There was nothing quite like the agony of limbo.

The first thing I did in the weeks that followed New Year's Eve was dye my hair back to its natural colour. Or at least as close to the blonde shade as possible. It took a few trips to the hairdressers, but as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I saw the old Beatrice.

I hadn't heard from Matt over the first month, and I couldn't claim I had tried to contact him either. It was hard at the beginning, especially that initial week. But as the days ticked by, I realised I should have concentrated on myself from the start. As much as I had fallen in love with him, I couldn't be the person he needed. We had to work through our own issues to come back together stronger. Hopefully.

I curled another strand of hair and hummed along to a melody playing out in my head. My eyes focused on a tiny spider making its way up the curtain in my room when the doorbell buzzed. Lost in my thoughts, I jumped, the curling iron slipped in my hand and I burned a section on my thumb.

"Shit," I hissed and popped it straight into my mouth to suck the red patch of flesh.

"Beatrice, you have another delivery," my mum shouted up the stairs.

My belly flipped, and I questioned for a minute if I should ignore her or check for myself. I could already guess what was waiting downstairs. I walked over to my windowsill, picked up the deep pink peony resting on its side, and placed it in the vase by my bedside. Six other faded blooms stood beside the partially wilted flower, each at different stages of decay but clinging on to a fraction of their shade. Dying from the inside out, but just as beautiful.

My chest tightened when I stepped into the kitchen and caught sight of my mother holding up a vivid blue bouquet to her nose.

"He got you hydrangeas today. Aren't they pretty?" she said, taking a deep breath in.

My mouth turned dry, and I gripped my stomach. Yes, Matt hadn't spoken to me that first month, but the day I decided I was ready for one-to-one therapy, he had a gorgeous flower arrangement sent to my house via Zaire. After that, I received a new bouquet weekly; always when I was scheduled to see Helen. Zaire no longer served as courier with him having them delivered directly from a local florist.

"Still no card?" Disappointment sagged through me. The weekly gift was thoughtful, but I longed for words. Some sort of message from Matt, letting me know we would be okay after everything.

Mum shook her head but smiled, nonetheless. "We both know it's him. Call him. I'm sure he's waiting for you to be ready first."

"I will, Mum. Just want to be better." I checked the watch on my wrist and plucked one of the petalled globes out of the bouquet. "You keep the rest. I have to hurry and get ready. Zaire will be here any minute."

I wiped down my windowsill, after the last flower lost a couple of petals, and positioned the hydrangea in the same place as the last one.

Vibrant and alive, but soon enough each petal would wither; a reminder that life was short. Even stemmed flowers died when cut from their roots. If I didn't keep hold of mine, I could fade like that flower. And then what good would it be to have Matt know I loved him? Love him. No, as much as I wanted to see him again, I owed myself this break.

I was still glaring at the sill, looking for some profound meaning in a single bloom, when Zaire walked straight into my room.

"See you have more flowers. Gonna call him?"

I stayed silent and returned to curling the last section of my hair.

"Come back to the flat with me. Speak to him. He misses you."

Each week Zaire tried to drag me back to the bar or their shared apartment, but a small niggle in the back of my mind told me I needed to wait if I wanted us to work. "I can't. Not yet. Please understand."

"Okay, let's go before you're late."

Zaire's voice sounded like someone who was losing all patience with me, and I worried everyone felt the same. What if Matt wasn't there when I got over this? The negative beliefs evaded my mind, and I slipped my fingertips under the rubber band on my wrist, beside my watch. I pulled the red elastic back and snapped it against my skin. Stop.

***

"Think you're ready to sit up front?"

I wandered over to the passenger side of Zaire's car and loosely gripped the door handle. My insides flipped and bile rose in my throat before I hesitated and settled on the backseat as usual.

"You know what? Not today. But next week. I'll do it next week." I twisted my hands in my lap and glanced out the window, away from my best friend.

