Rolling over in bed, I'm thrown off without the warm body beside me. Tiredly, I sit up a little in this large bed, moving the covers off my body. Four in the morning, according to the green numbers on the clock. I get out of his bed and move around Finn, who is asleep by the door.

I let myself out, beyond tired. The kitchen light is on, dimmed and softly illuminating the room. My arms cross over my chest, and my eyes fall on him in a black shirt and a hand in his hair as he sits at the island. My eyes fall on a glass on the counter, almost empty with a brown liquid. Beside that sits an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey.

"Louis," I whisper, frowning as his eyes snap open to reveal red lines etched over the whites of them. "Are you drinking because of me?"

"I'm drinking because that was the first time I've said that out loud since it happened," he states lowly. My heart is heavy, and I swallow. I sit to his right, my hand gently touching his arm. He lowers it from his hair, away from my touch, and clears his throat.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask softly. He stares at the drink on the counter with his lips pursed together. He's holding back, deciphering whether or not he wants to talk about it. I can see that it's difficult, and I don't expect much at all. I couldn't imagine going through what he has gone through.

"Mark threatened or intimidated her to get his way with something, and she called me, crying while driving. She never fully told me what he said. I could hear the crash, her scream, and then it went silent. He still won't tell me to this day either, knowing fully well that whatever he said got her into that crash."

My body is still. Frozen. My heart is stuck in my throat. I don't think he'd want an apology for something like that, and I don't know what to say. Stress lines form above his brow, and I feel nauseous myself.

"We were together for three and a half years, almost four. I wanted to marry her. I didn't think I'd ever find anyone else," he states lowly. "I stopped talking to everyone for a while. I didn't do anything. Hell, I didn't even want to be on that trip where I had met you. I only talked to you because, for a moment, you looked like her. You don't, but for a split second, you did, out of the corner of my eye, and you were wearing the same necklace I had gotten her. You were my first since her, and I beat myself up over it. It felt wrong until I saw you again at that party. I thought it had to be a sign at that point. I don't know."

"You stopped drinking because of that," I acknowledge quietly, my eyes flickering to his drink. He stays silent. "Maybe you should stop," I whisper, moving the glass away. He doesn't say anything, but the heaviness is felt in the air. "I can't imagine what you've gone through. I don't even know what to say," I admit quietly.

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and his eyes screw shut. He takes a heavy breath in, and his muscles are tense. I frown. My heart is heavy with guilt. "Do you want to talk about her?" I offer, wondering if it will help somehow. He shakes his head and clears his throat, removing his hand from his face. I wait, knowing he doesn't want to be poked or prodded.

"Where did you get that necklace?" he asks lowly, throwing me off. My lashes flutter, and my head tilts a little.

"I don't know what I wore on that trip," I answer honestly, disappointed that I have no idea. I have one that I wear lots of, but I have no idea what I wore that night.

He suddenly reaches, and his fingertips find the chain around my neck. His warm fingertips brush against my skin, and goosebumps rise instantly. I look down at the silver chain with a diamond fixated inside a swirling heart. "Don't tell me he gave that to you," he states lowly. My stomach twists, and I reach back to unhook it. I hold it, examining the old yet elegant gift.

"My Nana passed away, and she wore it all the time. A gift from her husband that I had never met, and I barely knew her. She passed not long after Tom and Isabella adopted Jason and me. It was her way of telling me I was special and belonged to the family. I don't know how old it is, but it was the first I felt at home with them."

I let him take it, his eyes lingering over the jewel. My eyes gaze over it and how the diamond glistens under the light. "Looks exactly like what I gave her," he mumbles lowly.

"Do you want me to stop wearing it around you?"

He shakes his head and hands it back over. I twirl it between two fingers and let out a heavy sigh. He says he thought it was a sign from her, but I wonder if it was a sign from my Nana that I found the person that would help change things for the better, the one person that would get me out of that relationship. If I hadn't met him, I'd never have gotten the courage to leave.

Except I regret running already.

As much as it upset me that my friends had never noticed, I hate the idea of losing some of the best people I had ever met. Four in total, all at once. I couldn't care less if I never saw Josh again, and I worry the others will never forgive me. He probably already told them some lie, making him out to be the innocent one.

"He kept telling me that if I left him," I start, changing the subject. "If I left him, no one would want me, and even dug down deep by telling me not even my birth parents wanted me. He really drove a sharp knife into my back. He also made threats about ending me, and I just ran."

"I'm tempted to just flatten him out on the ground the next time I see him," he grumbles.

"Don't waste your time. He'll try to get you off the team or suspended or whatever. What matters is that I am away from him, safe and sound," I refuse, softly touching his arm. Only he moves his arm from my touch, which takes a toll on my stomach. With her on his mind, he's being distant emotionally and physically. It stings a little. No, that's a lie. It stings a lot, but what can I do? He misses her. The girl he called the love of his life is the one he'd rather be around right now. He won't say that, but it's clear as day, weighing me down even more.

His blue eyes meet mine, and there's an intensity in his gaze. "You've done a lot for me already. I feel terrible hiding out here, especially after already upsetting you to the point of drinking again. I don't want to keep burdening you."

"You're not a burden," he states, eyes locking with mine. "Don't let whatever bullshit he fed you alter how you think of yourself."

I look away, a strain evident in my chest. I won't say another word. How is it that I ran from Josh, finally, and still feel like a dark cloud is looming over me? Free, at last, but I don't think that it's over at all.

"I hate doing this," he starts lowly, his voice so quiet that it makes me queasy. Another frustrated sigh leaves him, and he clears his throat. Whatever he has to say isn't good. "I can't stop thinking about Elena after I told you about her last night. All of this guilt hit me out of nowhere, all over again. I need to think things through before we do anything again."

