The rich scent of coffee surrounded Betsy like a comforting embrace as she settled into a stiff wooden chair at the back of the cafe. After darting a glance around to ensure no one was looking her way, she tugged the blue knitted hat from the top of her head. Her curls sprung free, falling around her face in a static halo as she quickly ducked behind one of the menus.

British weather had been her saviour. The dreary miserable weather had given her a perfect excuse to don a hat and hide her face behind a patterned scarf. It was the only way to slip past the paparazzi. After her photos had been splashed over the internet, people were suddenly interested in her. They had been interested in her before as Nick's latest fling but Betsy couldn't understand the sudden obsessive fascination they had with her.

The menu was yanked sharply from her hands. The blonde gasped, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Hey, it's just me." Claire soothed, dropping the menu on to the table. A frown formed between her brows as she stared down at her little sister. "You look like a mess and not in a good way either."

Betsy rolled her eyes, her hands fussing with her hair. "You try being hounded by men with cameras and we'll see how you fare."

Her sister stretched out her hand. Instinctively Betsy reached out took the offered comfort.

"How are you holding up? I've tried to visit a few times but there was a barricade of news vehicles in front of the property." Claire asked, her eyes focused wholly on her younger sister.

Despite how strong she had tried to appear for Nick, Betsy's shoulder slumped under her sister's gaze. With her sister, she knew she didn't have to hide how she truly felt. The blonde knew Nick already felt guilty over the photographs, she didn't want him hurting any more than he was.

"Honestly? I'm tired. So tired. I've been on edge for weeks now, waiting for something else to happen." With her free hand, Betsy rubbed at her bloodshot eyes and sighed. "I've been so worried about what else is going to appear out there. They have my name and it's only a matter of time before they find out about the rest of my life."

Claire fiddled with her bag, the top of a pink envelope sticking out through the open zipper. "You knew this was a possibility when you agreed to date him. You knew they would try to find out everything about you."

Betsy leant forwards, resting her head on the table as she let out a low groan. "I know." She grumbled as grains of sugar from the tacky table stuck to her forehead. "It's not me I'm worried about. I'm worried about you and the kids. I'm worried they'll find out about Peter and my divorce. They're private things and I don't want them to become just another bit of gossip."

"And that's all that's worrying you." Claire asked, prodding Betsy's head with her free hand.

On reflex, as her mind fell into that dark place, Betsy's fingers tightened around Claire's. She lifted her head, not even caring about what was stuck to her face, as she whispered. "No. It's not. I'm worried about everything." She swallowed loudly, her eyes blinking rapidly as she fought tears. "I want to be strong and say I am fine..."

"But you're not?"

Betsy shook her head. "I'm nowhere near fine. It makes me feel sick to my stomach that all of those people have seen my body. They've seen parts of me that I still struggle to look at. It makes me feel exposed in ways I have never felt before and I don't know how to deal with that."

Claire reached out hear hand, tucking her sister's frizzy curls behind her ear. "It's okay not to be strong all the time. It's alright not to be okay."

A tear formed in the corner of Betsy's eye. It spilled over and ran down her cheek. Her sister wiped it away and gave her a smile, her eyes full of familial love. It was something she didn't even realise she needed, love with no strings or expectations attached. Another tear dripped down, and another.

Betsy tried to hold them back but, now that the dam had broken, her chest heaved as she gave a strangled sob. Claire was up out of her seat in a moment, closing the distance between them and then pulling her little sister into a hug. She rested her head on top of Betsy's curls, her hands rubbing up and down her back.

"That's it, let it all out. It's okay to cry."

Betsy laughed and sobbed at the same time. Her sister's favourite perfume wrapped around her in a comforting embrace. She would never smell Ralph Lauren's Romance without thinking of her sister and feeling safe.

"I just feel -." Betsy stuttered, her mind scrambling to find the right words but unable to locate them. There were not enough words to describe the mess that was happening inside her head.

"It's okay." Claire murmured, her arms squeezing just a little bit tighter. "You don't need to explain."

After holding each other for a few more minutes, Betsy finally managed to gain some composure. Claire pulled out a pack of tissues from her bag and held them out.

"Thanks," Betsy muttered, mopping up her tears.

"You don't need to thank me." Claire replied, "Sit here for a moment while I get us some drinks."

Betsy nodded her head. As her sister headed towards the counter, the blonde scrunched screwed up the damp tissue. She was glad she couldn't see her reflection. Her face felt hot and swollen from the tears. She had always been an ugly crier, her skin turning red and blotchy.

Drawing in deep breaths, she focused on trying to calm her unsteady emotions. She couldn't afford to make a bigger scene than she already had. It would only take one person to recognise her and the paparazzi would be on her trail. The trip to the coffee shop was the first solo outing she had managed since the photos had been leaked.

