No Control | Holding Me Ransom (Book 2)

22 - Escape From The City

To: Harry: Yes I did. And I don't wish you any bad feeling, but I don't see the point in keeping in touch. It's not like we're going to meet up for coffee. Better all round if we both just move on. 

I was proud of myself for being so firm. And I was surprised I had managed to reply so calmly, without my hands trembling, and without a lump rising in my throat. Maybe it was the knowledge I was leaving London tomorrow, and would be in completely new surroundings with no painful reminders (like my name sign on my desk that had been lurking in the background of the selfie I'd sent Harry, which he'd later pointed out during our date at C London, or the Costa Coffee across the street from my office where I'd run my finger across his bottom lip and turned him on when we'd met up just before he flew out on tour, or the newsagent I had to pass every morning where I'd bought the copy of Heat Magazine with the story of Harry's 'new girlfriend' Joy Muggli. Although this particular tale hadn't been true, I still remembered that period in our relationship every time I walked past it, and the memory of the feeling of hurt and despair was as real as the day it had happened.)

I received a reply as I was climbing into bed.

From: Harry: I was hoping maybe we could? Meet up for coffee, I mean x

I was starting to think nothing about this guy would surprise me anymore.

To: Harry: Why?

I'd sent this before I'd had time to think about it, and instantly regretted it. Why was I allowing him to draw me into conversation? Or rather, why was I drawing him into conversation? It's like I had no control over my fingers or something. 

I smirked at my own thoughts, noting the No Control reference. Old habits died hard.

My phone pinged almost straight away.

From: Harry: Just thought it would be good to catch up. I'll be home in August, I was hoping maybe I could see you x

My heart was pounding so hard it was making my chest shake. I knew what I should do. And I knew what I wanted to do. It was a pity the two were polar opposites.

I closed my eyes for a moment and forced myself to remember how I'd felt when I'd found out about his arrangement with Taylor Swift, and the time he'd gone in a sulk because I wouldn't go back to his house after the Fleetwood Mac concert and he'd ended up telling me he could have any girl he wanted, and when he'd called me to tell me he'd been unfaithful, and when I'd offered him a second chance in Brussels and he'd turned me down. Although this was an extremely unfair representation of our relationship, it was the only way I was able to do what I knew I needed to do. It worked. The opening of the old wounds brought back all the anger and resentment I still felt towards him.

To: Harry: Sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea. Enjoy your time off though, and I hope the US dates go well.

I didn't get a reply.

~~~~~

Callie called round the following morning and we sat at my kitchen table eating bacon sandwiches and drinking tea. I showed her Harry's texts, and she shook her head in despair at me, until she got to my last text, and raised her eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

"He just can't leave you alone, can he," she remarked. "I wonder what his game is."

"He doesn't like not being in control," I observed. "As soon as I reject him he keeps coming back for more. It's typical wanting-what-you-can't-have behaviour. I can see right through it."

"Hmmm," she said, noncommittally, and the subject moved on. 

She helped me put my bags in the car when I was ready to leave, and to my surprise she looked a bit tearful as we hugged goodbye. The journey to Cardiff was traffic-free, and I found my hotel easily with the sat nav. Once I'd checked in and unpacked, I got back in my car and drove the short distance to my new office, just to gauge the journey. I stopped at McDonalds on my way back and took my meal up to my room, and then spent the evening watching TV and preparing myself for the following day.