Pushing through the throng of after work commuters, I bit back the urge to cuss. My heart thundered in my chest and my clothes were starting to stick to the perspiration breaking out on my body.

Why am I always running late?

Despite working through lunch and leaving the office an hour early, somehow I was still rushing. It was like the universe was conspiring against me. At least, that's how it felt.

In the rush, I hadn't zipped up my bag as I left the office so, of course, everything had spilled across the floor on my way to the car. And then, to add insult to injury, when I had finally scraped the last of my belongings off of the tarmac, my fuel light lit up on the dashboard as I turned over the ignition.

Then, after fuelling up my car, I just had the poor misfortune to hit each and every red light on my way.

Bad luck? Or good luck?

Perhaps the universe knew how much I was dreading this conversation. Did it work that way? One of the younger staff members had tried to explain manifestation to me but a lot of it had gone over my head. A few more lessons were clearly required.

Glancing at my watch, I picked up my pace.

By the time I turned the final corner, I was almost sprinting. My feet pounded against the pavement, my bag slapping painfully against my hip with every step.

She's going to be so fucking mad at me.

Not that it took much to make my sister angry at me. It was like I had a special ability to wind her up without trying. Though, I would admit that, in the past, I had taken delight in angering her. I hurt so it was only fair that she hurt too.

But this was it. This was our new beginning.

And we're already starting on a bad note.

I slowed as I got close to the restaurant, my hand holding my side against the sharp pain. Leaning against the wall beside the entrance to the restaurant, my chest burned as I panted for breath. A group of women wandered past, their lively chatter washing over me in an intelligible blur.

A tear seeped from the corner of my eye before I could even register the strong perfume lingering in their wake. The scent hit hard and fast.

My breath stuttered in my chest. It was like I had been sucker punched, the sudden onslaught of emotion an overwhelming tide I had no power to resist. I had stupidly thought at one time that, once I found my equilibrium and returned to work that grief would stop having this power over me.

If only.

What a fool I had been. There was no hard and fast rule on dealing with this. There was no quick fix. There was no suddenly getting over it. Despite the months which had trickled past since we scattered Mum's ashes, the blows still came. Random things had a way of igniting a memory and throwing me right back to the start. The pain could be just as intense as it had been on the first day.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped at my damp cheeks.

"I'm such a bloody mess." I muttered to myself. Then, exhaling slowly, I shook my head, brushed imaginary dirt from my clothes before opening the door to the restaurant.

I stepped inside. The air conditioning blew down the back of my neck, cooling my warm clammy skin. Blinking in the sudden gloom, it took a moment to adjust to the lowly lit interior.

Plastering on a smile, I weaved through the tables towards a familiar head of blonde hair. Diane stood from the table as I approached. Her smile was tentative but it seeped away within seconds as she got a good look at my face.

"Rosie, what's wrong?" she asked, stepping towards me. She lifted her arms as if to hug me but swiftly dropping them back to her sides. "If you didn't want to come today, you could have just said."

I waved her off. "It's not you this time." When her brows lifted, I said, "I promise."

Her head tilted to the side and I knew what she would see. Puffy eyes and blotchy skin. There was nothing pretty about the way I cried. Thankfully, in my rush, I hadn't had time to apply makeup.

"I think I'm going to need more than that."

"It's stupid."

"Rosie."

I blew out a breath "A woman outside had Mum's perfume on. It caught me off guard."

"Ah." She replied, with a nod of her head. She carefully tucked her skirt around her legs as she retook her seat.

"Yes, ah." I replied, pulling out a chair and sliding into the spot opposite her.

Diane picked up her wine glass and peered at the contents before taking a generous sip. "It happens to me too." She confessed, placing the glass back on the table. "It was Katrina and Waves. It came on the radio and, for a moment, all I could see was Mum dancing around the kitchen with a wooden spoon in hand."

"It's always when you least expect it." I agreed, a familiar ache in my chest.

This time it had been her perfume. Last week, it had been a woman's laugh. The week before it had been a woman handing me my change in the shop. She had had hands like Mum. It was so bizarre and yet I was powerless to stop myself tumbling back down the hill into the pit of memories and grief.

Would I ever be able to think of her and not want to cry?

Diane surveyed me for a moment. "And how are you doing?"

"If you mean with Mum? It comes and goes. Some days it's brief, I feel sad but then I find a way to distract myself. Others? Not so good." I reached out and poured water into a glass, taking a big gulp. "It's strange, some days it still doesn't feel real."