Betsy's bloodshot eyes roamed over the patrons. There was a group of elderly ladies hunched over their mugs at the front of the store and a few workmen engrossed in their newspapers. None of them were paying her the slightest bit of attention. She blew out a breath and slumped back into her chair.

"Here you go. One gingerbread latte."

Betsy jumped as a mug was thumped down on the table before her. She glanced up at her sister and offered a weak smile. She wrapped her trembling hands around the mug and pulled it close, desperate to draw some warmth into her body.

Claire shrugged out of her cranberry coloured jacket and hung it over the back of the wooden chair. After a bit more fiddling and fussing, her fingers finding the pink envelope still sticking from her bag more than once,  she finally took a seat. Betsy watched as emotions flitted across her sister's face,  her eyes looking anywhere but her. Finally, she lifted her chin and folded her hands together on the table before her.

"I'm glad you're doing well." Claire began, her eyes searching even as she spoke. A small laugh escaped her lips when Betsy raised her brows. "Except for this mess of course. It's good to see more of the old you back again."

Betsy felt the ache of old hurt. Her hand rubbed at her check. The sting had dulled – she had barely noticed it happening – but the pain was still there. It would always be there. Yet the blonde smiled, her face echoing her sadness. "I don't think I'll ever be the old me again but I'm working on the new me."

"I like that idea," Claire beamed. "Have you thought about what you're going to do?"

Betsy paused with the cup raised to her lips, a frown forming between her blonde brows. "Do?"

"You know, when you finish being a housekeeper?" Claire stated, her hand halting her sister's words before she could speak. "You knew when you agreed to be a housekeeper that it wasn't going to be forever. I'm glad I made you do this because you've started to find yourself again. You needed to do that but I don't want you to define yourself as just Nick's girlfriend or his housekeeper. You need to think about the rest of your life."

She paused, her eyes watching the expression on the younger woman's face. "Betsy, you can't honestly tell me that you always wanted to be a housekeeper?"

"No, I didn't." Betsy confessed. She gently lowered the cup back down to the table and stared at the frothy contents with a sigh. "But I'm happy. Happier than I've ever been. Why would I want to change that?"

Claire leant forwards, her eyes focused wholly on her sister. Reaching out with her hand, she laid it on Betsy's arm. "I am happy for you. Happy that you've found Nick and the kids. But I want you to stay happy." Her voice was soft and non-confrontational but it still had Betsy leaning away as if she had just been struck. "If nothing had happened, if you had chosen your career, what would you have wanted to be?"

"You know I wanted to be a teacher."

"And has that changed?"

Betsy glanced down. "No." She sighed loudly. "But that will never happen. My pictures are all over the internet. What school would hire me now? I know I could make a difference but, even though it was my privacy that was invaded, my reputation has still be affected."

Claire paused, her eyes resting on her bag which sat on the table between them. She dragged her eyes away and stared at her sister with steel in her gaze. "You still need to take the chance. Life it too short. I believe you and Nick could make a real go of your relationship but let me tell you a secret. The relationships that last, the ones which go beyond the honeymoon phase, they're built on more than love. They're about respect. They're about being your own person separate from the one you love." She sat back. "If you rely solely on the other person to make you happy, when the slightest bump in the road appears, everything will fall apart. You might not want to admit it but that is part of the reason your relationship with Nathan fell apart."

"I can't even think about this right now."

Claire nodded her head. "That's understandable. I'm not telling you that you need to make a decision right now. I just want you to think about it." The older woman looked down at the table and drew in a deep breath. "For what it's worth, I want you and Nick to work. I think you're good for each other. But if you do this, I want you to do it with a clear head and certain heart. Nick will always have his business but I don't think you're the type of person who can spend their entire life at home playing the trophy wife. You need something."

Betsy picked up her cup and took a noisy sip. She knew she was delaying but even though she didn't like the words her sister was saying, she knew held a grain of truth. She loved Nick. She knew it with certainty. She loved the children too and could never imagine giving them up. But she needed to love herself too and she would never fully be able to do that if she gave up on everything she had dreamt of.

"I'll think about it." She answered finally when her sister continued to watch her.

"That's all I asked for."

Betsy hummed. "Sure it is."

Her sister laughed, her fingers playing with the envelope hanging out of her bag once more.

Betsy tilted her head to the side, curiosity outweighing tact. "What's in the envelope?"

Claire's fingers stilled, her face freezing for a moment, and then she smiled. "Just a letter but it's too early to send it. I want it to arrive at the perfect time."

Betsy shook her head. "You're taking a gamble. The post is all over the shop at the moment."

Claire chuckled and shook her head. "I think I'll take that risk." She took a sip of her chamomile tea and sighed. "Now, tell me what the kids have been up to this week."

There was still a lot to think about but in that moment Betsy was glad for the chance to sit, drink coffee, and spend time with her big sister. And just like that, the tension dissipated and the two of them were soon laughing loud enough to draw every eye in the room. It was exactly what they both needed.