Page 2

Chapter One

Present Day

T he lively bowing of a violin provided a playful hint to Sia’s Cheap Thrills in the quiet waiting room. I bopped my head in time with the calming instrumentals, allowing the soft hues of lavender to accompany the music, bringing my heart rate back to normal.

I’d raced up the three flights of stairs, the pressure of running late fuelling me to get there quicker, even though, by the time I spoke to the receptionist and sat down, there were still twenty-six minutes before my appointment. When sessions with your therapist cost you a small fortune, you bet your arse I was going to be there early with a bag full of time anxiety.

There was an array of magazines and self-help books in the centre of the room waiting patiently to be read, beige lounges surrounding the table ready to host. The walls were bare other than the occasional motivational quote — every new day offering a new opportunity or beginning ; the first step is the hardest and a list of ideas for improving your mental health.

The waiting room was a comforting space, each element scrupulously selected to afford an assuring ambience. The perfect balance between caring and professionalism interwoven through the potted plants carefully placed in each corner.

I surreptitiously watched people as they entered and exited, pondering why they were here and how they were feeling. Some looked as though they were carrying a lot, their journey to healing in the early stages, and I remembered that pain and struggle well. Others appeared lighter, leaving with an hour less stress on their shoulders – now shared with someone else.

It was this internal game which kept my own negative thoughts at bay until my name was called by the young receptionist sitting at the front desk. Her smile was kind as she ushered me through the clinic, the click clack of her heels on the wooden floors echoing down the hall. She held off on menial small talk and I was glad because it was the worst of all the talks and I was already about to spend an hour doing just that. I nodded gratefully as she gestured to the room I was to enter and opened the door.

Suzie was sitting in her regular seat, a potted Areca Palm on either side complementing the natural decor of the waiting room.

“, how are you today?” She asked, standing and pointing to the double lounge opposite where I always sat.

“Can’t complain. How are you?” I’d been seeing Suzie weekly for the past six months and at this point, she was one of the three people I actually conversed with regularly.

“I’m doing well. Is it still cold outside?” The heater was on in her office and she was also wearing a light scarf – the woman felt the cold more than most.

“Not too bad honestly, but tomorrow is supposed to be freezing.”

“Bring on Summer,” she smiled warmly. “So, tell me, in one word how has your week been?”

We started each session the same way and I found the consistency comforting. It meant I had to come at least a little prepared and in the beginning, it was a task I could complete. Something I could easily achieve from my To Do list when even the most basic of things seemed to take all of my energy. And while the first few weeks were all shrouded in negative descriptors, six months later it was nearly always positive.

“Unremarkable.”

“Ooooh, good word,” she smiled, adding it to the long list she had compiled. “Tell me what you mean by that.” This was the hard part. Everything required explanation. Detail. Elaboration.

“Unexceptional,” I tried with a small laugh.

“No synonyms, ,” she admonished kindly.

“Fineeeee. You know me too well by now,” I laughed softly. “It was ordinary, but in a nice way. I didn’t actually do a lot. I've been contemplating calling the Neighbourhood Centre. Asking for my old job back.”

“That’s a brilliant idea. You enjoyed it there didn’t you?” She prodded.

“I loved working there,” I said and like a toy which once wound wouldn’t stop, I recounted details of my week and memories from when I used to work, the thoughts tumbling out as I processed my own mindset aloud. “I only left the Centre because Lucas wanted me home all the time. But that place was somewhere I felt I belonged and I was devastated to leave so I’m hoping they will have me back.”

“They would be lucky to have you and from what you’ve said, they will be really happy to hear from you.”

I agreed with a nod before explaining the things I missed and what I was most looking forward to if I was able to return. Once I paused for a sip of water she took the opportunity to pivot the conversation, asking about my panic attacks.

They’d started long before I ever garnered the courage to leave my abusive ex but they’d recently become manageable and something I was generally able to identify and squash with many techniques I’d learnt on this very lounge.

“None for the past month,” the pride was evident in my voice although I scratched at the fabric of the cushion as thinking about the debilitating episodes still made me uneasy.

“That’s fantastic.”

“I’m nailing this therapeutic recovery, aren’t I?” I joked and Suzie glanced at me before pushing her greying fringe back and placing her glasses on her head.

“, remember our goal for last week?” She asked and I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t roll my eyes.

“Sadly, yes. No quantifying or making tasks a competition. God, you have the memory of an elephant.”

“Correct,” she confirmed but I could tell she was suppressing a laugh of her own. She would allow me to use humour once or twice and then pause, staring at me through her clear framed glasses before gut-punching me with accusations of using sarcasm as an avoidance tactic.

“But I’m a terrible loser,” I whined jokingly.

