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Pain is like a spider's web. It'll start at the point of impact and spread out in tiny little threads until it takes over everywhere. The point of impact is the spider, trapping anything in its path to join the web, adding to the pain by being eaten. The funny thing is; that is before the shock happens. The shock of the incident that caused the pain, the shock of an accident.

The shock of being punched. Not only that but being punched by the man I've loved for nineteen years.

Albeit Owen punched me accidentally, he still did it. It still renders me speechless, and I only recognise I've staggered back a few steps as I come to.

"Amelia."

"Amelia."

My hand reaches up to touch the spider's web, though it's fragile like one, it doesn't break when I touch it. It doesn't wipe away and get stuck on my hand. It just hurts.

"I'm so sorry, my love," Owen exclaims.

He steps towards me, so I take a step back.

Time freezes, just like my heart. I'm a ghost watching over the scene as Joshua forces Owen against the wall and hits him once, twice, three, four, five times.

My childhood sweetheart, the man I've loved since I was twelve. I always thought I'd end up with Owen in my eighties when I'm old, grey and surrounded by grandchildren. Whatever happened, it would be me and Owen.

I was so, so wrong.

Since I can remember, I claimed to know everything about Owen; I thought I knew him like the back of my hand, like the twenty-four hours in a day.

I was so, so wrong.

I didn't account for his lying nature, his apparent savings that I knew nothing about. I didn't know his treachery, his betraying streak and how it ran so deep.

I didn't account for another man who would be the one I'm Fated to. A man who would suck me in like a spider, but instead of fear and claustrophobia, it would be with unconditional love and comfort.

"That's enough!" I call. "Leave him alone."

"Amelia, he hit you," Joshua argues. There's blood trickling down his lip, and it's taking all my heart not to clean him up right now. My veins throb with his anger, confusion, and pure pain. It mixes like thick paint with mine.

"You love him? He's eight years older than you, he's in a position of power—"

"Not anymore," I argue.

"What's he got that I haven't? We've known each other since you were born! You're throwing nineteen years of us for him?" Owen argues.

Joshua lets him go, and he slumps against the wall, blood flowing down from his nose and lip. The funny thing is, I don't even care. A few weeks ago, it would make me cry and I'd be fighting Joshua back.

Just like a spider's web, I've spun out a different way and I've changed everything. My web got knocked halfway off its hook and I've made it all over again.

"I'm not going over it again, Owen. You know what you've done. Yes, I love him. I'm in love with him. Age gap or not, tattoo or not. He hasn't lied or cheated me, spent money to try and hoodwink me. So, here's what's going to happen; you're going to let us go, never darken my door again and I won't have you done for everything you've done including common assault, domestic abuse, and grievous bodily harm," I snap.

"You get me done, you'll be coming down with me, as would he for assault," Owen returns.

"Self-defence, mate," Joshua says, the thick hatred coming through his voice.

He stays silent. I grab the last bag I left on the floor and without a word, help Joshua out of the house. The problem I have is that even if I argue, hit him or do anything that isn't taking him back, he won't listen. The best thing to do right now is leave and find his Fated One. Actions, after all, speak louder than words.

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"I'm going to have to add driving uninsured in a car that's not mine to that list of illegal activities lately," I joke as I clean up Joshua's bloodied face.

He winces as I dab at it a few more times. He's got a bruise coming up on his stomach as well, but as the blood cleans up, he's come out harmed very little more than superficially.

He chuckles. "I think the police won't really care when they see the state I'm in right now. If they find out."

"You might report me!" I joke, dabbing more antiseptic onto his lip. "I'm sorry."

"He hit pretty well for an idiot."

I snort. "You're telling me. To be fair, he got my eye, not my lip so I'm not as bad as you are."

"You have a black eye. I'm surprised you could see to drive," Joshua says. He takes the stuff in my hands and puts them down on the table. I get pulled onto his lap. "He's not worth our time. He just proved himself in terms of how much of an arsehole he is."

