I didn't leave the flat for the rest of the week. I didn't get dressed, didn't shower, and didn't eat. Everything inside me hurt, my heart the most.

Charlotte came by on Friday afternoon with Erin. Forcing me to eat the Big Mac meal that had gone cold in the bag by the time she got to my place, she listened patiently for hours while I picked apart every detail of where it had all gone wrong. Without knowing the whole truth about Noah's past, though, I think she struggled to fully understand.

Still, like any good friend, she let me ramble on until my voice was hoarse and my eyes were sore from crying. After she had practically carried me into the shower, I emerged to find she'd tidied the flat and had made a fresh pot of tea.

"I need to get Erin home for bed soon, will you be okay? She asked, starting to pack up the nappy bag as Erin gurgled and cooed quietly on her rollout mat.

"I'll be fine," I replied, looking down at the adorable pink blob that was giving me a gummy grin while kicking her legs in the air with wild abandon. Probably wind.

The smile that crossed my lips felt good. It was nice to smile at something again. I didn't imagine it would last for long after they both left but, for that split second, it felt good.

On Saturday, I woke up late to a missed call from Kris. Returning his call with a couple of taps, he was out of breath as he answered.

"Abs, I'm jogging. Potentially dying, I'm not sure yet."

His melodramatic opener caused me to let out a laugh. A smile and a laugh in less than twenty-four hours? Maybe all I really needed was my friends to bring me back to life.

After a quick catch up, he promised to pop round before the weekend was over. He'd obviously been given the full lowdown from Charlotte, as Kris had only stepped foot in my flat a handful of times since I'd moved in. If he was coming over voluntarily, he must have been worried.

Stretching out in my bed, my phone was still in my hand as I reached my arms high above my head and let out a long groan. As it began to vibrate again, I didn't even bother looking at the screen before tapping my thumb against it and bringing the handset to my ear.

"What's up, did you die?" I said, smiling to myself at the thought of Kris attempting to keep up with the smug jogger brigade, swarming the city's parks on a Saturday morning in their best running gear.

"Uh, hello? Is that Abi?"

I shot up quick as a flash, swinging my feet onto the floor and standing up to peer suspiciously out of the window for no apparent reason.

"Yeah, who's this?"

"It's Will. From the other night, at the club. Hope you don't mind me calling?"

I let out a small sigh of relief as I returned to sit back on my bed. "Of course not," I began. "How's it going?"

After the initial pleasantries were out of the way, Will stammered his way through the whole point of why he was calling. As we confirmed plans for a final time and hung up, I only had two hours to get washed, dressed, and be in Central London for lunch.

If friends were all I needed to get through this shitty part of my life, there was nothing wrong with that including new friends. Friends who didn't know the story of me and Noah, me and George, me and my dad.

Friends who wouldn't unintentionally bring up old wounds, but simply get to know me for who I was.

Lunch with Will was a strange experience. Strange but good. Over Mexican food by the river, things had gotten off to a slightly awkward start when I ordered a plate of hot wings and he went for the vegetarian dips. Conversation was stilted as we waited for our first margaritas to arrive, his long fingers rolling and unrolling the paper napkin in front of him as we asked each other a series of polite questions. In the short job interview that took place across the table, I discovered he was twenty-five, a reformed smoker, an Aries, and even more good looking than I remembered.

Thankfully, by the time mains had arrived and we were two drinks in, things had become a lot more comfortable. In fact, talking to Will turned out to be easy. He was funny, really funny, and his warm, Northern accent was like a comfy duvet as he told me stories about his life and asked questions about mine.

He was a good listener, so good that it almost caught me off guard a few times and I almost ended up talking about Noah. But I didn't want to talk about Noah. Swerving the conversation back around to him, he seemed more than happy to lead.

The way he spoke about his brother, Shaun, was adorable. They'd been through their fair share of shit since Shaun had come out. Shit that Will had needed to step in for and protect his younger sibling. He was definitely a protector, not afraid to put his own life on hold to look after those he loved. Apparently, he'd been packing to head to Denmark and take a new design job when Shaun had turned up at his flat in tears, desperate to start a new life away from stares and comments of small-town bigots.

With one phone call, Will had put his own ambitions to one side in order to look after his brother's needs. He had put someone he loved ahead of his own dreams.

Once we'd shared a plate of churros and a shot of tequila for the road, Will picked up the tab and we headed down to walk along the embankment, weaving in and out of the swarms of tourists posing for pictures with Big Ben in the background. I couldn't help but think of the times Noah and I had done the exact same thing. Except he would have come up with a dare or a secret challenge that we needed to complete before heading home. Get into the middle of a photo with people you'd never met hugging you as though they were old friends, or convince a group of exchange students that, to hail a taxi, they needed to wave both hands in the air. Something stupid and spontaneous. Something Noah-like.

As we got closer to the tube station and stopped outside to face each other, the thought of going home to spend another evening on my own was becoming more real by the second. The offer to come back and watch a movie had left my lips before I even really knew whether it was a genuine offer.

"If you're sure?" Will smiled, cocking his head to one side. His blue eyes seemed to light up with the prospect of our day together not yet being over, and the auburn tones in his hair were accentuated under the pink light of the setting sun. He was shorter than Noah, but still tall enough that I had to bend my neck to look up at him. To look at his full lips as they twitched up in hope. To take in the detail of his strong jawline and the sculpted, sharp line of his cheekbones.

A small shiver ran through my spine. "I'm sure," I smiled, before stepping ahead of him to lead the way underground.

By the time we turned onto my street, I had somehow found my hand in Will's. I don't know when, or how, it had happened, but it felt good to be walking with someone who wasn't afraid of being seen with me. When we approached the steps to my front door, he let go and placed his hand on the small of my back as he held open the gate. My hand felt cold without his around it. Glancing up at him through my eyelashes as I struggled to find my keys in the messy labyrinth that was my trusty red leather bag, his smile was genuine. Trustworthy. Reliable.

The strong floral smell that engulfed the shared hallway hit me like a tidal wave.

"God," Will said as he followed me in and close the door, "Someone's been a bit busy with the scented candles."

"Makes a change from unidentified cooking and wet dog," I whispered, picking up my post from the woodenconsole table. "The ground floor people have got two ginormous Labradors and I think the woman in flat two owns shares in a spice company or something."

He let out a quiet huff of laughter through his nostrils and followed me up the stairs, the fragrance becoming stronger with each step.

Turning the key in the door to my flat, I pushed it open and stepped inside. Just as I reached the entrance to the living room I heard Will clicking the door closed behind him and, in an instant, wished we had said goodbye at the tube station.

At least one hundred huge white roses filled the room, interspersed with delicate pink lilies. Ornate bunches of blooms in glass vases took up every corner, every surface, and every inch of floor space apart from around the sofa. The sofa on which Noah currently laid, one tattooed arm dangling to the floor, the other draped across his face as his chest rose and fell steadily.

"Shit, I didn't realise you lived in a florist's shop!"

The bemused grin that accompanied his loud remark fell from Will's face as he stepped into the room. As Noah jumped and quickly sat up from his position, his messy blonde hair sticking straight up on one side, he blinked his eyes a few times and tried to piece together what the hell was going on.

Exactly the same as I was trying to do.