She smiled as she glanced at the clock, her cue for me to finish up, ask anything pertinent or simply sit in the space silently, however, today, she leant forward placing her glasses on her notepad.

“When you leave here today, I would like you to speak to CJ at the front desk and have her schedule your next appointment for one month’s time.”

I froze. My hands glued to the side of the lounge waiting to push me to stand, only her words gave me pause.

“A month? But I come every Tuesday,” just like I had since I started seeing her.

“You don’t need to see me every week anymore. You’re most welcome to, but you’re doing so well. I really believe you will be able to stretch your time here to monthly. Obviously, I’m always available for emergency appointments or you can keep them weekly – that is up to you. But I do think you’re ready for the next phase of recovery.”

My eyes darted around the room from the plants to the white candles sitting on the desk next to her computer. The framed certifications showcasing Suzie was a qualified psychologist. A reassuringly safe space where I’d spent many hours with emotions ebbing and flowing like waves. Sometimes accompanied with an hour of tears, sometimes quietude and others laughter – but always supported.

The thought of not having weekly appointments was perplexing. While I was proud and thankful I also felt sad and a little confused. What did this mean?

Did I need a session just to unpack the idea of reducing time spent here and why she thought I was ready? Or was I deferring the inevitable because spending an hour a week here was part of my routine now.

She gave me time to ponder my thoughts before she stood and I took a deep breath, mirroring the movement

“You have graduated psychology,” she announced proudly.

“So, in other words, I won?” I asked with raised brows and she laughed, her eyes crinkling with warmth.

“You should be proud of yourself. You’ve really come so very far.” She opened the door and I fought the urge to hug her. Tell her how much I appreciated this space and ask her if we could be friends who met for coffee while we chatted about things other than why I was a hot mess. Realistically, I knew I was one of hundreds, but Suzie always made me feel as though she genuinely cared and it was part of the reason I’d come so far.

Instead, I thanked her and did as she requested, scheduling my next appointment four weeks later. And it was with a slight spring in my step that I headed home.

“Whatcha doing?”

I dropped my phone in fright not expecting anyone to be home let alone Arna’s voice to be close enough that I could smell the Fanta she was drinking. The perfectly arched brows of my best-friend framed her narrowed eyes, which told me she’d seen exactly what I was doing.

“Oh my god. Don’t judge me.” I wanted to lie but I was busted and needed to fess up despite the horror of the confession.

“Since when have I ever judged you?” She asked with faux dismay.

“Since I wore those peddle pushers a couple of years ago and you said I looked like I was ready for the Tour De Terrible Fashion .“ Arna burst out laughing, her signature cackle bouncing around my room – her spare room.

“Fine,” she giggled as she sat heavily on the bed next to me. “Maybe I’m a little judgemental. But tell me anyway.”

“Okay, but I need to give you some context too before you go crazy.” Mumbling, I confessed, “I was doing my best to find Suzie on social media.”

“As in your therapist, Suzie?”

“Mmmmhmmm,” I replied, biting my thumb nail. “In our session today she told me I’ve graduated therapy and has pushed us out to monthly appointments.”

“That’s great. I told you I’d noticed how much brighter you’ve been lately,” she said with a tap to my thigh.

“This is not great!” I snapped. “I feel as though she’s breaking up with me so now I need to find her on social media because I need to know everything about her, her children and any person she has ever met. It might make me feel better.”

Arna laughed, “The only thing that is making you, is completely psycho.”

“Oh, sue me, okay. She made me feel as though I was her friend,” I said with a whine.

At this point, I was judging myself but I was nothing if not persistent and would go down fighting.

“! This is unhealthy and detrimental to your growth.”

“Oh, pssh. I literally just signed us up for a pilates class. What screams growth more than getting this booty onto those weird cable things. Now my mind is stronger, I need to work on the rest.” I joked.

Fitness used to be my life. The gym was a place of comfort and stability both physically and mentally. But I lost most of that when I was with Lucas. He took my passion away with the disgusting insults he threw at me. But with Suzie, I’d also discovered my self-esteem had skyrocketed and my confidence was stronger than ever.

“It’s called a reformer, love. Flick loves pilates too. But I don’t think I’m available that day.”

“I haven’t even told you when yet,” I glared at her until she rolled her eyes reaching for my phone.

“Okay, fine, I’ll go. Now show me Suzie babes, I want to stalk her too.” Zooming in on the photo I only just found she said, “I can’t believe we haven’t done this before, I love a social media deep-dive.”

“Right? Surely everyone does this,” I self-validated, looking at a photo of her with her grandchildren. Urgh. She looked so normal and happy – just like she did in our sessions. I bet she didn’t need a therapist.

“Be honest, how much of your time with her do you spend avoiding your feelings with sarcasm?”