"We'll do it soon. You're trying. How did the hospital application go?"

"I've filled it all in. Just need someone to sign off on it to say I'm fit to return."

"You don't need to do that course then, like you were worried?"

"No, luckily it's been just over a year and not three or I would have. And I paid my renewal fee for the NMC before my break, so that's covered. For now."

"Your nursing renewal? Can't believe they still make you pay those, but that's great news. You're all set then. I can take you down there for a feel of the place if you want?"

"No! I mean, thanks and all, but that's okay, I'll go with my dad." My voice started out high pitched, and I widened my eyes, fearing he would catch my lie. In the end, honesty won. "I didn't send it off. The form. I went to do it but bottled it." I couldn't even do that yet. Helen and I were working through each step to regain control of my life and that form had been a small fraction of it but weirdly one of the hardest to get past.

"But you filled it in. That's a start. Months ago you wouldn't even consider it." The indicator clicked on and off until he turned down the main road to the clinic. "By the way, spoke to Saf's mum last week."

I wrapped my arms around myself and shrunk back, keeping my eyes on the view outside. "Oh, yeah. How did that go?" I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Any mention of Saffron's parents still made me come out in cold sweats. They had yet to acknowledge any of my letters or speak to anybody from our friendship group. That was, except for Zaire it would seem.

"Surprisingly well. She wanted me to thank you for the photo album you dropped off after Christmas." Zaire kept his tone detached, his eyes fixed on the road, but he peered up as I shuffled forward to rest my chin on the empty passenger seat.

My features relaxed at Zaire's words, and a wide grin adorned my face. "Really? That's nice. Did she say anything else? Maybe I could see them soon?" I held still, my breath bottled up in my chest; hoping and waiting.

"I'll go with you." He pulled up outside a white, modern building, the same building as every week. "And would you look at that, we're here already. I'll pick you up in an hour."

I sagged back and gave a weak nod even though he wasn't looking my way. My fingers faltered on the inner door handle. Seeing Helen had been my choice. She might have set everything up for me before Christmas, but I didn't take her up on it straight away. It took me an entire month after the winter break to call the clinic up and book myself in. I had been so very lucky that she didn't give my space away, but enough money kept lots of doors open. I suspected my mother had something to do with that.

This was your choice. Not theirs. For you, not them.

I repeated each statement while I walked into the building, announced myself to the receptionist, and waited for my therapist.

"Beatrice Leighton, would you like to head upstairs now?"

Giving the receptionist a smile that didn't reach my eyes, I brushed my palms down my top to smooth out the fabric and made my way up the stairs to my right.

Despite attending Helen's group sessions, my first one-to-one was somewhat of a blur. I was lost for words and spent most of our time crying and apologising for being so overwhelmed. Helen sat and listened until I was ready, never judging. It got easier over time.

"Ah, Beatrice, take a seat. How have we been since last week?" She stood briefly and motioned to the chair closest to her window. I had noticed that about Helen in our group sessions. The days she thought someone might need extra support, she would move them closer to a window, closer to a natural source of light. I hadn't figured out if it was a conscious decision or if that's where she found her solace.

"Good. I guess."

"Did you get that slice of cake you were looking forward to? I almost went there myself to get a slice after you told me." Her smile warm, she moved her chair forward until it faced mine and picked up her pale green, leather-covered notepad.

"Yes, a massive chocolate and cherry one. Zaire's taking me there again when we're finished." I relaxed back and mirrored her smile. I loved that small gesture Zaire had started each week. He had decided no matter how I came out from my visits, he would treat us to cake. Not at Beautiful Chaos though. He had found us a new cafe as our regular hangout.

"Talking about Zaire, how is that going lately? Have you seen an improvement in the last few weeks?"

I twisted the ring on my finger and chewed on my bottom lip, guilt washing over me as I recalled our argument. "A bit. He comes to my house or I meet him at his parents'. I still don't go to his apartment."

