"Come on, Rosie." I muttered before I drew in a deep steadying breath. "You can do this." 

Pushing open the door to the office with my back, I caught my lip between my teeth as I carefully manoeuvred the large white box through the door. A sweetness seeped from the opening, the scent quickly reminding me that I had skipped breakfast. My stomach gurgled at me in protest but I ignored my hunger and proceeded to the kitchen.

Heads bobbed up over screens as I passed, their eyes following my path like curious meerkats. I would like to think it was the promise of doughnuts that had drawn their attention. It would be easier. More comfortable. But I knew it was my sudden appearance that had all of their focus.

After all, they had not had any forewarning. Even I hadn't.

Only the day before, I had been wrapped up in blankets fighting a battle between crying at the ache in my heart and the inescapable self loathing that I had let myself sink so low.

Yet, after spending an entire week on annual leave, and contemplating another, there had only been one option. I needed this. I needed to return to my normal life. Or at least, a normal life where my dad and my step-mum were not trying to mollycoddle me to death.

It had been nice. At first. But, after years of taking care of myself, it had been stifling to be asked if I was okay and if I needed anything twenty times a day. They didn't understand. They couldn't understand. They hadn't spent years being lonely. They hadn't spent years relying on only themselves. Not like I had.

For so long, I had wanted to know what it felt like to be included. To be loved. It was a secret I had buried deep. The part of me that longed to be doted upon. To be supported.

I didn't know what I was asking for.

Now I was living the reality with stage three clingy parents. It was suffocating. I had never had so much attention focused just on me over such a prolonged period of time. And yet, I wouldn't tell them to stop. It meant a lot to them – made them feel useful when there was no easy and quick fix to the grief I was working through.

In a way, it was a relief to have someone else making the decisions and taking care of everything. And, though I hated to admit it, it was nice to know they cared.

Depositing the box on the side, I dusted my clammy hands against my work trousers as if it would dust off the nerves. I lifted the lid of the box before heading to the coffee machine to make Jacob his morning coffee.

Yet, before the machine could even begin its angry hiss and spits as it started its program, arms wrapped around me from behind. Arms which squeezed me tightly before swiftly releasing me.

"You're back. You didn't tell us you were coming back." Lindsey said, coming to stand at my side. She folded her arms over her chest as she propped her hip against the side.

"I didn't know." I shrugged. "I didn't want to make a fuss either."

"We were all worried about you. Richie was worried about you."

As she had been known to do, she put emphasis on the last statement but I didn't have the energy to try and decrypt her tones. Even if, on some level, I recognised what she was trying to imply.

Instead, the familiar knot in my stomach wrenched tight. With a wince, I said, "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to worry anyone. I didn't mean to really do anything. It just all --."

I paused, my brow wrinkling as I tried to find the right words. "It all just became too much."

Lindsey's head tilted to the side, her lips pursing as her gaze narrowed in on my face. After a moment, she nodded.

"Just don't do it again."

My lips curled up at the corners in a weak smile. "I'll try."

"Not try. Do."

"I'll tr-." I paused at her sharp look. "I won't do it again."

"Rosie," a male voice breathed. "Oh, thank God."

I drew in a breath and then, ever so slowly, I turned to face Richie. He looked exactly as I remembered. Though, I'm not sure why I was expecting him to have changed. Perhaps it was because I was so fundamentally changed. At least, that's what it seemed like. I had been torn apart, brought to rock bottom, and put back together by the sheer determination of my family. I wasn't the same. I would never be the same. I couldn't even say that I was okay.

I opened my mouth to say something but, before I could utter a single word, Richie arms were around me. He hugged me to his chest, my feet dangling over the floor. I held on to him just as tightly, my heart aching in the process.

He mumbled words against my shoulder. I squeezed him tighter even though I couldn't make out his words. I didn't need to. I understood the sentiment enough.

Breathing in the familiar Richie smell, the tension in my shoulders eased. I blinked and rested my chin upon his shoulder as he continued to hug me as if I was oversized teddy bear. The contact was strangely bearable.

