One

Chapter Eight

"Dianne, please let me explain. It was a mistake. I never meant for it to happen!"
Dianne sighed and leaned back into her pillows. "But it did happen, you cheated on me. Why should I give you a chance?"
He took a deep breath. "Because I love you. I still love you. I still want to be with you. Just, give me some time to explain everything?"
Dianne sat in silence, lost in thought. If she gave him chance to explain, she knew she would give in. She knew she would let him back in just as easily as she had dumped him. But Dianne also knew that she shouldn't; knew that she shouldn't even be considering giving him five minutes out of her day. Yet there she was. Laid on her bed in the afternoon, battling the jet lag from Australia, contemplating giving him a second chance. A second chance he did not deserve.
"Fine," she said after a moment. "Fine. Just... just come here."
The man on the other end breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, I'll come now." Disconnecting the call, Dianne dropped her phone onto the mattress in frustration. The last thing she had wanted to do was give in but her tired brain had gotten the better of her and he would be there within an hour.
"You're an idiot," she mumbled as she hauled herself up off her bed. She changed out of her shorts and into some leggings, and threw a hoodie on over her top. Phone in hand, Dianne walked through her apartment and sat on the sofa, anxiously waiting on his arrival.

There was a soft knock on the door. Pausing the tv, Dianne slid off the sofa and walked to the door, but waited with her hand on the door handle.
"You can do this," she whispered before pushing the handle down and opening the door.
"Hi," he said with a small smile, which Dianne did not return; she just stood to the side and beckoned him in silently.
"Want anything?" She asked quietly, sounding much more on edge than she had meant to.
"Tea please." Sitting on the sofa, he watched her move about the kitchen with a sad smile. The same thing had happened less than a month ago, but the atmosphere had been completely different. They had been happy and relaxed around each other but now the atmosphere was tense and awkward. Dianne handed him a mug and sat on the other end of the sofa, her legs curled beneath her. Both sipped at their drinks, waiting for the other to speak first. Eventually, it was Dianne who made the first move.
"What do you want?" She asked, somewhat coldly.
"A second chance. I never meant for any of that to happen. I was drunk, too drunk and-"
"And what?" Dianne interrupted. "I've been 'too' drunk before but I've never cheated."
He shook his head and held up his free hand. "Let me explain."
Dianne leaned back further. "Go ahead."
"That girl, Jasmine, was an old colleague. Apparently, she's fancied me for ages."
Dianne opened her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly and let him carry on, deciding against it.
"My mates kept buying me drinks- I felt rude declining them- so I got hammered quickly. I don't really remember how it happened. I just remember her coming up to me. After that, it's... well it's a blur," he explained, looking at Dianne even though her gaze was fixated on the floor.
"So," she said calmly. "You're blaming your mates for getting you drunk."
"No I-"
Dianne held up her hand. "Let me finish. You're blaming your mates for buying you drinks, and you're blaming her for coming up to you?"
"No-"
"You are," Dianne said quickly. "You're putting the blame on everyone else. Can't you just accept that you shouldn't have done it?"
He put his now empty mug on the floor and rubbed his temples. "I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have kissed her. I shouldn't have danced with her. I shouldn't have done anything except be friendly."
"No you shouldn't. You broke my heart." Dianne felt herself being choked by tears. "You cheated on me after two years. I thought we were a strong couple, but you ruined it."
"I did." He nodded his head. "I really, really did. And I regret it. I regret it so much."
Dianne finally met his eye. "So why did you just let me walk away? I broke it off but you didn't try to stop me. Why?"
He shrugged. "I was in shock. One minute I was kissing someone, someone who wasn't you. Then the next minute, you had seen me, spoken to me, and were walking away from me. All in sixty seconds. I didn't understand. Like I said, everything was a blur."
Dianne wiped a tear from her cheek. "If this meant that much to you, you'd have chased me." Dianne stood up to leave but felt him grab her wrist. "I don't want to hear it. You broke my heart."
"I know, I know," he said desperately. "I should never have done what I did, and I won't do it again. Please, let me prove it to you. One more chance, Dianne, just one. That's all I'm asking for. Please."
She breathed deeply and turned around slowly, facing him. "Fine. You've got one chance. You make one mistake and you're out. For good."
His face relaxed into a smile as he dropped her wrist. "Thank you. I promise I won't." Pressing play on the remote, Dianne sat back on the sofa and watched the tv intently to distract herself from her own mind, which was running at 100 mph. One side of her was reassuring her, telling her that she'd made a good decision and that their relationship would be fine. The other side was putting doubts into her head, telling her firmly that she'd made a mistake, that he wouldn't be any different and he'd only break her heart again.
"I suppose only time will tell," Dianne thought to herself as she stole a glance at the man sat next to her. "Please don't hurt me again," she whispered, so quietly he didn't hear over the noise coming from the telly.

