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No.
Fuck.
I crumpled up the now-empty wrapper and shoved it back in my pocket.
I was a bit concerned about facing that French idiot again, Chef Ben, who had somehow inserted himself into my head and just wouldn’t piss off out of there. He’d been really kind to me, looked after me when I’d needed it most, and in return, I’d run off on him. I’d tried to forget about him. Kind of. Did I feel bad about not having contacted him to say thank you for probably saving my sorry arse from whatever stupidity I’d had going on that evening? Yes. I felt bad about everything that had happened that evening and the days that had passed afterwards. I shuddered, forcing myself to remember. It was still painful. Frightening.
Most of all, I was frightened that I’d sunk so low and permitted Lewis to treat me like that over and over again.
Therapy was a great thing, but it had also made me hate myself for a while and realise how weak I was. Even though my team of counsellors had made me see things differently, I was still deeply ashamed. Of myself. Of Lewis. Of how messed up my life had become.
I was stronger now, though, and I intended to stay that way. I was going to sort things out. Stand up for myself better. Make proper friends. Start a brand-new life. I’d bought some new clothes—simple, comfortable things like tracksuits, T-shirts and cotton underwear—things that fitted my body, which was still skinny and pale, but my head was clear and my palpitations had slowly evened out at the same rate as my bruises had faded and my strength to actually function had returned.
I’d walked around that hospital ward to try to get some muscle tone on my bones. Walked around the building. Walked into town and back, until Mum had heard that Lewis was back home living with his parents.
A relapse followed, when I’d refused to speak to anyone and hadn’t eaten for a week and had once again been emotionally blackmailed onto a drip. That part had been Willa’s doing, shouting in my face and throwing her miserable wedding photos at me. It had hurt, but I understood now, knew how I reacted when fear overwhelmed me and why I bloody burned the world down when it did. I appreciated how I made other people feel too. The absolute fear in my sister’s face was something I didn’t want to ever see again.
So I’d talked to Finn because he hadn’t backed down. Told me to rein it in and listen to him because I was bloody good at being me and everything else was just gossip. That people kept asking when I was coming back.
Yeah, that hadn’t helped, and I’d told him I didn’t want to come back. Starting over meant just that. Leave your past behind. New everything.
He’d laughed and said that sometimes starting over meant different things. And sometimes the people we’d hurt were the people we needed to start over with the most.
There would be no starting over with Lewis, though. The thought of even being in the same room as him made me break out in tiny panic attacks. The nightmares were still there, and I had one last pack of emergency sleeping tablets in my bag for those times when I woke up and couldn’t make my body go back to sleep. Because I needed to sleep. Sleep was good. It made the world go away.
I desperately wanted certain things to go away. My memories. All my failures. The scars on my body. The doctor had shown me my X-rays when I’d broken my arm, but there had been other fractures. Apparently, my collarbone had been fractured at some point, and there was a badly healed one in my other wrist. I’d never realised. Just sucked it up. Got through it.
These were all thoughts I had to start working to ignore. There was a whole wide world waiting for me, and my inner demons were heckling me to fail.
I wouldn’t fail. I would go back to work. I would find a way to do this.
Structure. Routine. I sighed to myself and scrolled through my phone. I’d booked a hostel for my first week, ready to find my feet and get the hang of once again living in the real world. I’d promised I’d call Finn to touch base as soon as I got off the train. I also needed to go see Ben and say thank you…at some point. I wanted to. It was the right thing to do. Part of relearning how to treat people right.
I didn’t know what I dreaded the most. Work or having all these people back in my business.
Not that the dread lasted long because as I stepped off the train at Waterloo, there was Mabel and the familiar feeling of…I couldn’t describe it.
“Hello, sunshine,” they whispered into my neck since I’d apparently flung my arms around them. I hadn’t realised how nervous I’d been, and somehow having Mabel here?
“What?” I grinned into their face. Mabel looked more themselves than the last time I’d seen them. Gorgeously flawless, cheekbones to die for, their blonde hair neatly tucked into a bun at their nape, immaculate suit and heels.
“Well, blame Finn. You do know he’s tracking you on Find my Friends, don’t you? He was a little nervous spying on you, but he’s right. We’re never going to let you disappear on us again, babe. If you thought you were trapped with that ex of yours, just wait until you realise how clingy us lot can be. I mean!”
They held up their phone and then put out their hand to demand mine. I didn’t protest. I didn’t have the strength to. They stabbed a few digits in mine, a few in theirs. My phone vibrated, tickling my palm, as their fingers danced over the screens.
“There. I’ve got you on mine now too. It’s up to you, but sometimes it’s good to have people know where you’re at.”
I didn’t know how to feel about that little trigger going off in my stomach. I needed to sometimes disappear, and there was no way I could guarantee that I wouldn’t find my way back exactly where I’d been before Christmas.
“You missed the holiday season,” they said and took my arm. “I was most annoyed. I love Christmas, even though I had to work this one. We’re always understaffed. Total shitshow, December was. We just took on ten new waiters, all local students. They’re varying degrees of capable, but weneed more. One of them has already handed in their notice—they hadn’t realised they’d actually have to work weekends. And nights. And start at five a.m. So yeah, normal stuff. And—oh!”
“Oh, what?” I asked as my phone went off.
“Do you need to take that?” they asked.
“Nah.” I silenced it and put it back in my pocket. “Just my alarm to remind me to eat.”
“Fabulous!” They grabbed my arm again. “I’m taking you for a chai latte and something scrummy. There’s this fabulous little place around the corner. Or would you rather choose? Are there still things… I’m no expert on that side of your issues, but I’ll go with what you say. I’m totally easy, me.”
