No Control (Book 1)

51. Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

I walked blindly into the departure lounge, barely able to see where I was going. I pulled my phone out of my bag with trembling hands and unlocked the screen. I hesitated for a moment, unsure who to call, then scrolled through my contacts to Calvin's number. Before I could press call the screen lit up. Incoming Call - Harry Styles.

I hastily diverted it and went back to my contacts to call Calvin. I waited, with my phone to my ear but it wouldn't connect. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and tried again, but was cut off by another call from Harry. I furiously diverted it again and finally managed to dial out to Calvin. I had no idea what time it was back home; I couldn't think straight. I prayed it wasn't the middle of the night.

Calvin answered on the third ring: "What's he done?"

I said nothing, but let out a sob.

"Jess? What's the matter? Has he hurt you?"

"Will you pick me up from Heathrow when my flight lands?" I managed to choke out.

"What? Where are you? What's happened?"

"He's been fucking Taylor Swift," I said, not caring how crass I was being.

"I will fucking break his legs," Calvin breathed.

"No you won't. He's not worth it," I sobbed. "Please, just pick me up from the airport. I can't face getting in one of Harry's cars and going back to an empty flat." I closed my eyes. It actually hurt my heart to say his name.

"I can't, Jess, I'm sorry. My car's in the garage, waiting for a part to be delivered on Monday." Calvin sounded genuinely distressed.

I sobbed again.

"Get his car to take you to Mum and Dad's. I'll get the train first thing in the morning and meet you there?"

"OK," I sniffed.

"Was he really fucking Taylor Swift?"

"Yes!" I wailed.

"Jesus fucking Christ. He is going to pay for this."

"No, please, Calvin. I don't want any fuss," I said in between sobs. "I can't stand being humiliated any more than I already have been. I'm not asking for his sake, I'm asking for mine. Please. Don't do anything that might attract any attention to me."

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. "Alright," Calvin said. "But for you, not for him."

"Thank you," I sighed.

In the earpiece I heard a double beep, and I pulled my phone away from my ear and saw Harry was on Call Waiting. I cancelled it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Calvin asked.

"No," I said. "And please don't tell anyone about this. I don't want people laughing at me for being a pathetic, gullible loser."

"No one will laugh at you, Jess," he said softly, and the pity in his voice brought a fresh wave of tears.

"I'm such an idiot," I cried.

"You're not, you just fell for a smooth talker. You're not the first and you won't be the last."

"Don't," I muttered, feeling sick at the thought of Harry with anyone else. "I'm going to go. I don't want to talk about it."

"OK," Calvin replied. "But call me if you do want to talk, OK?"

I agreed, and ended the call. Immediately my phone lit up again with another call from Harry but I cancelled it again. I shoved it in my bag and headed into the toilets to check out my reflection. As I suspected, I looked horrendous. My mascara was smudged all down my face and my eyes were red and puffy. I heard text messages coming through on my phone, but ignored them while I tried to repair my makeup so I didn't look like something from a horror film.