Diane nodded her head, her finger absently tapping against her wine glass. "I know what you mean. If you ever want to talk."

I was so used to the fractured state of our relationship that my lips were already forming for a refusal. Instead, I pressed my lips together before they could slip past. It would be so easy to say the words – to continue our bitter cycle. But we were trying to be better.

I didn't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to worry every time I went to visit Dad that I would be in the middle of a hostile environment. What I did want was my sister back.

After only the briefest pause, I said, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Her lips quirked up in response. I ignored her, instead tugging out the napkin and placing it on my lap.

We settled into a stilted chatter at the waiter appeared to take our order. I learned about my niece and nephew's latest antics and the holiday they planned to take in the summer. It was only as she was distracted with her main course that I managed to find the courage to speak.

"I took the test."

Diane blinked, chewing slowly before swallowing a mouthful of seasonal vegetable. "Dad told me you asked for a sample months ago. I thought because you didn't say anything -."

I shook my head. "I was scared."

"It's been months. Why would you keep it a secret?" Diane rested her knife and fork gently on her plate. "It wasn't a match, was it?"

I shook my head.

"Have you told Dad yet?"

I blew out a breath slowly and nodded. "Yeah, last weekend. He took it better than I did." I released a shaky breath. "He told me I was still his daughter."

"Oh, Rosie." Diane reached a hand across the table and rested her hand over mine. "I hate to say it but you're Dad's favourite. Nothing will change that."

I huffed and blinked away tears. "I know that he still loves me. I know that. It's doesn't stop doubt, you know?"

"I know." Diane picked up her knife and fork. "So what's next? Are you going to try and find him?"

"I already did. Or at least, I know the plot he is in." I said, picking up my water glass and taking a big sip. "He passed a few years ago."

"I'm sorry, Rosie."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not." I snorted at the look on her face. "Oh don't look at me like that. I wouldn't wish him harm if he was still here. I just - ."

"You just what?" She prompted after a minute of silence.

"I just think that had he been alive, I wouldn't be pushing to be a part of his life. Knowing who he is – was – is enough. Dad was there when it counted. He taught me to ride a bike. He picked me up early from the school disco after Jimmy left me for Charlotte Baker midway through the slow dance." I shrugged my shoulders. "There's more to being a dad than DNA."

"I'm proud of you."

"There's nothing to be proud of." My nose wrinkled at the thought. "I've been messaging my half-brother and... I don't know. He clearly loved his dad but, as an outsider looking in?" I shook my head and shrugged. "Anyway, enough about that. When am I going to see the kids? I feel like I've missed so much and we still haven't had that dinner."

"Not so fast." She held up her finger and my words cut off abruptly. "A brother?"

"A half brother and two half-sisters." I nodded. "Only Graham wants to speak with me though. I get it. Who wouldn't? I'm just the walking proof that their dad cheated on their mum. I think I'd hate me too if I was them."

"Rosie!"

"It's the truth. I won't lie to you. It hurts being judged without them even meeting me but, I also see it from their side. At the end of the day, we may share DNA but we are still strangers. Besides, why would I want more sisters to piss off? I already have you."

Diane snorted and rolled her eyes. "I see what you're trying to do. This is a big deal, Rosie. You don't need to sweep it under the rug."

"Honestly, I'm fine. Well, as fine as the next person."

Diane watched me for several long moments before she sighed. "Right. Okay." She shook her head before picking up her glass and draining the rest of the contents.

For a second, I was tempted to order my own glass even as my stomach revolted at the thought. "Can we talk about something else? I feel like we always seem to focus on me."

I thought Diane was going to argue. Then, she nodded. "I actually have some news to share."

My eyes automatically drifted down towards her stomach, hidden by the table.

"Not that, thank you very much. I have more than enough to handle." She huffed, placing the cutlery across her plate. "I've thought a lot since that day on the beach. I've spent so long holding grudges and putting things off. Losing Mum has made me realise that life is too short. I don't want to look back in ten years and regret not making a change."

I frowned. "Okay?"

"We're moving back. All of us." Diane said. She swallowed loudly. "I don't want to say it but Dad's not getting any younger. I want to be here for him. I want to be here for you too. But, most of all, I want this kids to get to know you."

"Really? You're moving back?" I asked, my heart beating fast in my chest.

Diane gave a quivery smile. "One of the biggest regrets of my life is the way things have been between us." She looked away, clearing her throat loudly as she did so. "I want my sister back."

My throat was tight. "I would really like that too."