It may be too hot for jeans today. The warmth of the window sill reminds me that the winter time is finally over, it may be time to invest in some clothes to match the changing seasons. I sit on the end of the bed and pull on my shoes as I look at my half finished painting that I started last night. Just another view from my window, but this time I sat around the other way to get a different view. A new perspective, it was a nice change.

Heather moves about the kitchen at a snails pace, making herself a cup of tea. I pause for a second and watch her; she doesn't seem like herself at all, and I'm worried that it's because of me. Perhaps I've over stayed my welcome? I try and push the thought from my head, repeating the words that Dr Lawrence has been drilling into me for my last few sessions. 'You are not a burden'. Still, it's possible to be a burden to someone when you take over their spare bedroom when there's no real end in sight.

"I'm going to go to Dr Lawrence then I have a shift at the bookstore so I won't be back until later" I say calmly, my voice seeming to give her a fright as she jumps slightly, her fingers clumsily fiddling with the milk bottle.

"Oh okay, I thought you didn't work on weekends?" She asks, her tone seems forced and unnatural, like she's trying to pretend things are okay.

"Inventory. Hey, is everything okay? You seem...off" I observe aloud. I'm not sure of what I mean really, I just know something isn't right with her. She spins around and braces her hands on the countertop behind her. Her head shakes back and forth telling me no before she sighs and rolls her eyes, scoffing at herself as she returns the bottle of milk into the fridge.

"No. I'm not ok, I'm pregnant" Her voice is deadpanned, almost croaked out in a whisper. My heart rate raises immediately. Oh god, this is not good. Or is it? Is she happy about this, did she plan this?

"Oh" Is all I manage to say, sinking into one of the chairs at the dining room table as Heather stirs her cup of tea. She stares down at its contents.

"How far along?" I ask. I've not heard any morning sickness from her, or really any of the usual signs.

"The doctor said it's around 5 or 6 weeks. I was late so I took a test, then I made a doctors appointment because I thought it was wrong. Turns out it wasn't" she lets out a wry laugh as she carries her cup of tea over to the table and sits herself down in the seat across from me.

"Is Brad the...?" I ask. She nods her head. Well fuck, that complicates things significantly. How do you have a baby with a married man who already has children of his own? Honestly Heather what the bloody hell were you thinking? I can't say any of this to her of course, she already knows I don't approve but the last thing she needs is for me to be a bitch when she's obviously struggling with this.

"Have you talked to him about it?" I ask her after a quiet moment.

"No. Haven't told anyone. I don't want to get anyone else involved before I decide how I feel about it" Heather replies quietly, taking a sip of her tea.

"Fuck" I whisper as I lean my back against the chair, sagging my weight against it.

"Tell me about it" Heather says with a small smile, that in turn makes me smile. Of course something like this was going to happen, when you invite mess into your life things get messy. And having an affair with a married father is quite the messy situation.

"You know I'm here, no matter what, no judgement" I tell her, reaching my hand out and giving hers a soft squeeze. I love Heather like a sister, and even though I don't approve of her life choices I'm never going to abandon her for it. She knows that, I just feel like she needs to hear it. And the smile that she gives me in response tells me it's news that she's happy to hear.

"Thank you babes. Now, get your ass to therapy" She laughs as she shoves my hand away, reminding me of my appointment. I'll have to run and catch the bus now if I want to make it on time. I miss being driven everywhere.

"You sure you'll be okay? I can reschedule" I offer but she shakes her head quickly.

"Nuh Uh, your therapy is an important part of your healing process and you are going. We can talk tomorrow" She says firmly as I stand, putting my bag on my shoulder.

"Alright then, we can talk tonight after I get back from work" I say, digging through my bag to make sure I have my keys.

"No you have that thing tonight. The club thing with your friends from work" She waves her hand as I make my way to the front door. The reminder stops me in my traps. I had completely forgotten, one of the new girls at the bookstore is having a birthday party at a club near the campus and invited us all to come. I gave her a maybe but Luke convinced me to go, so now I've committed to it. Despite the fact that I'll probably only know Luke and the other people from work.

"Ugh, I'll ditch that" I reply quickly.

"No no, this baby ruins my social life, not yours. You're going. I will be fine. We can talk about it all day while you nurse your hangover tomorrow" Heather says quickly. Of course that's her answer. When I told her I was going to go clubbing with some friends she looked like she could burst with joy, like I would finally start taking her up on her offers of hanging out with her friends on drunken nights out most weekends. Guess these roles have quickly reversed. I open my mouth to mumble out an excuse before Heather quickly speaks.

"You're going, don't even try it. Now hurry up, I'll talk to you later" she waves me off. I tell her to keep in touch with me throughout the day before I run out the door and begin descending down the staircase towards the lobby.