My mouth fell open in horror as my hand flung across my chest, “Your audacity is extreme right now. I would never.” She glared at me with a raised brow, not even pretending to humour me.

“Just because we’ve been friends for nearly two decades doesn’t mean you know me.” I snapped sarcastically, before looking at my nails guiltily.

She still didn’t say anything, instead slurping her can aggressively with the loudest look of judgement I’d ever seen.

“Fucking hell. Fine. A lot. As I left last time I actually said to her, ‘oh my goodness, Suzie, we never talk about you. Maybe next time.’ She didn’t find it funny.”

Arna chortled, holding her stomach and I couldn’t help but laugh too. Humour had always been an easy and quick defence mechanism, clearly still something I lunged for.

“You are the best, honestly,” she said affectionately.

“Apparently not. Suzie is divorcing me.” I threw my hand over my face and fell back onto my bed with a sigh.

“Think of all the money you’ll save,” Arns quipped and she had a point. My bank account was dwindling fast and while I would be able to access the funds I’d stashed from my parents estate in a few short months, right now I was penny pinching. I wouldn’t have ever been able to get to this point – the point where even my therapist was confident in my journey of healing – without having this place to stay and while I was eternally grateful to Arns and Andy, it was coming to an end.

“Valid point. I also found a few rentals opening next month,” I continued scrolling, not wanting to see her face in case she tried to convince me to stay.

“Wait a minute!” She said and I groaned knowingly. “You literally know how it feels when someone tries to divorce you and that is exactly what you are doing to meeeeee,“ she complained and I whacked her with the pillow next to me.

“I’m tired of hearing you and your fiancé banging. It’s time. I’m ready and when he eventually starts to piss you off, you will need somewhere to stay.” I flattened my hand under my chin and batted my lashes at her.

“Don’t you ever do that face again,” she laughed, throwing the pillow back at me. “Fine, but you know you can stay forever, yeah?”

“I know and you guys literally saved me. Something I can never repay you for, but you need your space and I need to stop hearing you both. It’s not good for my eardrums or my lonely vagina.”

Arna laughed, playfully shoving me. “I guess we need to enjoy our time together then. Want to watch a movie tonight? Andy and the boys are stealing the living room for poker.”

“Which boys?”

“The usual I think. Dylan, Jack, Jay and maybe Cooper. Not sure about Seb though he might be busy.”

“Aw yay, I miss Jack! Wait, which one is Seb?” I asked. Living with Arna and Andy for the past six months meant I’d seen his friends before on numerous occasions, although my level of sociability was nowhere near where it should have been. Greetings usually consisted of a wave before I hightailed it back to my room. It was probably why I was able to be in the same room as those who played for the Hearts – the team I’d barracked for since I was a child – without hyperventilating. But other than Jack and Jay, I wasn’t entirely sure who was who, although I would need to be comatose to deny they were a good looking bunch of men.

“Tall, dark hair, looks a little scary and doesn’t say a lot,” she prompted and I wracked my memories, drawing a blank.

“Doesn’t ring any bells.”

“He owns Nexus. That club in Sydney they go to sometimes.”

“Oh, yep. I’m with you. I haven’t met him, I don’t think.”

“Anyway, they’ll be loud and annoying so we need to either go somewhere or camp out in here.” I glanced down at my warm pants, my favourite blue jacket I was comfortably snuggled in. I’d thrown them on the second I got back in today and did not see myself taking them off until tomorrow morning.

“Takeaway and a movie?” I asked, deciding venturing into city nightlife was not on the cards today.

“Perfect. Now show me more photos of our dear saviour Suzie and every person in her family.”

“Can you come help me carry everything?” Arna called from the kitchen and I begrudgingly threw back the quilt and trudged out to the kitchen. Of course it was just as I got comfortable that I would have to move again and venture into the lion’s den. Not only were Andy and what sounded like a small army out there but I looked like a swamp rat and thanks to Arns forcing us to watch The Notebook , my eyes were nearly swollen closed from the amount of tears I’d shed. This was why I avoided movies which made me cry. What kind of animal knowingly chose to watch something sad. I did enough crying in real life without needing to face those horrific things in my means of escape. Which was also why we were watching Bridesmaids next – my choice.

“Marls,” Jack bellowed and I glanced towards the table where his large grin instantly made me reciprocate.

“Hey Jack,” I greeted, meeting him halfway and returning his hug. When we first met, it was a surprise I didn’t require CPR given he was one of the stars of the Hearts and I was certain I bled red and black in solidarity with that team. But, the novelty soon wore off and now he was just Andy’s kind teammate and a good friend to us both. “I’ve missed you,” I added honestly.

