"Fuck off, you're kidding?!" Zara gasped down the phone, sharp in Wednesday's ear.

Wednesday hadn't had a chance to relax the second she'd stepped foot into her own house again, due to sudden buzzing of her phone. Zara, who'd not come back to London for the festive season as she didn't celebrate Christmas, had phoned her as she'd barely wheeled her case into the hallway. And Wednesday had naively forgotten that she'd not had a chance to fully explain the whole Harry/Daisy saga that had plagued her life for the past couple of weeks to her. With a sigh, she'd explained the whole ordeal as Zara listened intently on the other side, only interjecting with the odd gasp or cuss word throughout, until she finally made it to the end of the story.

"Nope," Wednesday replied.

She was so sick of thinking about it now. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed and watch New Girl with a jar of Nutella to keep her company.

"I knew that girl gave me bad vibes," Zara added, clicking her tongue dramatically.

"I know," Wednesday mumbled. "Should have known not to trust her the second she said she was a Scorpio."

"Yeah, Scorpio's are bad vibes man," Zara agreed down the phone. "Scorpio's and Virgo's."

"Well that explains it then. Patrick is a Virgo."

"Yeah exactly, see! Wanker," she affirmed in her east London accent, making Wednesday grin.

She'd also filled Zara in on her less than enjoyable phone call with Patrick, relaying his exact words back to her, much to Zara's utter disgust.

"What a nerve that little boy has talking about standards, when you're the best he's ever gonna get in his scummy little life. I swear, next time I'm back in London, I'm egging his flat."

"No, you're not, he isn't worth it," Wednesday laughed.

Usually, she'd have been all for an egging, but even she knew he wasn't worth the £1 they needed to spend on the eggs. Maybe she was maturing after all.

"So, what you gonna do then? About Harry?" Zara asked once they'd been on the phone for 20 minutes, their conversation rounding to a close.

Wednesday sighed, rubbing her tired eyes.

"Not a fucking clue, but whatever I decide to do, it won't be today."

"Nah, I don't blame you fam. Go get a bath, a glass of wine and get the vibrator out."

Wednesday smiled deeply, letting out a genuine laugh for the first time that week. God, she was so grateful Zara was her friend. Sometimes, a chat with Zara was exactly the medicine she needed.

"I can't promise I won't fall asleep before I get to that point," Wednesday responded with a smile. "But anyway, I'm gonna go and unpack my case now."

"Okay girl, I'll let you get away. I've got a hot date to start getting ready for anyway."

"Is he rich?" Wednesday asked with a smirk and a cocked brow.

"Filthy," Zara replied, and she could hear the smile through the phone.

"Make him wife you up ASAP then."

"One look at this ass and he'll be down on his knee before he knows it."

Wednesday shook her head and laughed. "I'll leave you to it then. Text me an update!"

"Will do. Talk to you soon," Zara replied, before the line went dead and Wednesday lowered the phone, a ghost of a smile on her face at the funny discussion.

Groaning to herself as she remained laid down on the sofa, she thought about everything practical she needed to do. Unpack, wash clothes, clean the flat, get a shower. Ring Harry.

That last thought popped into her head and instantly made her stomach clench slightly, her nerves taking a hold once more. Truthfully, she knew she didn't have the energy for that today, if she were to swallow her pride. It would have to be future Wednesday's problem.

Pushing herself off of the sofa, she dragged the case from its position on the hallway floor towards the stairs, looking behind her the whole time as she swore under her breath at the sheer weight of it.

"Why did you bring so many clothes, idiot," she mumbled to herself, letting out a sigh of relief when she made it to the top.

An hour passed as she unpacked the case, making piles of washing to do and prolonging the ordeal by taking 10-minute breaks every 5 minutes. Being a serial procrastinator was not the one.

Eventually bounding down the stairs with the piles of washing, her feet met something big as she reached the hardwood hallway floor, causing her to be flung forward, clothes flying into the air as she decked it to the ground.

"What the fuck?" she grumbled, looking back down to see what made her trip as she rubbed her throbbing ankle.

Her brows pulled together as she noticed a large, wrapped present sat just next to the stairs. It was wrapped in a simple brown paper, with a large gold bow attached to the front. Had that been there since she got back? Swallowing, she realised her cases must have blocked it from her view this whole time. Hesitantly sliding her knees over to where it sat, she eyed it suspiciously. What if Patrick had left it here? And it would burst with dog poo all over her as she opened it as payback for her actions? She rolled her eyes at her own anxious thoughts. Of course it wouldn't be from him, that was a ridiculous thought. Plus, he'd gave her back her house key when they broke up.

Then a light clicked on in her head as she thought of the only other person who had a key to hers. Licking her lips, she timidly reached out and pulled the wrapped present towards her, tilting her head to read the tag attached as she held it in her hands.

Wednesday, I hope you like this present. You deserve so much happiness. All the love, always. H. X

She released a breath she didn't know he'd been holding as she let the tag down from her hands. Staring at it with uncertainty, she wondered over when he'd left the present here. Her mum had mentioned he'd come back a day earlier than her. Had he brought it then? Surely not. He'd not contacted her since their argument and was clearly still angry at her.

He had to have left it when she'd gone home then, still seething with anger and ignoring his countless pleas for forgiveness. Maybe he'd assumed that their situation would have been sorted by the time she returned back to her house and not carried on for the length of time it had, a nice surprise waiting for her.

Pulling the present closer to her, she tenderly felt over the paper for a sign of what was inside. It was big enough, about 2 foot tall, whatever it was and...soft? Her brows pulled together as she felt something cushiony beneath the paper. With her tongue between her lips, she reached to the back and, upon finding the sellotaped edge, started to gently rip the paper apart. A flash of black fur caught her eye and a second later she sat back to stare at the present as it was fully unwrapped in all of its glory.

