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People have always intrigued me; they just go about their day with little to no thought about anyone else. Especially in Britain where people are anti-sociable, people generally ignore everyone else. It's only now that I realise why people don't look or talk to others when they're walking around, going about their day. They just get lost in their own problems and can't see beyond them. The man sitting on the other side of the bench has been talking into his phone about something he's annoyed about, and a part of me wants to talk to him but both he and I are lost in our own troubles.

It's ten minutes until I'm due to meet Sophia and Joshua here, and as I sip my coffee from another takeout place, I start feeling the bitter chill of nerves arising and making my teeth chatter.

"Staring at the building isn't going to make it any easier, you know."

I turn to see Joshua approach with a bunch of lilies in hand.

"You never know. Maybe the one time I try it, it'll work. Don't knock it till you try it," I joke before standing up.

He hands out the flowers in my direction. "Okay, so I looked this up earlier and the lily has an association with the angels. And, well, you are my angel, and I thought after everything, being associated with camellias might be awkward."

I chuckle and take the bouquet. "That's so sweet. Thank you."

The tiny, little nugget of knowledge flows between us that he's done this before we go in on purpose, to make a statement. While I cringe at the idea, I will never say no to a bunch of flowers.

"How did it go with... Reece, is it?" I ask.

He nods, and I can feel the sort of satisfaction within him. It must have gone all right.

"It's exactly what I thought. Eye for an eye, but in the drifting sense." He keeps his voice low so no one can hear us. "He said to give her his details and he can help her out. If she does what I went through, she should be fine because you know, she has Owen. But the problem lies in her Knot. But that's also none of our concern. We give her the details, and we get out."

I sigh. "It's not that simple, though, is it? If she chooses to stay here and goes through all of that, he could – and probably will – reject her and try and get me in the frame for it. We have matching tattoos, Josh."

He chuckles. "We're going back to using nicknames again?"

"Now you're here permanently, yeah, why not?" I retort.

"You don't have matching tattoos," he answers. "Should Owen ever go to the authorities, they'll know what to look out for, and if it comes to it, I can vouch for it, show them where to look and what to look for. All isn't lost—"

"You buying my girl flowers, you piece of shit—"

If I didn't know the truth about Owen faking his Knot, I would almost believe we were Fated as he strides across the road to confront us. It's as if he knew the whole time that we're standing here, it's as if he could feel it. But that's impossible.

"Your girl?" I demand.

Owen stands between Joshua and me, his back to me, his fists furling by his side.

"I would just back off—"

People intrigue me, but they also frustrate me at the same time. I suppose if Joshua has taught me anything it's that there is a very fine line between love and hate. Though it wasn't this Joshua that I hated. But the principle is still there.

It intrigues and frustrates the hell out of me how Owen cannot get it through his thick skull that I'm not his; I'm not his girl, and I am not his Fated One, no matter how much he may have paid to make it look convincing.

"Owen, leave him alone!" I move to stand like a referee between them. "We're not here for this shit. Look, I found Sophia—"

"Who?" Owen demands.

It's only now that I notice the six people standing around us, staring, a couple with their phones out. I think one woman is phoning the police, but I can't quite make out what's going on. I hope they do, anyway. Maybe the police are exactly what Owen needs.

"Oh, don't act so childish; your Fated One. I found her, and she's on her way—"

"I don't need her, Amelia, I need you. We are Fated—"

"You're deluded, right? You admitted what you did, Owen."

"I'm less deluded than this guy. Amelia, he's older—"

"Come on, Amelia, let's just go home. This is ridiculous."

"Shut up."

I take a single step away. The tension both around me and within me is palpable, like the thick icing on a wedding cake. The adrenaline is rushing through me enough for both Joshua and me, and I swear I can feel Owen's as well. But I know that's because I've known him all my life, and it's not the tether I once thought it was.

I know they're yelling at each other, but my ears just don't take it in. The pulsating blood in my ears is just too loud, the anger is far too much.

Pain is subjective, and while I would say I have a high tolerance for it, there have been two moments where I would say I've had a very low tolerance. One of those times was when Owen punched me; though I would say that was more the shock and the confusion having a psychological effect more than actual pain.

The second time is the moment Owen's fist lands a blow on Joshua's nose. The flowers in my hand drop to the ground, my hands shoot out to my nose, and I feel my bones hit out in retaliation, as if we're both being bottled.

"Amelia?"

When you break something, it'll break into a thousand tiny little pieces when you get it at the right place. Both my heart and my nose break into tiny pieces; mainly because I can feel the pain and anger through my veins, but also because I can see the pure confusion riddled within Owen. He approaches me, his eyes widened and fixated on my hand that covers my nose to try and stem the pain.

