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"You don't just get to come back here and pretend things haven't change." I yelled at him outside my apartment, "Things haven't changed! I still love you." he grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me gently, then clutches my face.
There is a moment of silence.
"Eight years and you still drive me fucking crazy." he smiled softly at me, and the rain is heavy, in the cliche way. Harry leans in closer to me, moving wet strands of hair from my face, and as our lips are inches apart I hear a voice.
"What the fuck is going on?" and Roman is staring right at us.

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1. Part One

We stood in the bar playing pool, Roman threw back another beer.

"Are you going to pretend that you're good at pool all night?" I asked him, and walked over to him with the pool cue in hand, and he smirked at me and wrapped an arm around my waist, "You know, that attitude of yours is going to get you in trouble one day." And he kisses me ever so softly.

I laughed, and pulled back from him.

"Don't think just because you've kissed me I'm going to take it easy on you." I laughed at him, and knocked him, and I smiled at him.

Roman was the first person who had made me feel like all the bad had a purpose. I felt like I could breath and be alive all at the same time. Roman wasn't perfect and he never claimed to be, that's what I loved about him.

Roman got into fights, but he was proud to admit that. Roman kissed other girls when we were dating, but he never lied about it. Roman was all the things that my mother had warned me to stay away from, but at the same time she had always told me to be with an honest man, so I went for the second option.

Roman had locks of black hair that he always wore slicked back, or at least smoothed back a little. Brooding eyes, and the whitest skin I'd ever seen. Cheek bones that would cut you if you touched them.

I turned around from him and walked over to my edge of the table that faced the bar. I knocked my red ball in, in one shot. Roman rolls his eyes, and picks up his cigarette from the behind his ear.

"Here, you get the drinks in, I'm going for a smoke." He told me and handed me a twenty, he winked at me before disappearing through the back door.

I walked over to the bar and waited patiently for a server to get to me.

This may be hard for you to comprehend, but I could feel that things were too perfect. I knew something or someone was about to bring it all crashing down. The events I am telling you are all true. This isn't just another romance novel. It might seem dramatic, but this isn't a long, slow build-up.

I felt a familiar hand touch my arm, and a faint voice uttered my name, "Evelyn?" he spoke, and I turned feeling a shiver down my spine.

I faced him, and didn't utter a word, I simply stared at him.

"Is that how you greet an old friend?" he smirked at me, with the devil dancing on his lips. "What are you doing here?" I asked him, and my eyes flicker to the door where Roman is standing outside, I feel my heart rate get faster. I start to sweat.

For once, I am grateful that some red-head with too much make-up is trying to flirt with him, it gives me time to extinguish this old flame from the situation.

"Here to see you, obviously." he told me, "Harry." I warned, folding my arms across my chest.

"What, it's true? Your mom told me you'd be here." He shrugged, "Why are you talking to my mom?" I frowned again, and he laughed. "Eve." He leant down to brush my long hair from my shoulder.

I shake him off.

"I went to your house. My dad is moved back in town, I've offered to help him move all his things in. I thought it was a perfect opportunity to catch up." He tells me, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"You can't just call on me like this. You can't just come back here, you know that." I snapped at him, and tug his arm around the corner to prevent Roman from seeing him. "Why not? You used to love it." He moved closer to me, and I place my hand haltingly on his chest, and he smirked down at me.

I am flooded with memories of nights in the same bar I stand in now, but with Harry. Similar, but not the same, black locks hold his hair, but he tends to wear his long, or only slightly slicked back. Harry wears curls. Roman wears suits, tight fitting suits, he's the most unlikely thug. Harry wears ripped black jeans, and a white shirt, or a black shirt, or a grey shirt.

They are different, not the same.

I convince myself that I haven't just traded up for a new model.

"I'm here with someone else." I tell him, and suddenly his six foot three figure moves back from my five foot five, revealing me to the poor bar lighting.

"It didn't take you long to move on." He almost seethes at me, but he holds his tongue. "You've been gone for eight years, Harry." I attempt to comfort him. "We were together for those years." He shook his head.

"Harry, you left me, or are you forgetting that part?" he looks away from me as I talk, almost reliving the night he left, but the look on his face tells me it doesn't still hurt him the way he hurt me.