————————————————————————

I'm a bit of a sweaty mess by the time I sit down in Dr Lawrence's office, but I made it on time and that's all that matters.

"Hi Elena, how have things been since our last session?" Dr Lawrence sits before me, poised and ready to go with her pen and notes in hand.

"Pretty good actually. I um, I went up and saw my mum. We had a really good talk. I told her about Harry and about why it ended" I nod my head as she gives me a warm smile.

"And what was her reaction?" She asks, quickly scribbling something down. I hope she writes nice things about me. I'd hate to think about if her notes said things like 'boring hair' or 'won't stop talking'. I continue talking regardless.

"Well, we talked about why I don't open up to her about things that I feel might make her anxious or upset. And she said that she's in a really place and she wants me to know that I can always go and talk to her." I let out a small smile. Remembering the talk with my mum makes me feel quite warm and fuzzy. I truly feel a little bit lighter now that we've had that talk.

"Was that the outcome you were hoping for?" I nod in response.

"Yeah I think it was. I went into the conversation just hoping it wouldn't end in a disaster, so getting her to talk with me so openly and actually apologise for the past, it felt very healing. I mean, not that I needed her to apologise she was sick." I wince at my choice of words. I hate not feeling like I have the right words.

"Of course I know what you mean. She validated your feelings for you and that made you feel good" Dr Lawrence nods her head. Her words sound a lot better than mine do. She's right, my conversation with my mother made me feel like I had been understood and heard for the first time in a long time.

"Yeah exactly" I nod my head. She writes more notes. I'm not sure how therapy works, but I wonder if there's a way to get a hold of you own notes. Like when you complete a project at school and the teacher gives it back to you to keep.

"So what do you hope will change about your relationship moving forward" She goes back to asking her questions.

"I mean I'm cautiously optimistic that we can begin to have a more honest mother-daughter relationship. It would be great to call her up and just have a casual conversation about how I'm feeling and not have to worry about how it will affect her. I might try it soon" My mind flickers back to my conversation with Heather before I left the house. Pregnant, my friend is pregnant. I think I'm still in shock. If this is how I feel I can't even imagine how she's feeling. Probably nauseous.

"Something on your mind you want to speak to her about?" She furrows her brow slightly as she asks. It's almost scary how she picks up on things, I didn't realise my poker face was that bad. Am I allowed to talk about my friends pregnancy in therapy? Heather said she didn't want to tell anyone else until she decided how she felt, so I shouldn't. But Dr Lawrence doesn't know Heather, and if it's bothering me I should be able to talk to my therapist about it.

"Well, my best friend Heather just told me that she's pregnant, and it wasn't planned" I shrug my shoulders and lean my back against the armchair I'm currently sitting in. Dr Lawrence nods her head slowly, not taking her eyes on me but quickly writing on a different section of the page.

"Right. And how does that make you feel?" She asks, bringing it back to me. Well that's a big question.

"Honestly. I'm quite anxious" I let out a slight sigh. I feel guilty about being affected by her news but I am. Call me selfish. "I'm the only one she has told because she doesn't even know what she wants to do yet. She's not in a good stable relationship with the baby's father and she's just so young and full of life. She's like a sister to me and I want what's best for her, and I don't think that her having a baby is what's best for her. And I know she's scared no matter how hard she tries to hide it" I blurt it all out as Dr Lawrence listend patiently.

"So you don't think she's in the best place to be raising a child? Do you think that it's something you can be open with her about?" It sounds a little harsh when she says it, but she's basically just repeating back what I told her. I've tried to think about Heather as a mum and it's kind of hard to picture. Of course she's very loving and nurturing but she also is very unpredictable, spontaneous and has a tendency for self destruction.

"No, I mean, I think I've tried in a way. She's been with this guy for nearly a year and I've told her multiple times about how I don't think she should be doing what she's doing and she's not really listening. She says that she's happy with where their relationship is and she doesn't have any plans to change anything at the moment. And I feel like I'm stuck between these two places. On one hand; I feel like I would be a bad friend if I didn't tell her that I think she's making a mistake staying with him, like what kind of good friend sits back and watches their friend make bad choices? But on the other hand, she's heard me say it a hundred times and now she's at a point where she just needs me to be there for her. I don't have to approve of the relationship and her choices but I'm certainly not going to judge her for them" I ramble on and explain my thought process. I'm about to apologise for over talking until I remember where I am. Dr Lawrence nods patiently and processes my words before she speaks again.

"To me, it sounds like right now she needs your support. It's possible that she's feeling quite isolated and alone, and that all she needs right now is a friend to talk it out with. To not know how you feel about something this big must be a terrifying thing, I would advise you to be a safe place for her to talk through her thoughts and feelings with. If she asks for advice, give it to her but try to be delicate with your delivery."