My eyes hover past him and I see the blood coming from Joshua's nose, but the pain is so breath-taking, that I can't seem to bring it in me to move towards him.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Owen asks.

"No, she's feeling my pain," Joshua pipes up.

Owen stares between the two of us, and I can see the truth finally settling into his brain like snow on a dark and quiet night.

"They're Fated, Owen, just like we are. I can feel your anger and confusion, just like Amelia is feeling the pain of the punch." Sophia appears behind us. Her eyebrows are pinched together, and just as the pain subsides from my nose, the crowd around us disperses as she approaches us.

"What the fuck?" Owen mutters. I watch his eyebrows pinch, his mouth turn down, his fists unfurl.

"Joshua," I manage and rush to his side.

His nose is bloodied, but it's drying. It doesn't appear anything but just bruised.

It's now that I remember this is exactly how Josh from the other world got his nose broken...

Is this a hint? Is this more than a coincidence?

"I'm fine, he punches like the idiot he is," he mumbles.

"What is going on? Why am I feeling—"

"Because no matter what that stupid ink says, we are Fated," Sophia cuts Owen off.

I take the sleeve of my cardigan and wipe the excess blood from Joshua's face. "Just give her the number and we'll go home."

"Oh, I don't intend on staying here for very long, don't you worry," Joshua whispers. "Why couldn't he have just taken the truth like everyone else on this fucking planet."

I snort. "You have met him, right?"

"Unfortunately."

I turn on my heel and watch as Sophia is showing Owen her Knot. I wonder—

She grabs his hand and makes him touch her tattoo. I know that look instantly: the look of relief, of comfort and warmth.

They're Fated.

Owen's back is to me, but within seconds, she grabs his Knot and I watch his shoulders slump in the normal way they do when he relaxes after a long day at work, his head lolls a little to the side as he gets comfort.

He's finally seen it; he can feel it. I know he can; I've known him long enough to recognise his body language.

"I think the four of us need to talk it all out, don't we?" Sophia suggests.

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He's closed the coffee shop so we can all sit and discuss it in private. I usually see the shop in the daylight, never in this darkness with everything turned off. He's been kind enough to give us all a cup of tea or coffee before he closed it all up though. I suppose Owen's good for one thing.

No, that's not fair. He might have done all of this, but he has done it with his heart in the sort of right place.

"Do you believe me now, Owen, about the connection? How strong it is?" I ask, breaking the silence.

He sighs and nods, moving his gaze from me to Sophia. Luckily, we all gravitated towards the circular table so I don't have to sit either opposite Owen or beside him.

"Yeah, I do. I get it. But... here's the thing. We can ignore it," Owen says.

I chortle. "Yeah, that's not going to happen. You try doing that, I promise you it's hard to fucking ignore."

"Right, but I can reject her; she's already Rejected," Owen says.

"Unfortunately, I am here," Sophia interjects. "I mean, quite frankly, Owen, you should've approached one of us about this. Do you know what you've done? Have you seen the way we live? I have these clothes smuggled in so I can at least look like a normal human being – the one I'm meant to be. I'm lucky to have electricity some days because the companies prioritise people like you. I barely make ends meet. If I find someone who I love, I have to be sterilised. But here's the kicker; I'm not meant to be living like that, you fucking idiot. Because you decided to go ahead and do all of this without our input, I have to live the life of a... I don't even know. It's not humane, Owen."

We all fall quiet. I sip on my tea and feel the anger seeping through my veins: enough to be worthy of the heavyweight champion of the world. I remember the last guy who held the title lost it because they found out he rejected his Fated One, so became Segregated, and therefore had to give up his title.

Sad, really, what the government can do simply because you don't believe in soulmates.

"I mean, you don't know any different, so what's to say you can't stay where you are? You don't want to be Fated to me; I don't want to be Fated to anyone but Amelia—"

"Have you asked either woman what they want?" Joshua cuts Owen off.

Owen scoffs. "No one asked you."

"Believe it or not, Owen, but the four of us all have our fates intertwined, whether you like any of us or not," I point out. "I don't particularly like you right now, but I'm well aware that my Fate is – unfortunately – bound with yours, sort of."

"Exactly, because we're Fated—"

"No, Owen, no we're not. Stop fucking lying. You are Fated to Sophia, whether you changed your tattoo or not. I can tell you feel it," I say.

He falls silent and looks away. He takes a sip of his coffee before giving in. I can tell he's slipping, because of the way his eyebrows pinch. I used to think I knew that because of a Fated connection.

How wrong was I?

"What do you want, Sophia?" Owen finally asks.

