Jitters. Caffeine adrenaline rush. I've been sitting anxiously by my phone for way too long, I'm all in my head. Psyching myself out again. The door flings open, Loren smiles at me and tosses her keys in the bowl on the entryway table.

"Hi Harry," she chirps happily, hair a frizzy and untamed mess from the rain. "Hope you're hungry, I ordered takeout."

"You're a saint," I return the smile and she waltzes into the kitchen, switches on the light.

"Chicken fried rice and hibachi noodles."

"Someone is awfully cheery."

"Oxymoronic," she jokes, stabbing her fork into a piece of chicken. "There's tension in your jaw. You're clenching again."

"Living with a dentist really sucks."

"I give you a discount on teeth whitening," she snorts. "I'm protecting your pearly whites. That dashing smile? All me."

"Yeah alright," I chuckle, trying to ease up. "Thanks for keeping my good dental hygiene in check."

She arches an eyebrow as I move my food from chopsticks into a bowl, pouring on way too much soy sauce with an oh shit look plastered on my face.

"They haven't called back yet. So what? They'll call straight away tomorrow morning. It's a business call."

How can she be so good at reading me? Unbelievable.

"What if it's a bad sign," I ask worriedly, eyes downcast. "I'm probably just imaging the worst situation, aren't I?"

"Did your boyfriend call earlier," she smirks changing the subject. I'm staring blankly at the piece of broccoli on my fork, stomach churning.

"About that...we might actually be boyfriends now. I'm not really sure though."

"How can you be confused," she makes a funny face and sips some wine. Her and her nightly wine. "And more importantly, why do you sound so bummed? Stop sulking."

"You scold me about enamel health," I joke, hoping she'll let it go. "All that red wine is going to catch up with you."

Playful eye roll. "You know I'll keep prodding so there's no use in trying to change the subject. Your energy seems different and I know it isn't just apprehension over the book news. Did something happen?"

"Way too much happened," I grunt, pushing my bowl away. I feel sick to my stomach, my appetite is fading quickly. I squeeze my eyes shut, finger pressed to my left temple. "I'd never ask him to leave behind everything that he loves for me. You know I couldn't do that. His school, his kids, his friends-"

"But he loves you. Ugh, you're so frustrating sometimes. I hate men."

"I'm gay. It doesn't count."

"You can't just use your sexuality card," she huffs angrily, arms crossing over her chest. "It isn't a get out of jail free card. A man is a man. Besides, we're best friends. Talk to me."

"We've both settled into new lives, apart from each other. Am I going to just pull him away from that? We mutually agreed that this was for the best and-"

"No, he said he'd teach you to love him again. He was willing to give it a shot. You thought it was best to forget."

"I just knew it would hurt him more if I stayed so close and didn't love him in the way that he loved me."

"Did you ever think to ask how he felt? You just left him! What if he actually would have preferred that you stayed? Even if it was a bit uncomfortable in the beginning?"

"Stop," I whisper hoarsely. "It's too late to be hypothetical. I made my decision and I need to deal with the consequences."

"Consequences," she scoffs. "You aren't being punished Harry. It's a relationship. You know...built on trust and love and loyalty. This is Zayn we're talking about here. You poured your heart over him in a book."

"Yeah," I sigh deeply, tremble in my voice. "But he doesn't know that."

"He what!?"

She sets her glass down with such force that some of the wine splashes out, stains her blouse.

"He doesn't know it's about us," I whisper truthfully. My entire body is shaking slightly. "Or that it's memories and how I coped and how my heart became connected again. It just never felt right to tell him because of Mason."

"You can't be serious," her eyes are wide in shock. "He never loved Mason you idiot! They weren't even dating."

"W-what? What do you mean?"

My palms are sweaty, I discreetly wipe them on my jeans but it's nearly impossible to hide my panic, to hide the confusion that I'm feeling.

"I've said too much," she squeaks out nervously, stuffing her face with rice.

So maybe I have withheld the truth but he never really asked about the contents of the book. He just assumed that the writing was sincere and heartfelt and always stayed encouraging. He lied to me. To protect my feelings? To make me think he had happily moved and and was no longer hurting? Did he anticipate that I'd never learn to love him again? That certainly was a possibility and somewhere in the back of his head-

Tears blur my vision. I stand up uneasily and throw on my jacket.

"Harry, where are you going?"

"Out," I yell, quiver in my voice. My legs are so unsteady, I could crumple at any moment. Either that or my heart will falter.

I slam the door behind me, slide down the wall in the hallway and allow myself to break. My fingers grip at my hair until I feel a comfortable pain. The sting is a reminder that I can truly feel. Sobs rack my body, I try to cover my cries in the crook of my elbow.

Why couldn't he just be honest with me? Did he want to keep me away? If that were his intentions, then why did he confess his undying love. I don't understand anything and maybe I should just leave it at this. Maybe I should pretend he didn't say anything at all.

Could it be life had more clarity when I couldn't remember?

This is my fault. Two years of carrying a torch for someone who can't even remember a first kiss must have been torture. He just reached his breaking point.

Of course he would act happy for me. Because I'm happy here. Or at least I thought I was.