I reach out and grab the door handle and push the door open.

Initially everything seems just as quiet as it was when I left and I can't tell whether that's a good sign or not. Because if Es told Evie I was here, then I'm sure they'd both be waiting for me to come back.

It's not like I couldn't even come back.

My phone's here.

Or at least, it was here.

My eyes wander around the room as I notice my phone is no longer plugged in to the charger.

"You arrogant son of a bitch." My eyes are quickly directed to the yelling coming straight at me from the direction of Evie's room.

However, the voice of the person speaking belongs to Esme.

"How could you! How could you let me cry to you this morning, begging you to fix things when you had done that. Done her." Esme's cheeks are tear stained and blotchy and immediately my stomach drops to my shoes.

If she knows. Then so does-

"Where's Evie?" I rush out, not paying attention to the words that Esme keeps firing at me while tears continue to roll down her face.

"Get the fuck out Harry. Get the fuck out of our apartment. You're not good for her, you're not good for me, you're not good for anyone. God, I can't believe we let you into our lives, introduced you to our friends. Fucking hell Harry, you've been my idol for fucking years. I hate you. Get out." Esme's hands collide with my chest, pushing me back with force I didn't expect from her as she tries to physically get me out of the apartment.

And although usually, I'd try and make sure she's okay before leaving her. My only and every thought is centered around Evie. And how she must be feeling right now.

This isn't fair.

It shouldn't have happened like this.

I wish it hadn't happened at all.

But it's my mistake, and I'm the one who's supposed to fix it. I'm the one who's supposed to explain this to Evie. She was meant to hear it from me.

Fuck. How did she even find out?

I gently reach out and grasp at Esme's wrists, pulling them away from my chest and in defeat she kind of just allows them to fall to her side with a strangled sob.

My whole thought has been on how Evie will take this. I never once thought about how badly this might affect Esme too. These past few months, me and her have grown really close. And she's been a fan of mine for years.

Not even just me, but the whole of One Direction.

And now I've seemingly ruined that for her.

As I stumble through Evie's bedroom door, my heart shatters.

There she sits, curled up hugging her knees in one of my jumpers - I wonder if she put that on before she realised what I'd done. The jumper seems quite fitting with the fact it reads 'my life is crap' because that's the exact description I would give as of right now.

"Evie." I collapse in a sigh at the side of her bed, half holding my hands out in hopes to touch her but also holding back out of fear of her rejection.

Nothing.

There she sits, her eyes red raw making the blue look even more grey. Her fragile face looking drained of all color and all emotion.

She doesn't appear to be crying anymore, but it's so clear that she was before I arrived.

"Evie, please look at me." I strain my voice, finding my own eyes welling with tears at this heartbreaking sight.

But she doesn't.

She doesn't move an inch. I can't do this if she won't look at me. I need to know she's listening so I know she understands. She has to understand.

"Sunflower." I whisper barely above a breath, and this time I brave it and place my hand on her arm.

She doesn't flinch. But I wish she had. Because instead she doesn't react at all, she stays motionless and I think that's worse than if she were to reject me.

"It had to end at some point, didn't it?" As she speaks, her voice scratches and I can only imagine the pain her throat is in right now. Thinking about everything I've put her through the past couple of days, I'm surprised she hasn't completely lost her voice - from the arguing and the crying.

After breaking up not even 24 hours ago.

And now all of this Meg shit.

I can't believe I actually took the best thing that ever happened to me and fucked it up. Completely and utterly ruined it.

"Evie." I repeat once more, praying that she'll turn to face me.

Instead, with her sullen voice, she continues to say destructive words.

"I mean, it might as well be now. Before either of us get too attached." She lets out a dry laugh of disbelief and I freeze, my breath hitching in my throat.

Before either of us get too attached? Is she fucking kidding right now? She's my soulmate. I'm way past attached. I'm in love with her.

Does this mean that she isn't in love with me?

I'm not only losing her, but I'm losing myself. I'm losing Esme and Dani and Jenny. I won't be able to show my face at Michael's café again. If I did, I'm quite certain that Bea would put some sort of poison in my coffee or razor blades in my sandwich.

How did I manage to fuck up so badly?

"Don't you think Harry? Oh sorry, I think you go by 'Mr. She feels so good'" She uses air quotes, her eyes are empty and her words strike something in me.

It's very similar to something Meg said to me last night.

She published the article.

A part of me can't believe she actually did it. I truly thought she was only saying it to get a rise out of me. But then again, I can't object, considering I'm the one who did it.

If I didn't want her to write an article, I shouldn't have slept with her.

"You should've just stayed away Harry. Coming back here was a bad idea." She stares into my eyes with no emotion in her face and it makes her so unrecognizable.

I'm doing everything I can not to cry and scream and yell because the mixture of pain and lack of sleep right now is really affecting me. Not to mention the anger I can't help but have towards Meg, because she took away the one thing I had left - and that was for me to tell Evie first.

But mostly, I feel hatred towards myself.

"I had to come back. My phone was here and-"

"No. Harry. I mean after last night. You shouldn't have come back this morning. You have no reason to be here." Evie's words cut through me and there's still no sight of Esme. But my mind doesn't hesitate on that thought for too long because I'm trying to process everything else and there's too much to think of at once.