I glance at Joshua with an arched eyebrow. He just sips his coffee without an expression, but I can feel his amusement in an I told you so kind of way.

"I mean, to be quite honest, I don't like what you've done, and I hate how you've screwed us all over, but being Fated to you will get me out being Rejected. I don't even know how to fix it because of the ink. I guess going to the authorities. I guess being Fated to you is what I want," she answers.

"But... Amelia..." Owen stammers, and his eyes glance towards me.

I can feel his hurt, it vibrates in my heart, makes my stomach drop. But I know it's not a tether. It's because he was my first love, my first kiss... Owen has been my only experience of anything, until Joshua. It hurts me to watch him hurt, but I know this is for the best, and what I want. It's what we all need.

Just because two people love each other doesn't mean they should be together. If Owen had approached me before he changed the Knots, I probably would've gone about doing it with him. But now I've met Joshua, I truly believe that this Fated One thing can and does work. Had I been given a chance to meet Joshua first, I don't know what I would've done. If I hadn't met him, I wouldn't believe in this Fated Ones concept; at first, I only believed because I thought Owen and I were Fated to be.

It's weird how belief systems can be made and built up based on one single person's words. I suppose that's how cults begin, right? People believe everything and anything one person says, and they have such conviction that it just works. I wonder if that's how the Fated Ones concept started.

"I want to be with Joshua," I say seriously. I keep my eyes fixed on Owen so he can see the seriousness I'm giving. "I could argue with you on this until I'm blue in the face, but my mind is made up, Owen. I'm not with you anymore, and I never will be. You need to accept it and deal with your Fate to Sophia."

Silence says everything or nothing. The silence between Owen and me as we stare at each other is so telling, so obvious that it doesn't leave anything unsaid in a way. A whole lifetime of memories, happy moments fill my mind like that moment before you die when they say life flashes. A whole year of lies and betrayal flits between us afterwards, marring everything good that ever happened.

"I'm sorry, Owen," I whisper.

When a lion roars, it's like an alarm going off; it's so loud and raw. When Owen roars and smashes the mug against the back wall, it forces me out of the seat.

"Get out!"

"Owen."

"Get out."

"Owen, come on—"

"All of you, out."

We scurry out like rats being shooed, until he slams the door behind us, locking himself in like a recluse.

Like a man broken and caught out by his own lies.

"Fuck's sake," I exclaim.

"He'll be fine," Sophia says. "I can feel him accepting it. He just doesn't want to appear weak."

I snort. "Sounds about right."

"Look, Sophia, I don't want to... impose, but I noticed on your Knot yesterday... the mark. Drifting," Joshua says.

Her eyes widen. "How did you...? The mark? You saw it? You know?"

"Let's just say I used to be in your position," he says.

"Oh."

"It's fixable. I have these details of the leader of people like you, and like I used to be. He can help. He told me to give you his number. I... I don't want to be involved, but I feel like if I had this kind of help before I did, it might have been easier for me. I hope it can be for you," Joshua says and passes her the paper.

She glances at him with a smile on her face. "Thank you."

"Just... stay strong. It'll get easier."

I stand beside Joshua. "What will you do? About Owen."

"Wait for him to accept it and take it from there," she says with a shrug. "As I said, I will do anything to get out of that lifestyle. I guess it depends on what this guy says as well. But thank you for your help."

We say our goodbyes, and she walks off into the night.

"This feels like it's over," I mention.

"Which is how we both know it's not," Joshua says.

I chuckle. "It shouldn't be funny, but it is. I'm waiting for the next dramatic twist."

"Oh, trust me, I'm the same. But, hey, just think, we have each other," he says as we start walking towards his car.

"True, but is that a good thing?" I tease.

"I'm sure you'll find out when I throw you to the wolves," he jokes. "You'll soon come running back."

I kiss his cheek. "Or I'll surprise you and become one of the pack."

"You wouldn't survive five minutes. You'd miss having a shower."

"Correction; I would miss having a shower with you," I retort as my phone buzzes. I glance at the message as we approach the car.

'Hi, Amelia. Are you free this weekend for a visit? We'd love to see you and Owen. Mum.'

I groan. "You know how you were waiting for the dramatic twist? How about a meet the parents?"

His eyes harden, and I can feel the pure fear in my brain. "I'd rather be beaten up by Owen again if I'm honest." He hands me the keys so I can drive.

"Out of luck, I'm afraid."

He groans. "This is much, much worse."

I snort and say nothing back, because we both know they'll hate it just as much as Joshua will.

"Oh, on a side note. I'll buy you a replacement bouquet of lilies tomorrow," he adds with a chuckle.

"I'll hold you to that."

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