By the time we got to Marbella, I’m not going to lie, I had a bit of hate for him. I was finding it pretty difficult to just pretend nothing had happened. Pete and I had a couple of rows about it, and the rest of the cast started to notice that something was up, but boys being boys, they decided to blame me for it instead of him.

Pete’s mate Lockie said on camera, ‘Megan never lets Pete come out any more.’ What they didn’t realise was that I was still hurting, trying to learn to trust him again. No one knew what was behind my change of mood; instead, they just made stupid jokes about me trying to control him.

One day, we were at a pool party, and a girl came over to Pete to talk to him. By now, I was so paranoid that I kept looking across while he had his picture taken with her. Then she carried on trying to get his attention, and I went a bit mad. Everyone was saying, ‘Megan needs to take a chill pill, it’s just a fan.’ Meanwhile, I’d burst into tears. We had to go and film our loved-up opening credits and from the outside, we looked like the perfect power couple. In reality, we weren’t even talking. But I still didn’t tell the producers there was a problem.

The first episode of the new series actually made me laugh out loud – there’s Pete giving his mate Lockie all this mature, wise advice about relationships. There’s Pete telling him, ‘Sometimes, even if you love something, you have to walk away if it ain’t right.’ He said, ‘The worst thing you can do is try and do something you ain’t ready to do.’ Ha ha. How ironic is that?

We did our best to patch things up. The next day was the day before my birthday, and Pete appeared with flowers, a card, a present, everything a girl could want. He sat down with me and read the card out, which must have been a bit weird for everyone who didn’t know we had any problems. I’d stuck to my promise of not mentioning anything, so they must have been wondering what was going on when Pete started reading what he’d written.

He said, ‘Megan, this may be your first birthday with me, but it won’t be your last. I have my faults, and you’ve stood by me, and I thank you for that. I’ve so much admiration for you and everything you’ve achieved, and I’m lucky to have you in my life. I’m behind you no matter what. You’re my best friend and the best girlfriend a geezer could ask for, and I love you.’

He’d got me a very nice present as well – viewers watched him hand over this Rolex, which he spent a fortune on, and yeah, I was over the moon. But people give me shit on social media about ‘still wearing Pete’s watch’, so now let me set the record straight. Yes I do wear a beautiful watch, but it’s not the one that Pete bought me, it’s a new one. Also, what people need to know is that I spoiled him too. We were both very generous – isn’t that what you do in relationships? – and me and him both realise that a present is a present, and neither of us has ever asked for anything back. So yeah, I do wear a beautiful watch. I’ve worked my arse off to buy myself nice things, and also treat the people I love, and I certainly don’t need anyone else to buy them for me.

I was still very happy that day, and I shared a picture on Instagram, where I thanked him for my lovely present. I wrote on Twitter, ‘Omgggggggggg legit the most spoilt girl ever,’ while he wrote, ‘Happy birthday to my best friend, girlfriend and the bird that makes me a better geezer.’

This little display of public affection is probably what stirred up a certain lady back in the UK, and that’s when the papers possibly got another telephone call. Stand by for some fireworks in Marbella…

There I was, with Danielle. I’d confided in her that I was worried because Pete was always off with me, and she was really sympathetic. Then I noticed Pete himself was walking around the side of the pool where Danni and I were sitting. I thought that was pretty weird – other people don’t normally appear like that when you’re filming.

Next thing I knew, Danni had to leave. At this moment in time, my IBS was playing up, and I felt like I was going to get the shits. I was getting a weird vibe, so I made someone tell me what was going on. Then Danni came back, and she looked as though she’d seen a ghost. She said to me, ‘I feel awkward, but I’ve seen something about Pete texting a girl.’ I thought she must mean ‘the girl in the picture’ all over again, but Danni said it was somebody with brown hair. She didn’t know a lot about it, but what she did say was tough enough to hear – stuff like the girl saying, ‘I wish you were single,’ and Pete replying, ‘Tell me about it,’ and ‘I can’t wait to get home.’ What a wanker!