A teddy. A panda teddy, to be exact. Her favourite animal.

She stared at it like it was a code she was trying to crack, utterly confused. Taking in every inch of the bear, she noticed a tag hanging on its tummy that said, 'smell me'. Taking the bear in both of her hands, she lifted it up to her face and inhaled, the scent of sweet strawberries filling her nostrils. Also her favourite scent.

Letting the teddy fall back down to her lap, she stared down at it in her hands, wondering why he'd chosen this gift for her. Not that there was anything wrong with it—she was a big child and still had a selection of childhood teddies sat on her bed. But Harry was a meticulous person and chose presents for specific reasons. Last year, after a casual conversation they'd had about albums she wanted on vinyl but couldn't find because they weren't distributed anymore, he'd presented her with every single one she'd mentioned, wrapped up in a small bow. A teddy seemed like an odd choice for Harry.

But then her eyes saw the little padded text on the panda's foot. In a love heart were the words, 'press me' and as her finger felt over the area, she felt a button under the soft material. Feeling her heart begin to beat a bit faster at whatever noise was about to be played out, she tenderly pressed down.

"I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone for coming to Wednesday's party today and not ruining the surprise. I know she was so busy on the road last year that we didn't get to celebrate her 21st birthday, but we're making up for it this year for her 22nd. Nessie, my beautiful grown up, me and your mum are so proud of the woman you've become, and I couldn't have ever asked for a better daughter. Love you Nessie, let's have a fun night and dominate the karaoke!"

The message ended with the noise of background cheers in the audio. It wasn't until a tear rolled off of the edge of her nose that Wednesday realised she was crying, and with a wracked, jittery breath, her chest began to rise and fall hard, so unprepared to hear the familiar voice of her dad coming from the teddy in her hands. Her eyes become glossy with the tears that didn't stop forming, blurring her vision as she let them slide down her cheeks sadly, the only sound now echoing through the house being that of her choked gasps for air as she began to sob.

She pressed the button again, hearing his voice once more as she hugged the teddy to her chest, trying to silence her own choked crying to hear him clearly again but unable to stop the desperate breaths she was taking through her nose. When it finished, she pressed it again. And then again. Unable to stop listening to the comforting sound of her dad's voice as it awoke the ball of grief that lay at the bottom of her stomach.

Sobs wracked her body as she pictured the memory so vividly—her parents had organised a surprise birthday party for her on her 22nd birthday, the year after the band had gone on hiatus, because she'd been unable to properly celebrate her 21st the year before. Harry, whose hair was still long at this point, had taken her to the venue under the pretence it was just going to be a small dinner with their friends. Instead, she'd walked into a mass cry of 'SURPRISE' as confetti cannons were let off all around her. It had been one of the most fun nights of her life as everyone had danced, sung karaoke and got drunk off of sambuca shots, especially her and her dad. The video must have been one Harry took during her dad's speech.

Her lower legs started to ache with pins and needles, the blood flow restricted by her kneeling position, but she didn't care. After 10 minutes of sobbing and choked breathes, her tears finally stopped coming, the tracks down her face drying as she leant back against the staircase and stared emptily at the front door, hugging the teddy to her stomach.

"I miss you," she said into the air, as quiet as a pin drop.

She didn't know how long she sat in that hallway, too exhausted by grief and sadness to do anything other than stare at the door. The air was chilly, and she knew she was cold, her body shaking and teeth chattering instinctively, but she didn't do anything.

That was the thing with grief. When it hit you, it hit you big, like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. There was no prior warning, no knowing when it would rear its ugly head again. But when it did, it would take every ounce of energy away from you, leaving only pain in its wake. Wednesday had once heard a description of grief from a friend that had summed it up perfectly. They'd said to imagine your life as a box, with a big ball in the centre of it that symbolised your grief. Inside the box also was a pain button. In the beginning, when the loss is still so fresh and raw, the ball is huge, almost touching the sides of the box. So big in fact, that you can't move the box around, without the ball hitting the pain button every time. The ball rattles around inside, hitting the button at random, giving hits of uncontrollable, unrelenting pain and there's nothing that can be done to stop it. But over time, the ball begins to shrink on its own. The ball still rattles around inside, but because it's smaller, it doesn't hit the button every time. But, every now and then, the ball will hit the button randomly and provide the same deep pain each time. That was how grief operated. You never stopped feeling it, but you felt it less often as time wore on.

Wednesday desperately wished the ball inside of her would shrink quicker.

Eventually, when the house turned dark and little light filtered through from the door window anymore, she got up weakly, clutching the teddy to her stomach. She could feel the hunger pangs in her stomach, the throbbing of a headache behind her eyes. Walking shakily up the stairs, she rounded the corner and turned into her bedroom, not wasting anytime in getting into bed and pulling the duvet over her, shutting her eyes to the world and praying she'd wake up to something better.

It was the sound of banging on her front door that forced Wednesday's eyes open the next day. She felt groggy, like her head had been filled with sawdust and her heart ripped out and stamped on. Moving her legs around, she curled her lips uncomfortably as she felt the denim on her legs, realising she'd slept throughout the entire night in the day before's outfit.

The banging echoed out once again and she groaned as she swung her legs over the bed, quickly standing up and swaying unsteadily as she exited her bedroom. Banging again.

"I'm coming," she yelled. "Fucking hell."

At this point, Wednesday was still so groggy from sleep that she didn't think to wonder over who was at her door, knowing that she wasn't expecting anyone.

But when she undid the latch and opened it, her stomach dropped as if she had just gone over the edge on the world's steepest rollercoaster.

Patrick.

/

another chapter for you all! hold on, the next few are going to get rough....