"Yeah I think that's a good idea." I sigh happily with her response. That's what I felt like was the best thing that I could do for her. Glad to see I'm learning something after all.

"Has her situation perhaps got you thinking about what you want for your future?" Dr Lawrence flips the conversation, and suddenly we are back onto me. I shrug.

"A little bit" I say quietly. I don't want to be selfish in this kind of situation. But I can't help it. My friend is about to make maybe one of the biggest decisions in her life, it would be weird not to look at myself and think about how I would feel if the roles were reversed.

"Shall we talk about that?" She asks. She told me in the beginning that if I'm not comfortable talking about something then we don't need to talk about it. I have options here. But it doesn't seem like it will be a massive deal.

"Okay" I nod my head. Dr Lawrence clears her throat before she continues talking.

"Have you thought much about if you want those sorts of things in your future" Straight into it I guess.

"I never really considered it much in the past. I like kids, but I figured it would just be something that wasn't in the cards for me" I answer honestly, the volume of my words dropping slightly.

"How so?"

"I always thought I would just go to college, get my degree, move back home and get a job somewhere so that I can get my mum out of that facility and look after her" I tell her. When I say it out loud it sounds really sad. I guess I have never thought about it in much detail. I'm used to making sacrifices, to not getting what I want, this was just going to be another thing to add to the list.

"Not much time left for you in your future" Dr Lawrence observes.

"Are you surprised given our last sessions?" I reply sarcastically. Dr Lawrence lets out a slight laugh, flicking quickly through the previous pages of our sessions.

"Not really, you have a history of putting others before yourself" She says in response.

"But now I've been thinking differently. Last year my world sort of, opened up, and so did my thoughts about the future" I reply quickly, not wanting to sound pathetic for much longer. Things did start to change. At least I had hope that things would be different than how I thought it would be.

"What changed your mind? Was it your relationship with Harry?" She asks, answering her own question.

"I guess I had never considered that somebody would want to be with me in a romantic way. But then when we started dating I would sometimes find myself thinking about a possible future with him" I say, focusing my attention on one of the rips in my jeans near my knee cap. My skin has gone so pale over the winter, not that it gets much darker during the summertime anyway.

"What kind of future did you see?" She asks, drawing my attention back to our conversation

"I don't know, small things. Like I would worry about whether or not his family would like me because if they didn't like me then any future family occasions would be awful. Or I would worry that his job would stop him from spending time with us if we chose to have a family" I shrug my shoulders, feeling slightly juvenile as though I'm talking about a middle school crush and not an ex-boyfriend. Oh, ex-boyfriend, I don't like referring to him as that.

"Did you get along with his family?" Dr Lawrence asks. I let out a slight cough as a lump suddenly forms in my throat. I focus my eyes on the rip in my jeans again before I answer.

"Yeah I did. His mum is the kindest and most loving human being I've ever met, and his sister is so welcoming and kind. He has a lot of lovely family members and they all really welcomed me with open arms. I felt like I was a part of the family, and they told me I was" I recall the conversations I would have with Anne about how happy she was that I was with Harry, or the cheeky comments Gemma would make about her first Christmas having a sister. Harry would roll his eyes, but there was also a hint of a smile there.

I miss them. I miss Anne's warm smile and long hugs. I miss Gemmas cheeky laugh and our endless conversations. She must be due any day now. I hope she's okay. And little Charlie, I wonder how she feels about becoming a big sister. She probably doesn't even remember I exist. And that's okay, she's young and I've only met her a few times. I miss all of them. I hope they don't hate me.

"So is getting married and having children something that you want?" She asks me, drawing me back into the conversation at present.

"Well I don't know for sure if it is, but I never want it to not be a possibility. If that makes sense" I shrug.

"It does, so you two never discussed a future together?"

"Not really, we moved in together for a couple of weeks before I left so I knew we both wanted to be together. But we hadn't discussed marriage and kids. If he had told me he definitely didn't want that it would have really bothered me. I think I was maybe afraid that his answer would be no. But now I don't think it is" I explain quietly.

"How so?" The tone in her voice raises to one of curiosity.

"Well when I first met him he wasn't a family man, he didn't see them very much and he had a lot of issues with them. But he took me to meet them and they had me for Christmas and came for my birthday. And he told me the other day that he just spent two weeks away from work with his mum, he never would have done that when I first met him" I explain his turn around. It's so lovely to think about him spending lots of time in Manchester with his family. He's lucky to have them, and they're lucky to have him

"So you've talked to him" she lets a small grin spread across her face, but it falls slightly when I shake my head.

"Uh no, he calls me and leaves messages for me every once in a while" I admit quietly.