In her half-asleep state, Dianne felt the cold sheets beneath her as someone lowered her into bed, pulling the duvet over her body before kissing her lightly on the forehead. Dianne opened her eyes slightly as she saw him leave the room, closing the door behind him. As she got comfortable, Dianne let out a deep sigh and settled into the pillows.
"What have you done?" She thought before giving into sleep.

She felt an arm holding round her waist, a thumb stroking circles against her hip and, as she moved her head, she realised she was using someone's chest as a pillow. Moving her head back slightly, Dianne looked up at his face and back down again, hating the sudden rush of something she felt for him. It wasn't quite as powerful as before but Dianne definitely had butterflies from being held by him and she hated herself for it. Dianne rolled over slightly and tried to sit up, failing as the arm around her pulled her back down and closer to his body so she was facing him, him now being on his side.
"Good morning baby girl," he whispered, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Did you sleep well?"
Dianne shrugged. "No better than usual," she whispered after a pause.
"Oh," he pouted, "why's that?"
"Something called jet lag," she mumbled sarcastically.
"Well," he said, wrapping Dianne tightly in his arms, "we can go back to sleep if you like?"
"I can't go back to sleep once I've woken up," Dianne said. She tried to wriggle out of his arms but his grip was too strong. "Will you let go of me please?"
"Fine," he snapped. He removed his arms from around her body and turned over, the duvet pulled tightly up to his chin. Moving quickly, Dianne grabbed her phone from the bedside table and walked into the living room, curling up into a ball in the corner of the sofa. Tears began to escape her eyes as she fought to keep her sudden sobs silent, biting down on her lip hard and bringing her hoodie up and over some of her face. He was being controlling, well trying to be controlling, over her and she'd only let him back into her life the night before. When they'd been together originally, not once had he even shown any signs of being controlling. Maybe it's his way of showing Dianne he still loved her?

"Hey uh Joe?" Bryon called, walking into the kitchen, "have you seen this?" He passed Joe, who had been making lunch, his phone and slid onto a barstool. "Isn't that Dianne's ex?"
"Yeh..." Joe said quietly as he re-read the message on the Instagram story over and over again. It was from her ex's account and it was a picture of Dianne curled up into the corner of the sofa, her eyes focused on whatever was in front of her.
Felt so nice to wake up with you in my arms again.
Joe felt dread filter into his stomach.
"She's let him back in," he whispered, thinking out loud.
"What do you mean?" A very confused Byron asked.
Joe looked up. "He cheated on her with some girl in a club and she broke it off but then she was regretting dumping him so I told her he didn't deserve another chance and that he treated her as a throwaway when she deserves to be treated like a princess," Joe said very quickly, without taking a breath. "Oh, um. Please don't tell anyone I told you that," he added awkwardly.
"I won't don't worry. Did you actually tell her she deserves to be treated like a princess?"
"Uh." Joe winced. "Yeh?" He looked up to see Byron smiling at him.
"I'm impressed."
"Thank you," Joe smiled. Passing the phone back to Byron, Joe began drumming his fingers on the counter. Byron, who had begun walking away, turned back around with a confused look on his face.
"You only do that when you're nervous. What are you nervous about?"
"She's not happy." He pointed to Byron's phone. "If she was happy with him, she wouldn't be curled up in the corner, she wouldn't have a blank expression on her face and she would have posted something to her story, which she hasn't. But there is nothing I can do about it."
Byron shrugged. "You know her better than a lot of people, try and arrange to see her before tour rehearsals. I'm sure you mentioned something about renting a studio out before so you could go over anything?"
"Good thinking Byron, I might take her up on that offer. Thank you." Joe carried on making lunch, deep in thought. He was worried; she didn't look happy and comfortable being back around him. He was anxious for her; he didn't want to see one of his best friends be hurt again. He was angry but not with her- angry with himself for the white-hot burning feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling he knew all too well. The feeling of jealousy. The feeling of jealousy of him because he had her.