I blinked again as realisation set in. When did Richie become my best friend?

Somehow, this overly persistent man had wormed his way into my life. He had made me care. And he cared too. The worry and concern was evident in the stranglehold he had on me. It was bordering on uncomfortable but this moment was for him. Not me.

Turning my head just so, I murmured into his ear. "I'm sorry. I'm okay."

The words were repeated over and over again until at last he shuddered. Gently, he lowered me to the ground before releasing the tight hold he had upon my body. He took a step back before reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He looked at me. Looked away.

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what came over me."

"It's okay."

He shrugged before dropping his hand down to his side. "I came to your flat. More than once."

"I know." I admitted.

"You never answered."

"I couldn't. I didn't want you to see me like that. I didn't want anyone to see my like that. I wasn't in a good place."

Richie nodded his head. "I was worried about you. I thought-."

My throat was dry, almost painfully so as I swallowed.

"I'm sorry." Because what else was there to say?

Would have I allowed it to go that far? A part of me wanted to deny it but when I was in that endless loop of binging alcohol and sinking into oblivion? It would have been all too easy to take it too far. Alcohol poisoning was real. Diane had put enough of those horror stories into my head over the past few days to firmly imprint that realisation.

Not that I particularly wanted alcohol ever again. Now that I was free of intoxication, the thought of even one shot of vodka was enough to make my stomach rebel. I was on the teetotal wagon and I wasn't sorry. Its ability to mask my grief was not worth this.

"Are you back now? Like back back."

My lips pulled up into a genuine smile, my cheeks aching from the unfamiliar gesture. "Yes, I'm back back." I bit my lip before adding. "Thank you for calling them."

Richie shrugged. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb. You called my sister." I sighed. "It was the wakeup call I needed."

"Well, maybe I did call them."

"Idiot."

"Your idiot." He teased.

After a brief pause, I agreed. "Yes, my idiot."

He paused. He blinked several times as he stared at me in disbelief. "What?"

"I'm asking if you want to be my friend." Moving to the box on the counter, I opened the lid to reveal row after row of decorated doughnuts. "I bring baked goods as a peace offering."

There was an awkward silence between us. We just looked at one another before a loud sigh cut through the tension. My cheeks heated with the reminder that we weren't alone. Our entire stilted exchange had been witnessed by someone else.

"Jesus, you two are idiots." Lindsey stepped between them and picked up a doughnut. "He accepts. You're friends. You love each other. Yada yada yada."

I stilled. Love? She was crazy. Sure, I liked Richie. I had even come to depend on him in small ways. But love? That was a bit strong.

Lindsey's eyes caught mine and she laughed. "Oh, stop being so serious." She shook her head before muttering. "Even if I am right."

Swallowing, I glanced towards the box and hurriedly picked up a doughnut before taking a massive bite. With cheeks puffed out, I offered a shrug to the other two. Richie smiled but Lindsey just gave me that look. The one that saw too much.

I shifted from foot to foot, swallowing too much doughnut at once. I coughed into my elbow, wondering briefly if this was how I was going to die. It certainly was painful enough. Death by doughnut. Perhaps that would be preferable to understanding the expression on Lindsey's face. The one that said she knew something I didn't. It was the look that made me want to re-examine all of my thoughts and feelings when I had barely clawed myself out of the last pit of feelings.

No. I couldn't. It was too soon.

Instead, I plastered a bright smile upon my face. "So, what's been going on around here? What did I miss?"

Richie watched me for a moment. Then, giving the smallest nod of his head, he picked up his own doughnut, this one with chocolate sprinkles on the top. "What did you miss? Only the most epic karaoke night of all time. I did a rendition of Adele that would have made you weep."

"In pain?" Lindsey teased, momentarily distracted.

The two quickly fell into a playful bicker. I leaned back against the side and gaze a small sigh before taking another bite of the sweet dough.

The grief was still there, lingering beneath. In some ways, I knew it always would be. But, as I listened to their voices volleying back and forth, it became easier to manage. I wasn't alone. Not completely.