My pen flowed along each line as realisation hit. I couldn't silence the storm, but I could steady myself instead. Glancing up at the digital clock on my bedside table, I involuntarily groaned. Thirty minutes before Zaire picked me up for therapy. I needed to get these ideas out. I felt confident that I was on the right track and couldn't wait to share them with Helen.

I startled when the ring of the doorbell interrupted my train of thought and my neat handwriting was sullied by the jolt of my pen across the page.

"Mum? You going to get that?" I screamed out of my bedroom as it chimed for the second time. On the third buzz, I hurried down the stairs before my unknown visitor left.

"Sorry about that," I said to the delivery driver as I signed for the most exquisite bouquet of coral cabbage roses with cream buds and silver like foliage scattered throughout. "Thank you. Have a lovely day." I closed the door using my hip and looked over the flowers for any card. Still nothing. A heaviness settled in my body. I didn't want the disappointment to take over, but it became harder with each day that passed without a single word from him. Stupid really when I was doing the same.

I placed the arrangement on the kitchen table and went in search of my mother's favourite vase. "Mum? You really not in?" Nothing. Where was she? I gripped the side of the counter and leaned over the sink to see out the window. Her car was on the driveway, but there was no sign of her at home.

After positioning the bouquet in the living room, I selected a single rose to keep on my windowsill. The hydrangea bloom from the previous week barely held on to its dusky blue shade. I slipped it in beside my other faded flowers, careful not to damage the petals when they brushed the edge of my vase.

Fifteen minutes left before my appointment. My journal lay open on the page with the three goals I had set myself. I longed for the day I would cross them off.

"You will get there," I promised myself in a whisper and closed my eyes to count down from ten.

I inhaled and held my breath on three. My phone rang, interrupting my counting, and I exhaled. The call petered off, no doubt my voicemail kicking in, so I started the process again.

One... What if that was Mum, and she needed me?

Two... I toyed with the elastic band on my wrist but didn't snap it.

Three... Nothing bad could happen in ten seconds. Keep counting.

Four... I breathed in...

Five... and held it again.

Six... She could be hurt somewhere.

Seven... I pulled the band back and let go, the sting enough to halt my train of thought.

Eight... Exhale.

Nine... My phone rang once more.

Ten... A churning in my stomach intensified, and I reached out for the device.

Without checking the screen, I answered, and the next words stole all the air in my room.

"... car accident... Zaire's in the hospital..." Submerged in an ocean of dread, CeCe's voice faded and distorted in non-existent waters. "... Bea, can you hear me?"

My heart hammered against my ribs, I sank faster while panic lapped overhead. The phone slipped out of my hand and dropped to my feet. My lungs burned, unable to take any oxygen in while I fought against the undertow and any movement was like wading through water. That water became glacial; my adrenaline kicked in and I rushed to my parents' bedroom. I had to get to him.

"Mum? Mum?" I shouted through the house as I raced down the stairs, into the living room and my dad's office. The corner of my jumper snagged on the door handle and I jolted back. Hot tears ran down my face, blurring my vision as I entered each room. "Dad, Mum? Is anyone home? Please someone be home," I begged to an empty kitchen. Why was everyone missing when I needed help?

Logic did not come into play when I spotted my mum's keys on their hook in the hallway and hurried to her car. If it had, I would have seen my mother talking to our next-door neighbour. Instead, I started the engine with stumbling fingers, wiped my eyes from any leftover tears and drew in a calming breath. Zaire needed me there. Anything else could wait till later.

It wasn't until I had turned off my street that I realised what I was doing. Shit, I can't drive this car. My foot eased off the accelerator pedal and I came to a standstill. What could I do now? I couldn't leave the car in the middle of the road. I couldn't ring anyone to come get me. My phone lay on my bedroom floor because I never thought to pick it up while I was in shock. If I went back home, I would delay my journey to the hospital, and I needed to see if my best friend was okay.

I couldn't lose him on top of everything else.

My fists tightened around the steering wheel and my muscles along my shoulders tensed before I put the car in first gear.

Even as I joined the motorway, the pounding in my ears never ceased. I was dangerously under the speed limit. Cars sped beside me, and if I wasn't so desperate to get to Zaire, I would have crumbled to pieces on the side of the road.

"Will you fuck off and just go past me," I spat at the car driving so close it was practically up my backside. "Go round me, you prick!" I stuck my middle finger up, hoping he saw it in my rearview mirror.

My gesture was returned when he realised I wouldn't go any faster and drove past, honking his horn. My need to make it to Zaire safely overshadowed my initial fear of being in the front of a car again.