“You good?” He asked, his words soft as if he was worried I might burst into tears – which wouldn’t be the first time in his company. Like Suzie said, I’d definitely come a long way, but tonight I really was okay and I laughed.

“This weirdo,” I pointed my thumb towards Arna, “made me watch the saddest film in the history of cinema.”

“Titanic?” Jay called from the table clearly eavesdropping.

“The Notebook,” I answered and he shook his head at my clearly ecstatic best-friend.

“That’s rough, Arns. Definitely top three in the list of all time saddest movies.” Jay loved a good chick-flick and sometimes escaped poker night to sneak in and watch some of whatever film we had on before he was dragged back to join the boys.

“It was brutal,” I agreed, following Jack as he led me towards the table where Arna was now standing next to Andy. The table was full tonight and while I recognised those Arna said were coming, there was one extra who I definitely hadn’t met before. I waved to Dylan and Cooper who were facing me, although deep in conversation, flicking me with a wave and smile before returning their attention to each other. Dusting the popcorn kernels from my jacket as I greeted everyone, I thought about how I never would have dared let Lucas see me this way, yet I was willingly standing in a room full of attractive men and I couldn’t have cared less. This in itself was a sign of my personal growth. I would need to remind Arna of this later when she tried to fight me on my stalkerish behaviours.

“Marls,” Andy’s voice brought me back to the present and to the man with his back to me. “I don’t think you’ve met Sebastian. Seb, this is , Marls this is Seb.”

He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder, our gazes locking and I smiled, not daring to speak in case I choked on my own tongue. Well, he definitely fit the criteria for those attending poker night.

HOT. HOT. HOT.

We only held eye contact for a couple of seconds but it was long enough to note that behind the steely expression on his face was something burning. Quickly excusing myself, I sprinted back to the kitchen. Regardless of the self-confidence I was just boasting about, that man was gorgeous and I was far too awkward to try to converse with someone who looked like that.

Considering Arna spent most of her life hyperbolising everything, ‘looks a little scary’ was the understatement of the year.

Dark hair, formidable face and tattoos with a panty dropping gaze was a much more appropriate description. Sheesh.

My libido was stretching like a bear after the winter and in the course of two seconds, Sebastian was cementing himself in my mind as Andy’s ‘terrifyingly sexy’ friend.

“How long have you known Sebastian for?” I pounced the second she returned to my room, snacks in both hands.

“Huh?” She looked genuinely confused, handing me the bowl of popcorn as I clarified.

“When was the first time you met Sebastian?” I gestured with my head towards the living room as if she might not know who I meant.

“Oh. Ummm, I don’t know. Maybe a bit over a year. Why?”

“Interesting. Firstly, is there any reason it has taken this long to introduce me to him and secondly, could you have given me a little heads up before I walked out looking like this?” Probably run a brush through your hair, Marls, Seb is deathly good looking . I was rapidly pointing up, down and around. The level of mess was top to toe, emphasised by the sporadic circling of my hand.

“I haven’t even showered,” I grimaced and she grinned, mischief written all over her features. “Tell me everything there is to know about him, right now.”

“We both know you’re gorgeous, even with popcorn in your hair,” she said, reaching over and removing a small kernel from my head. Of course. “Now go get the liquorice while I put your movie on. Then I’ll answer all of your questions.”

“Fine.” I huffed, hoping I could duck in and out and with his back to the kitchen, he would be none the wiser – leaving my remaining dignity intact.

Deep voices grew louder the closer I crept and just before the corner, I reefed the fleecy hood up over my head, took a deep breath and darted out. My hand was already outstretched in preparation to grab the bowl and race back to my room, when I felt my fist connect with something hard and a low, gasp-like sound followed.

Oh, piss right off.

Glancing up, the look of alarm on the terrifyingly sexy face was enough to send a giggle up my throat and I bit my lip to prevent it escaping.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” I squeaked, making the situation one thousand times worse when I reached out to tenderly put a hand over the place I’d just punched.

His chin dropped to his chest looking down at where I was subconsciously stroking his stomach like a mother soothing her baby. Realising the horror of my actions, I yanked my hand back as if brushing against live wire and slapped it over my mouth.

“Shit. Sorry two times. I’m just…” I trailed off, reaching around a still frozen Sebastian and grabbing the bowl of liquorice from the bench, before holding it up as means of explanation.

He didn’t take his penetrating stare off me, watching everything I did with a level of scrutiny reserved for an examination. I felt my cheeks flush, the absurdity of the situation only now catching up with me and when I saw the corner of his mouth twitch I had to bite my lip again to stop the clumsy laugh desperate to escape.

“Okay, well, nice chat,” I farewelled awkwardly before racing back to the sanctity of my room with what I suspected was a bright red face and a hilarious story for my soon to be dead best-friend.