The thing was that Harry had to leave. We got into trouble. A lot of it, and I made every effort to remove myself from that part of my life. I even changed my name. My full name was Evelyn Ade Santiago, I dropped the Evelyn when he left. Soon enough, after a change of name, address, and hair colour, it almost easy to convince the people that I wasn't Ade, I was Evelyn, her cousin. That's why we looked so alike.

But, eventually everyone who ever knew me left town, we were a small knit group. Eventually, nobody remembered me.

"Where's this boyfriend, then? How long have you two been dating? Maybe we can share stories about how good you are in bed. Or, we can bond over how good you are at giving head." He lists the possibilities, and pretend to be shocked by his vulgar nature.

"Harry, that's enough." I snapped at him, and he rolled his eyes, "I told you I'd come back for you, I told you it just wasn't the right time. Do you know what the cops would have done if they'd had known it was me? It was different it being you. You were the golden girl, 30hours of community survive, me? I'd be in prison." He moves closer again, becoming angry at me.

"Harry, I wasn't going to wait around for you. I was sixteen, and ready to see the world, and you just left me in a heap load of crap. So, I went and did all those things we were going to do, but by myself. I took responsibility for the mistakes we made." I frowned at him, and feel my voice crack.

"So, what, now you're twenty-four, and you've found the love of your life, who isn't me?" he cocked his head. "I never said that." I defend myself, "You don't get what we had, twice. You get it once. With me." He told me, and I sighed deeply.

"Eight years hasn't changed me. I still love you." He tells me, and I tell him to shut up. "But, I do." He tells me again, desperately. I shake my head, "You don't even know me. If you loved me, you wouldn't have left. People change in eight years." I snapped at him.

"Ade!" I heard my name by that sweet, rough voice. Me and Harry both turn, and I can feel that I am red in the face. "Did you get the drinks in?" he walks over confidently, and with his hands in his grey trouser pockets. I smiled sweetly at him, shaking my head.

"Who's this?" Roman finally spoke, when he reached me, seeing I was talking to a boy who wasn't him.

I looked to Harry for a moment, praying he wouldn't open with: We used to bang.

"I'm Harry." He smiled at Roman, sticking his hand out, with Roman takes without blinking. "How do you two-..." I cut Roman off, "Friends. We were friends when we were younger." I lied to him, with a smile, convincing him.

"Oh well. You want to grab a beer with us?" Roman shrugs, oblivious. I knew he'd tell him where to shove it if he knew me and Harry had dated. Harry smirked down at me, and I shook my head in small shakes. "I would love too." He told Roman, and walked to the bar with him.

I quickly moved over to the pool table again. I had to think of something, anything. I didn't want Harry to convince Roman what we had was better than what I have with Roman, now.

Roman would punch him if I asked, maybe that was the answer. Tell him Harry had made a move on me, and I felt violated, he'd punch him without my asking if I told him that. Harry's face didn't deserve that though, it deserved more of a bitch slap, not a heavy punch on a hand that wore rings, which would easily get stuck in his face, causing blood to spill over this bar floor.

They soon came back over to me. Harry smirked at me, and handed me a drink, I nodded him a slow thank you. I smiled up at Roman, and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, and he gave my bum a squeeze. "Behave yourself." I muttered in his neck, and he smiled.

"So, Harry, how far back do you two go?" Roman moved around me, and set up the balls again on the pool table. "Oh, you know, we just grew up together, we've always been close." Harry shrugged, and smirked over at me. I prayed for the ground to swallow me up the more he spoke.

"Oh, yeah?" Roman sucked his teeth, as he lined up the first shot. "Oh yeah, we always had fun." And I can assure you Harry bit down on his lip at me. The balls then cracked and Roman offered the cue over to Harry, who took it and gave me a thankful nod.

Roman began to roll a cigarette between his fingers, and eventually put it behind his ear.

"You used to be quite the shot, you still got it?" and as Harry leans over the bar, I see him in the exact same position, only eight years ago, looking at me with the same smile.

"You know I do." I fight back smirking at him, because he doesn't deserve the satisfaction of making me smile, or even feeling that he has.

I glance at Roman and his eyes are staring intensely at Harry. "Prove it." Harry stands up and offers me his shot, and I sigh deeply and face him. "You need to leave." I whisper as I face him, I take the cue and his smile tugs at half of his lips.

He leans down to my ear, and I am very aware of two things. Harry's breath on my neck and Roman's eyes on me. "You can't get rid of me that easily." He muttered softly.

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