"Have you thought about answering the phone and talking to him?" Oh Dr Lawrence, you have no idea how hard it is to not answer the phone when it rings.

"I have, but I just don't know how. I mean obviously I know how to answer a phone, but I don't know what I would say. It's just- I love him, and I want to be with him. And I feel like if I talk to him without thinking through what I'll say then I'll say something stupid and screw it up. I want to talk to him. Everytime he leaves a message I listen to it over and over again. I know that I've hurt him and I don't want him to hurt anymore. I love him, and I truly miss him. I'm just scared of screwing it up" I try and explain my feelings towards talking to him. It's the fear that's holding me back, but I'm also scared of not talking to him and him moving on from me.

"So, you want to be with him?" She asks. I nod slowly.

"Yes. I do. Even though I know a future with him would be complicated and messy, our worlds don't exactly fit together perfectly but I like how we fit together regardless." I don't know how to explain why we work together, but we do.

"Want my advice?" Dr Lawrence asks with a small smile.

"Yes please" I say quickly. What kind of weirdo would go to therapy without actually asking for advice from their therapist?

"Stop hiding from the things that make you happy. You've made incredible progress during our sessions, but you need to fully embrace the things that you want in life. And I know it's scary, but it feels scary because it's important and it means a lot to you. If he makes you happy, then talk to him. Make that choice"

———————————————————————-

Dr Lawrence's words run through my head all day, but the alcohol in the glass in my hands is helping me forget them. It's a bit of a slow process, but eventually all that I can think about is how ridiculous I must look dancing and how much I cannot breathe in this tight dress. I've borrowed it from Heather, and it took her around ten minutes to lace together all of the small ties at the back of it to get me in it. I haven't got a clue as to how I will take it off when I eventually make it home, I can't exactly wake Heather up to get her assistance.

"Earth to Elena?" Luke's voice booms close to my ear bringing me out of my worries and into the present. I'm standing at a table with a bunch of people I don't really know but who I've been dancing with for the last two hours. Luke's the only person that I comfortably know so it's good he's stuck by my side for most of the night. He chuckles as I blink a few times, my body suddenly readjusting to the crazy flashing lights.

"You looked like you were off in fairyland" His voice is soft and I can barely hear it, but what I certainly do feel is his hand resting on the small of my back. It sends an uncomfortable shiver up my spine, even though I'm fairly sure it's just a 'let me help you stay standing my tipsy friend' touch.

"Yeah I guess I was" I half laugh as I take a sip of my drink, trying to hear what the other people around us are animatedly discussing.

"Want to go have a dance?" Luke asks me, gesturing his head over to the dance floor. I shake my head before he lets out a relaxed scoff. "Oh come on, it will be fun"

"No I'm quite tired, and my feet hurt" I complain, trying to remain cheerful and smiling. Luke's never made me feel uncomfortable, but this situation combined with the alcohol flowing through me isn't adding up to anything good.

"Then how about another drink?" He offers.

"No, no I think I've had enough" I nod my head as I refuse. I don't want anything more to drink, and I don't want him to get me another drink.

"Come on liven up, let's have a good time" He takes a small side step closer towards me and the hand that was resting on the small of my back moves to my hip, pulling my body gently against him. No, no thank you.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom. Then we can dance some more" I say to him and wriggle our of his grasp. He gives me a grin before his face disappears into the crowd while I weave my way towards the toilets. He's not gonna leave me alone, I get that he doesn't really know anyone else in this group but does he need to be all over me like a bad rash?

Have I been leading him on? In my mind he is firmly placed in the friend zone with no hope of a rescue, but maybe I haven't made it clear with him. I don't flirt, like at all, got no clue how. We haven't been dancing together, so I haven't been dancing provocatively or suggestively around him. I'm pretty sure he heard me talking to one of the girls about how I'm not looking to get into a relationship. Does he think I'm into him, or is the alcohol making me really paranoid.

Whatever it is, I'm not really up for finding out. With one look over my shoulder, I push my way through a large cluster of people and leave through the large double doors. There's a long line of people waiting to be let in, one of them can go dance with Luke.

A little ways up the street is a cab rank and I climb into the backseat of the one in front.

"Where to darlin?" A nice older man with a bald head asks as I settle into the leather seats.

"Home" I mumble. "Take me Home please"

"Uh, love I don't know where your home is, where's home?" Is voice is hoarse and thick as he asks me. Oh of course, this isn't an Uber I have to give him the address.

I recall the number of Heathers apartment and I'm about to tell him when I stop and think about it. My home. That place isn't my home. It's where my stuff is, and where I sleep. But it's not home, it never has been home. There's somewhere else I want to be, someone else I call home. And I want to go home.

"The Arcadia Hotel please" I tell him, pulling my seatbelt on.