How to Fix a Broken Heart.

Chapter One.

- SEVEN YEARS LATER -

"What?" My voice is barely an audible whisper as it fights against the tears and whimpers that threaten to come out.

"I'm sorry." Jack has tears forming in his eyes too.

Why is he doing this if it's hurting him?

"You don't mean that." I shake my head at him, my tears falling from my eyes and running down my cheeks as I take a step backwards.

"I do. I'm so sorry Ella, I really am, the last thing I want to do is hurt you." He steps forward.

"Then why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice gradually coming out of its whisper.

"Because it's not fair on you. You shouldn't be stuck with someone who doesn't love you. You deserve more than that." He places his hand on my arm, looking into my eyes with the most sympathetic look I've ever seen.

"We've been together for twelve years, how is that not love?" I stare at his hand; knowing that I should move it, but not wanting to. I don't move it. "That's half our lives."

He sighs. "That's exactly why. We haven't known any other relationship than our own, so how are we supposed to know that it is love? We have no other kisses, no other hugs, no other intimate-"

"Is there someone else?" I interrupt, my eyes staring directly into his. They failed to captivate me during such a heart breaking moment, and so I was able to notice the look that was in them as he spoke about others. I've been seeing that look since my teenage years. It is the same look that Evan has whilst talking to or about Sienna, and vice versa. It is the look that Jack was supposed to give me.

"What? No! I-" He retracts his hand from my arm and retreats two steps backwards.

"I have known you for twenty years Jack Thomas, don't you dare insult me by lying to me!" My voice echoes around the living room of the house we had bought together just one year ago.

He rubs his face and sighs. "I don't know Ella, okay? Around her I just feel.. Different. It feels good, but, I dont have anything to compare it to because I have only ever known you."

My sobs are uncontrollable now. I collapse to the floor, my body shaking violently, as tears stream from my bloodshot eyes. "I thought you were my fairy tale ending."

He can't love me at all if he is looking at another woman. I don't want to let him go, but my love alone is not enough to keep a relationship going. Twenty years of being best friends, twelve years of being lovers, and this is how he thanks me. By shattering my heart and then stomping on all of the tiny little pieces that are left scattered over the floor. He doesn't love me. He doesn't love me at all.

"This is real life, El. It doesn't have fairy tale endings." He speaks with sorrow, his breathtaking blue eyes a dark shade that I have never seen before.

Without thinking, my fingers reach for the white gold ring that my left hand has been wearing proudly for the last six months. Jack shakes his head as I begin to take it off, walking over to me and crouching in front of me as I remain in the floor.

He places his hand over mine for a moment, before moving it away from the single diamond engagement ring. "I bought that for you, and only you. It could never be anyone else's, it's yours. I want you to keep it."

I stare into his eyes for a little longer than I should, our life together replaying in his dark pupils. Each moment we thought we'd be re-living in a retirement home together, not now as we are breaking up. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

I remember his proposal, and how we swore to each other that we would never love anyone else. We promised our lives to each other.

He had taken me to where we had our first 'date' when we were kids - a park that was half way between our parents' houses. He remembered how I had admired the view from the slide at night, so we sat there and counted the stars. There wasn't many that night, only three or four, but he claimed they were spelling out a message. When I asked what that message was, he asked me to marry him.

A last salty droplet escapes my eye and leaves a black, make up stained, trail as it runs down my cheek. Wiping it away with a finger, I swear to myself that it'll be the last time Jack ever sees me showing any sort of emotion towards him. "I don't want it. What am I supposed to do with an engagement ring when I'm not even engaged?"

Jack deflates. I know that I've hit a nerve by not wanting his expensive ring, and I'm secretly proud that I've managed to give him just a dose of what pain he is causing me right now. "I don't know, Ella. It's a keepsake, a reminder of our relationship."

"What if I don't want a reminder?" My voice is more bitter than I had intended it to be, but I dont mind. Maybe my bitterness will do me a favour.

Jack's mouth hangs open and flaps like a suffocating fish as he desperately searches for the words he wants to say to me. It snaps shut and his lips press together tightly. Everything is silent for a minute. Just until I find the strength to stop my voice from shaking.

"I don't want any reminders." I stare into his cobalt eyes. They used to melt my heart, but now looking into them stabs sharp daggers into the fragile organ instead. "I'll find somewhere else to stay and you can buy me out of the mortgage or sell the house. I'll take Oreo too, since he was a present for me."

Upon hearing his name, my one year old pup bolts out from his bed in the kitchen and jumps up on me ecstatically. I silently thank him for unknowingly showing his enthusiasm for losing his daddy and moving into a new place with just his mummy.

I watch as Oreo bounces over to Jack, his tongue ferociously licking at his hands as he fusses the energetic puppy. Jack's hands gently stroke the dog's soft fur and slowly find their way to the strip of white fur that wraps around his neck. I close my eyes.

Jack had bought Oreo for me as a birthday present. We chose him together, and when we brought him home we sat and thought of a name. I had suggested Rover or Patch, but Jack said those names weren't quite right and it had to be perfect.

We laughed at how our new pet was all black, apart from a ring around the bottom of his neck which was pure white. It was when I joked about him looking like an Oreo that we had an epiphany. The name was perfect for him.

Jack had been fond of his white little neck ever since. He always subconciously stroked the white patch and my chest aches over the fact that he still does it now.

"Okay."

That's all Jack says before heading in to the spare bedroom for the night. And that's when I realise that this is really happening. It's really over.