Just like that, a crushing pain tears through my insides. I refuse to look at him to show that I'm hurt. I'm winded and torn. We were never official, and I just left my boyfriend. Maybe I had hoped that my ending things with Josh would set things in stone with him. I don't blame him for wanting space, but now I'm stuck here in this flat with someone who doesn't want to pursue anything. It's not a break-up when we were never officially together, but my insides have shredded entirely. I don't know what to do. I can't bear to look at him.

"I don't want you to leave, either. I want you to stay, to make sure you're safe. I don't want you running off and disappearing, never to be heard from again. I don't want to stop talking to you at all. I just need to hold back and some time to think. It's messing with my head so much. I got into it, believing in those signs, and now it's like everything has come to a halt after telling you about Elena. I don't want you to be upset or to hate me for doing this now that you're officially away from him. I just need a little time to process it all."

"I understand," I whisper, trying to keep some of my demeanour. My throat is tight and dry. My muscles are rigid. He's just asking for a little space. It's not the end of the world, but now I'm stuck. He doesn't want me to leave, but I don't want to be here. I'm already on edge, having left Josh. I don't want to be around Louis with this need for him very much alive when he wants space. Sleeping here, seeing him and not being able to lay in those arms or kiss those lips feels devastating. It's too much on my chest. "I think I will leave in the morning," I finalise.

"Megan, I don't want you to go. I don't want you up and disappearing from everyone, including me. I'm just trying to deal with all of this damn guilt. I'm not going to push you away fully or ignore you. It's just-"

I stop him by touching his arm. His eyes lock with mine, and there's an intense heaviness in my chest. I smile weakly, this nausea creeping up within me. This time his arm doesn't leave my touch. "It's alright, really. It's not like I'm changing my number or ditching my phone. I will find something. Maybe spend the night with Jason tomorrow, asking him and my parents not to tell anyone, and I'll admit that I've left Josh and need time alone. The only thing is, he knows where I live and where Jason lives, so I'll probably find a hotel or something. I'm not running away from you, but you don't need this added stress. Me being here won't help you at all."

"You leave, and you're not coming back. I just know it will happen," he refuses. I frown, my heart in two. My shoulder lifts as I give up.

"I don't want to be here in London, cooped up in this flat when you need some time to think. That's pretty major, and I don't blame you at all for it. I don't know if I'd be able to move past something like that," I note. I look away and find it difficult to breathe. "I'll figure something out. It's not permanent, and it's just until things settle and I figure things out."

"She can stay with me," someone else interrupts, making my heart jump in my chest. I turn to find Mia, bags under her eyes and her hair a chaotic mess. "I couldn't sleep either, thinking of Elena, then heard you two talking. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help but hear."

"I don't want you to leave. I'm just stressed," Louis sighs heavily, hand in his hair. I gulp, knowing I'm the cause of this. I feel dreadful and shouldn't be causing all this stress.

"Really, I'll go to Jason for a night. I haven't seen my brother in a while. Then go on from there. You've done enough for me, and I appreciate everything."

"No, seriously, I have a spare room in my flat. I was looking for a roommate after mine left, but it's in Manchester. An hour's drive. It still has a bed and is still furnished. It'll be temporary, but hell, if you wanted it to be permanent, I wouldn't mind. That way, you can have your own bed for a little while, Josh would have no idea where to find you, and both Louis and Jace would know where you are. Win-win, all around, but you need to let your parents and brother know that you're alright before your friends worry them and make them think you went missing."

I nibble on my bottom lip, knowing that's probably the best bet. I can always email my professors and tell them I'll be out for a week or two, acting like I've become ill. I'll do assignments from there, pretty well hidden, with time to figure out when and how I can return to campus. That's if I ever do go back. When did my life become such a mess?

"I'm not trying to kick you out by any means," Louis informs me lowly.

"I know, but you do need to be alone for now. That's a lot to think about," I nod slowly. My stomach is in knots, and my chest is tight. Going to Mia's apartment may be the only option for me. I hate leaving like this, but will sticking around and sleeping on the couch or kicking him to the couch help? I doubt it. "Alright. I'll do it," I give in. Louis' face drops subtly. I'd hardly notice if I weren't paying attention. "You know it's for the best. Besides, you know where I'll be, and I'm sure she will give you updates every two minutes."

"Most likely," she lets out a tiny laugh.

"Maybe just for a week. Maybe things will simmer down, and I can come back to campus and avoid Josh at all costs. We both need to think it through," I sigh. We fall silent, a heaviness floating in the air. My lips press together, and I breathe out slowly.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, sorrow laced in those blue eyes.

"Don't be," I whisper, restraining myself from touching him again—another reason to go. I've become more attached to him over time, and it would be impossible not to touch him or gaze at him in the way I have. "Things happen. I probably shouldn't jump into anything anyways, just getting out of that relationship. Some free time for myself as well." He soaks in my words, his eyes becoming more distant. I try to smile, to mask the sadness consuming me. "I'm going back to bed so we can leave whenever you're ready to," I announce softly, standing up. Mia nods, looking at Louis with worried eyes. My arms cross over my chest, and I start back for the bedroom.

That never-ending numbness caused by Josh still lurks inside and torments me some more. Josh was right. My birth parents never wanted me, and my friends will no longer want anything to do with me. The one person who has made me feel alive now wants some time away from me—a justifiable reason I can't complain about.

My body feels weak as I let myself back into his bedroom. This universe is out to get me, and I'm slowly giving up.