"I don't want to crash," I muttered to myself. "I can't go faster, I just can't." A pain shot along my jaw from clenching my teeth. My entire body felt like it was barely holding on, but nonetheless fighting to move us forward.

The ache in my chest loosened when the sign to the hospital came into sight. I was fooled into thinking the hardest part was over.

Finding the closest parking spot to the accident and emergency entrance, my gaze locked on the dash and my fingers trembled around the gear stick. I couldn't focus. Had I even stopped the engine?

Black dots danced in my vision, and my head thumped from an invisible vice squeezing my skull. The sound of my heartbeat thrashed in my ears and I covered them with my clammy palms. A rush of heat ran up my neck and in that instant I swung the door open to spill my insides on the tarmac of the parking bay, narrowly missing the car floor.

"What is it about me finding you with vomit on your chin?"

Wiping my mouth with a tissue from the glove box, I peered up at Matt through my eyelashes. I waited for my nerves to kick in, for the churning in my stomach to return, instead I blew a slight sigh of relief and the ringing in my ears eased.

"You're here," I said, not quite believing he was really standing in front of me with his black hair, unruly from pushing his fingers through it too many times, and those honey pools I had missed every single day we were apart.

"I went to your house as soon as I got the call, but your mum said you just left." He cocked his head to the side and pinched his bottom lip. "Thought I might catch up with you on the back roads but never saw you. Where did you go?"

I rummaged around in the centre console for a chewing gum to mask the taste of vomit. "Took the motorway."

His eyes widened, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You know he's okay? CeCe told you that, right?"

I shook my head, and tears bubbled to the surface, threatening to fall at any moment. If only I had waited or asked CeCe questions, instead of going into a blind panic.

"Oh, Bea. Come here." He held out his hand to help me out of the car, over my puddle of leftover stress, and pulled me to his strong chest.

"I—, I didn't know what to do." I broke and buried my face in his shoulder, softening against him. If this was the last time I had to hold him, I had to make the most of it. I breathed in his usual cedar with a mix of mint scent and a calmness washed over me even while my thoughts of Zaire never ceased.

He combed my hair through his fingers and spoke in soothing murmurs against the top of my head. "I know. I know."

"He's okay then?" I asked, my voice muffled in his hoodie.

"Yeah. He's gonna be fine. Dumbass broke his collarbone and lower leg. Nothing a cast and being pampered by his nana won't fix."

A tight sob hiccuped from my mouth, making Matt hug me closer. "Oh, Matt, where were you?" All those weeks of working on myself seemed insignificant without him, almost wasted. I realised I couldn't think that way. After all, we had kept our distance for a reason.

"I didn't know what to do either." His voice held a note of vulnerability.

Our conversation was no longer about Zaire, and we both understood that.

"I wanted to give you some space, but I promise I was there. I was always there. Nearly cracked and was ready to gatecrash one of your coffee dates with Zaire but talked myself out of it." He stepped backward and cupped my face, his thumbs stroking behind my ears. "I quit the group."

"What?" I jerked back and my mouth fell open. By taking time out to focus on my mental health, I didn't want him to abandon all the work he had done on his.

"That group. I quit that group and Helen. I found someone else to help with—" he looked around, making sure no one was eavesdropping—, "well, you know. Can we talk about this later? I have loads I need to say and you probably want to see Zaire right now?"

"Yeah, I do." My gaze flitted between the hospital and Matt. And I clutched onto the edge of his hoodie. "Don't think I can go in there though."

"We'll go in together." He circled his arm around my waist and steered us away from the A&E entrance and towards the main doors. "He's in outpatients. Remember, not as bad as we thought."

My body trembled against his side and I kept my steps small not rushing the walk inside. If only I had attempted this visit before. None of it would have been this hard. But there I was, facing the same place where I was told they couldn't wake up one of my best friends. She hadn't died in this building, but those walls had heard my cries when I woke up after that accident. I vowed they wouldn't hear them again, whether it was for a loved one or a stranger. I couldn't do it anymore.

"Zaire's okay," I repeated to myself, in a silent chant. Had the news been otherwise, I couldn't say if I would have survived it. Luck would have it I wouldn't find that out.

My chest caved, and I rubbed my elbow to relieve the tension materialising in my limbs. I twisted towards Matt, eyes wide, begging him to quell the distress brewing underneath.

Matt trailed a comforting path up my back and settled his grip at the base of my neck. The warmth of his skin on mine quietened the surge of anxiety.

***