After a long pause, I continued, "I told him I was upset with him about Matt. I know that was unkind, with everything he's been through himself. But he knew all about Bailey and let me find out on my own. He defended Matt when he should have been on my side." Tension rose in my voice just like it was in my jaw as I clenched my teeth together. I released the pressure and my cheeks burned. "Sorry. I'm not angry anymore. Just when I bring it up. I realise he doesn't take sides. He sees the best in everyone, but for once, I'd like him to get angry as well. Why do I have to feel so hurt all the time, but everyone else gets to move on?"

I couldn't hold back as I gazed out into the room and away from her window. My fists balled at my sides and I had to get up, move around. My legs were restless. Helen looked on, never interrupting my outburst. My once easy smile soured between pinched lips, and my fingers scratched along my eyebrow in a self-soothing movement.

"I don't want to keep feeling this way anymore," I said, my voice trembling. "I should be happy he's moving on, but then this little buzzing sound inside my brain goes off and I realise I'm bloody jealous. Jealous that he's not the one in therapy, all messed up." My mouth fell open, and I covered it up behind my hand. "Sorry, I'm really sorry. This isn't me." With darkness creeping in, I stilled and snapped the rubber band on my wrist. I subconsciously told myself to resist all those negative thoughts and searched for some water.

Helen placed her pen and notepad on the side and walked over to the jug and cup she had waiting for me each session. "That's the most you've shared since we started. Anger is a normal reaction to what has happened recently. It makes a change from bottling everything up. Let's talk some more about this jealousy."

After I gulped the water down, I returned to my chair. "I left a photo album outside Saffron's house and her mum told Zaire to thank me." Glancing up at Helen, I squirmed on the spot as shame seeped in. "I was glad she finally acknowledged it, but also disappointed she agreed to meet Zaire and not me. I've been asking for weeks now."

"And that made you feel jealous?"

My eyes brimmed with tears and I nodded, unable to voice my response. I was a horrible person.

"Do you think you might be misdirecting that anger towards Zaire? Saffron's parents chose to see him, not Zaire. Matt chose not to tell you every detail about Bailey. Zaire is the middleman in all this and you're directing your anger towards him because he's your safe house. The person you feel won't reject you. Anger is a secondary emotion that often masks sadness or fear."

"Maybe. I've never really thought of it like that." But whichever way I looked at it, those feelings were real and I was growing tired of them.

"What might you be afraid of? Let's start with Saffron's parents." Helen grabbed her notes and scanned over the pages while she waited.

"I don't know."

"Oh, but you do. Why do you have this need for them to approve of you again?"

"Because I don't want them to forget I was a large part of Saffron's life. Because if they do, I might forget our happiest memories together."

"You won't forget those. They're your memories, not theirs. You must remember they are going through their own journey with grief. And if they continue to keep you at arm's length, you might just have to accept that. A big part of moving on is realising that some people can't change and you don't have to be happy about it, but you do have to move past it so you can focus on your healing."

A subtle alarm sounded, and Helen moved around her desk to turn it off. "We are coming to the end of today's session and before you go, I would like to remind you to write all those feelings down in your journal. How did today make you feel? Write about that misdirected anger and how you can shift your mindset if it isn't working for you. You could also write about the goals you want to accomplish and why. If you are ready, we can talk about it next week. And please, do not be put off by the emotions that came to the surface today. You did brilliantly and we are moving forward."

After we said our goodbyes, I stepped out into the fresh air and closed my eyes. I let the breeze brush the last hour out of my hair and heavy limbs that were weighted down by my heightened emotions. Helen's explanation about anger rang in my mind, and I was transported back to Christmas day when Matt mentioned his own anger with the world after he lost Bailey.

He hadn't felt angry around me, only hopeful. He said it himself. Did he lose that sadness he carried when we were together?

Deep in my heart, I couldn't accept everything we had together was fake. What we had couldn't be the lie.

***