Of course I have a reason to be here.

To tell her I love her, and that she's my soulmate, and that we can work through this.

But maybe she doesn't want to work through this. She doesn't seem to love me.

I drop the sunflower onto the bed, knowing the ribbon is still tucked away in my pocket.

With a tightlipped smile that is clearly fake, Evie picks up the sunflower, twirling it in her delicate touch.

She picks at one of the large petals.

"He loves me."

And another. "He loves me not."

Another. "He cares."

Another. "He cares not."

Evie continues to pick away at the petals until only two are left on the suddenly sorrowful flower which looked so happy and beautiful moments ago. It reflects her in a sense - the most smiley, bubbly, beautiful girl I know, now looking hurt, and void and destroyed.

She picks at the penultimate petal, and I hold my breath, anticipating what she could possibly say to further tear me apart.

"I forgive him."

"I forgive him not."

She raises her eyebrows as if to say 'and that's that' as she allows the last petal to fall into the pile of others spread across her bed sheets with a small meaningless shrug.

I know I don't deserve kindness right now, especially not from the girl I've hurt. I took advantage of her kind heart, but I never would expect her to become so heartless.

Perhaps I just pushed her to her limit.

How am I supposed to tell her she's my soulmate, that I'm in love with her, if she's just told me straight that she's not going to forgive me.

"Stop acting like you're so perfect Evie." I can't stop the words from rolling out of my mouth and I don't even mean them but I'm just so angry, I can't help but snap.

The thing is though, she is perfect, to me she is and always will be perfect.

"I have never said I'm perfect Harry. You, you're the one always telling me how perfect I am. I'm sorry because yes I felt guilty and pushed you away-" Her voice begins to rise and finally she allows some emotion to slip through. Even if it's hatred for me.

Anger is better than hurt.

I'd rather she hate me than be heartbroken over me.

Maybe that's what I should do. Make her hate me.

"No Evie. You didn't just push me away. You completely shut me out. We've already had this fucking discussion, last night-"

"And look where that led you. Straight into another woman's bed. You were really that torn up about the fact I wouldn't have sex with you, that you decided to go a fuck someone else." She stares coldly into me, her words like ice and I never knew she could hold such an anger to her tone.

"I-" I find myself at a loss for words, choked up because I can't explain it. There's no excuse for what I did.

"What genuinely went through your mind Harry? Please, enlighten me." Her gaze is deadly and I feel like it's a trap because whatever I say isn't right.

Nothing I can say will fix this now.

All the anger I have dissipates and instead I allow the tears to fall down my cheeks, the taste of salty water on my lips.

I try to regulate my breathing as I stumble out the words, "I don't know, I just-" But I'm cut off by my own sobs.

However, Evie seems unfazed by my deterioration.

If anything, she's only got more anger behind her eyes than before.

"You don't get to do that Harry." She shakes her head, averting her eyes.

"Did you not, at any point, think about me? Think about what you were doing and how it would make me feel. When you kissed her, did you think about me? Or when you took off her dress. Or when you ran your hands across her skin. Did you honest to god, not think about how stupid this would make me look? Make me feel? What about when you were having sex with her, making yourself feel good. Didn't it occur to you that I'd be at home, in tears because I was heartbroken over our dumb fight?" Each harsh word stings more than the last and although there's so much hatred behind her words, I can see how glassy her eyes are becoming again.

But unlike me, she's not allowing the emotion to spill over.

"Of course I thought about you Evie." My words appear to amuse her, like they're exactly what she wanted to hear - but not in a good way.

It seems like making her hate me is easier than I'd hoped.

It's probably better for her if she hates me though. Because she doesn't know we're soulmates. And the fact alone that I do, knowing I can't be with her is the punishment I deserve. Always knowing she was meant for me, until I ruined it.

"So you did think about me. You were sliding in and out of another girl, making her scream and yet you thought of me. And when you thought of me, did you not think to stop?" Her narrowing eyes dance with amusement that I can't quite decipher.

"That's not- That's not what I meant Evie." I try to interject. Fuck sake, I knew whatever I'd say would appear wrong. Obviously I thought about her, just not in that way. I don't even know what way, myself exactly. It's like she consumes my every thought that I kind of pretended it was her, while also trying to push away every thought of her I had.

All the remorse and regret continues to pour out of me in strangled sobs and salty tears.

"Of course that's not what you mean H. I just think it's almost funny how you've been here for, however long now. And you've yet to tell me how much you regret it, how much you wish you could take it back, how sorry you are. True colors will always show through Harry, you should know that. I guess it's as simple as you don't regret it." Her words are so far from the truth.

But I also know that if I let her believe that I don't regret it, then she just might hate me enough to not be heartbroken.

Right now, what I say dictates it all.

Hate or heartbreak.

"I'm not sorry."

Hey besties.... so I know I've been MIA.... BUT I've been working on some new projects because Wildfire is so close to the end now....

Feel free to add Toxin and Sweet Obsession to your reading lists - I'll discuss them more in the final authors note of this book :)