I had that same sinking feeling in my belly all over again, but I tried to keep calm, and I said, ‘I’ve found some messages, but I’m not sure. I need to find out what I’m talking about.’

So I made the producers tell me what was going on – I went off camera, and someone finally gave me a phone to read all the stuff online. It was an exclusive in the Sun, and they didn’t hold back. The article was an interview with a girl called Jacqui, an ex of Pete’s, and she told them he’d been messaging her the whole time we were in Barcelona.

Turned out the papers had got it both right and wrong. We WERE both on our phones, but one of us definitely hadn’t run out of conversation, judging by them texts.

He’d been telling her how boring I was, that I hardly drank, that he couldn’t wait to get home, that he missed being single. Some of their messages were X-rated, and the Sun said some of them were too rude to print. Trust me, it was brutal. Who wants to read about their boyfriend talking about anal sex?!

What made me really mad, though, was the angle this girl took in the interview. She went on and on about ‘what a dog’ Pete was, how sorry she felt for me, and that if she was me, she’d be really hurt. But she was the one going along with him, and she was the one giving them the story! It was beyond humiliating.

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I finished the article and went back on camera, and then Pete turned up. Danni gave him a dirty look, and then she was gone and it was just me and him. Everything you can see in that scene was 100 per cent real – I had found out literally only minutes before, and I was beside myself. I thought I had no words but, as you saw, I somehow found them. I walked away and went so crazy.

Another thing that got me raging was remembering my promise not to bring anything up about the previous messages. The cameras were rolling and I went at him, ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, was I? Now I’m mortified.’

Pete said, ‘I haven’t been near a bird. I fucked up.’ He kept saying they were the same messages, like he was trying to make out it was an old crime, and there was nothing new to worry about. What he didn’t realise was that it wasn’t even the content of the messages themselves, though that was bad enough. My problem was, he’d known they were out there and that they could come back to shoot us both in the arse, but instead he’d just put his trust in these girls not to say anything.

I spotted the Rolex on my wrist, and that only set me off again. ‘That’s guilt, that is,’ I shouted, waving it around. I’d found it weird in the first place that he’d wanted to get me that amazing present. Now I knew why.

Eventually, I screamed, ‘You’re telling a girl you want to be single. Fucking go and be single.’

I walked off and went so crazy that security had to pull me away. We were kept in separate rooms for the rest of the day, although at some point I managed to escape and started kicking down his hotel room door. It was all getting a bit too much, so they arranged to send Pete home on his own.

The next thing I knew, his management decided to release a statement without my permission, saying, basically, that I knew all about the messages and that me and Pete were getting through it. Hang on a minute! Yes, I knew about some of them, but not all of them, and not that he’d been lying next to me, telling some other girl he wanted to do rude things to her. I was raging with him, and equally pissed off at her. She used this whole situation to get herself some headlines, and even called herself a ‘girl’s girl’, so I asked her on social media why she didn’t message me herself. No reply. Well, what could she say?

I went out that night, got absolutely smashed, paralytic, went home and did a tell-all video on Snapchat. I was pissed and crying, with my mascara running down my cheeks. I looked a state, but I could still speak.

In the video I said, ‘I did know about some messages that were going about and obviously that’s hurt a lot.

‘That a boy I thought loved me and I loved could be with me and doing that at the same time.

‘But then, like, today, for some girl to sell a story about it, and for me to see the messages that I hadn’t seen before – that fucking hurts.

‘She’s obviously seen that me and him were trying to move on, and obviously he’s bought me nice things, and I put it on Instagram and Twitter, and it’s rubbed her up the wrong way.

‘But just to clear those rumours up – I didn’t know all those messages were going about, but it’s fucking hurtful and heartbreaking. I just wish none of this had happened really.’

Then I signed off: ‘Life’s a c**t. Everything happens for a reason.’

Beautiful words.

In the end I just bunged it on Snapchat, because I didn’t want anyone twisting my words. The next day, what I’d said got reported in every paper. I think I made my point.