"I know," I answer.

"But as for the declaration of love from you? That was sweet," he whispers.

I laugh and kiss his temple. "It was a lie. All of it. I loathe you and wish I'd punched you myself."

He chuckles. "That's okay because I hate you as well. I wish I hadn't met you, and I wish I'd stayed in my home-world."

"I know for a fact you're lying," I whisper. "Because I know this is your home, so I caught you out."

His hands explore under my top, fanning the flames on my skin.

"You're meant to be waiting for the second date," I warn him.

"Well, here's my theory: I can't take you out on a date when I'm cut up black and blue, plus you're got a black eye. People will get the wrong idea."

I kiss the left side of his lips, missing the cut. "You raise a good point. But maybe I don't care what people think."

"Maybe not, but I don't want to get the rumour mill started. So, I have a solution. I will write you out an IOU – I owe you one date. You and I become official without the need for an official wine and dine session. Everybody wins."

I chuckle. "You think I can't sense the fact you totally came up with that because of the alpha male testosterone running around your body right now? You won a fight against my ex, so you want to have sex with me and feel good about yourself?"

His hand runs up and down my spine while he grins. "I mean that is a part of it, but I love you. So much that it literally got me in trouble. So much, in fact, that it does hurt. Specifically in my lips and my stomach. Sometimes in the chest, because we're connected, and it hurts when we're apart."

"Did you do a degree in poetry that I don't know about?" I joke.

"If you want me to say yes, I'll go and get one now," he retorts. "I also want you to be honest with me because you just... you know, with him... it's messy."

"He and I were done a few weeks ago. Anything I felt for him got literally punched out of me. But how about I say yes?" I whisper. "But I will need a physical IOU, and the promise of a bottle of wine that I choose."

"Fuck's sake, I wish it didn't hurt to kiss you right now."

I arch an eyebrow. "Is that a question there, Mister Anderson?"

"Will you, Amelia Nichols, be my girlfriend?"

I get off his lap and reach for his trousers. "Will this be a good enough answer?"

He chuckles. "I think it might."

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One thing that never came into my predictions for life was splitting up with Owen. I also thought he would never hurt me, physically or emotionally. I never predicted to be facing life going in the opposite direction to how I had planned. From age twelve, all I ever knew was that one day I would be living with Owen, married to him, having kids with him. All I ever knew since I was born was Owen; romantically and not romantically. He was my only friend for a long time, my only love.

Joshua is standing at the front, teaching, because he has to fulfil his notice for the rest of the semester. He sat there and told them about our relationship, and though they can't move my classes, they have someone else to mark my work, and a 'teaching assistant' – just another lecturer in reality – sit in all of my lectures with him so nothing untoward happens.

Sam's eyes have not moved from my black eye and Joshua's beaten-up face since I met up with her, and despite me explaining what happened, and having her add more makeup to it, she will not drop it.

"What happened to your face, Joshua?" Ryan calls.

"Bar fight," Joshua retorts. "Had one too many and bet the other guy I could kick his arse. As you can see, it didn't work out. Next question."

"Bullshit," Ryan retorts.

"Do you really want me to go down the boring sociological theory route of the lecture and make you do an essay right now? Because if you carry on, I will. That's one hundred per cent a threat," Joshua jokes.

I looked at his notes; I know he hasn't got it in him. He's not even qualified for this shit; he's just looked at Josh's notes, which he purposefully made before they did the Declaration for this very reason. He can bullshit his way to the end of the semester, just about.

"Did you and Amelia fight? She's got a black eye; you have a beaten up face. Did you hit a girl—"

"No, but I will kick your fucking arse, Ryan. Shut the fuck up." I cut the idiot off. "I don't pay nine grand a year to sit here and listen to you chat shit."

"Sor-ry," he chants back.

"All right, that's enough, you two," Joshua cuts in. His eyes hover over me for a single second, but I can feel his appreciation in my veins. "Anyway, back to the task at hand, people—"

"Girl, what the fuck? This is—"

Sam's voice cuts off when my phone buzzes on the table. I almost laugh; Josh would call me out for having my phone on the table. I know for a fact Joshua won't give two shits. In fact, it's probably him sending me love heart emojis.

I glance at it quickly.

'Hey, Amelia, long time no speak! I'm actually still in Southampton, just on the outskirts. What did you wanna chat about? I'd love to meet up! I'm free tomorrow or Friday. Let me know, Sophia.'

"Well, shit," I whisper and show Sam the phone.

"Wow, maybe this will solve a lot of the problems," she says. "Or make more of them. Are you sure you wanna get involved? You broke up with him, moved out. Surely that's the end? Especially after what he did."

Joshua's voice fades out as he sits on his laptop, leaving everyone to do something I wasn't listening to. I glance across to him and his eyes meet mine for another brief second. He can feel my emotions, and I see the small nod he understands that something has happened.

"I just don't understand why you'd care about her and him when it's all done. You have your happy ending, you know?" Sam asks.

"It's about getting him to see the truth. See the mess he's created. Maybe if he sees what the real connection is like, he'll understand what he's done to me and accept that we're over," I say.

"Hm, fair enough," Sam says.

I tap a message back to Sophia: 'Hey! Sure, tomorrow is good with me. Just let me know what time. It's probably better I explain in person. But just let me know what time and I'll be there. Amelia.'

I glance up and quickly tap a message out to Joshua, including a screenshot of what was said to Sophia. I then put: 'By the way, the grey trousers/white shirt combo is definitely working right now.' I add a wink face and heart emoji before sending it and putting my phone down.

I glance over at him as he reads the message. His eyes go wide in shock before he reads the second message and gives a small smile.

My phone buzzes a few minutes later. 'You absolutely shouldn't have worn that dress. It's not helping the cause. The things I'll do to you later shouldn't be written down.'

I don't respond for fear of not being able to control myself and getting him fired before he's worked his notice. It buzzes once more, and I glance at the message from Joshua: 'Check your purse.'

I narrow my eyes, put the phone down and go into my bag. I grab my purse and open it up. He's done two things; he's put my real Fated One card in there, and then added a yellow post-it-note in there. I unfold it and see the IOUnote he promised me yesterday. 'IOU two wine and dine dates. Love you. Joshua xx.'

I roll my eyes and smirk. His satisfaction shines through my veins, making me roll my eyes harder.

"I mean, I can't believe Owen would do all that shit. I can't believe you haven't gone to the police," Sam whispers.

I sigh. "There's no point. As much as I'd like him to suffer, I run the risk of one of us getting in trouble as well. I'm better than that, and I care more about him than I do Owen."

She thinks about that for a second. "Yeah, fair one. I just... how can he get away with that?"

"Easily. Because he's a manipulator, and he did it all without anyone else knowing," I point out.

We both groan quietly.

"Well, the silver lining of all this? You get an upgrade," she says. "He's leaving, so I can say it. He's hot."

I grin. "I know."

"Are you over Owen? Like... you were together all your lives. You seem so... well, you know?" she asks.

I type for a minute before answering. "I think I am. Mostly. It'll hit me eventually. Pun intended. But he hurt me long before now, I worked it out before it kicked off, so I kind of had that break up hurt before yesterday. I think the tether with the Knot is helping a little bit, like because I've found my Fated One, it doesn't hurt as much. I don't know if that makes sense. His actions mean that the heartbreak isn't as bad as it would be as if... I don't know, we just broke up normally."

She holds my hand for a second. "If you need to go out and get hammered, I'm here for you. Or if you wanna go out for a ridiculous three-course meal that makes you bloat like a fish, I'm here for you."

I chuckle. "I might take you up on that offer. Just... after the black eye has calmed down. It took a lot to come here this morning."

"I wanna punch him myself."

"So do I. Trust me, so do I."

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