Piper's racing thoughts were growing so bad that she feared she was going to spiral. Xanax hadn't been enough to calm the pounding in her chest, the worries on her mind. When she began to grow lightheaded from hyperventilating, she finally decided to pull over on the side of the highway.

Piper's mental health had been on a serious decline since leaving litchfield. While it hadn't always been the greatest, her sanity was deteriorating faster than she could have imagined.

It started with the loneliness. Piper had spent fifteen months sleeping in a room full of fifty different inmates. Their coughing, snoring, tossing, and turning had been extremely irritating at the time, but she had grown to miss it in her silent room, not a single person within fifty feet. The sounds of the city were sometimes enough to calm her, but the quietness felt so empty, so lonely.

Before Litchfield, she had spent her days with Larry; curled up next to him in bed at night. Now, the only human interaction that Piper had were phone calls to her wife in prison, and the very few hours she spent working at her local Starbucks. It wasn't enough to keep her going, and some days she didn't know if she'd be able to.

Everything seemed to pile on top of each other. The countless rejections from every job she applied to, the harshness of her disappointed parents, the longing for her wife to be beside her. Days were filled with panic attacks and breakdowns; only to be silenced by the sweet relief of her xanax.

It took a lot for her to admit to her doctor how broken she felt, but life after prison had been rough on her. Sadly, she knew that she was privileged. Other inmates, even her friends, would have a far more difficult time on the outside than she had.

She was blessed enough to receive a car from her parents, to be offered a place to stay with Cal until she got on her feet, to get the job at Starbucks despite being a registered felon. She knew that, and she was grateful, but her mind wasn't kind to her most days.

Therapy was helping, her cocktail of medications were enough for her to make it through the day, but sometimes she couldn't stop herself from worrying.

"Get a fucking grip!" Piper said, slamming her palm against the steering wheel. She ran her hand back through her tangled hair, before angrily rubbing her temples in an attempt to calm the racing thoughts.

When she'd left her father's, she had sounded so incredibly sure of the fact that Alex was the only one she wanted forever. Most of the time, she was sure of that. It was in Piper's nature to worry, though; to overthink.

The woman quickly popped a second xanax into her mouth, and downed it with a sip of the now room-temperature water. "You love Alex." she said to herself, slightly embarrassed to be talking out loud. "You love her more than anything."

Piper groaned and ripped off her seatbelt, feeling as though it was trapping her in. "What if four years is too long to wait?" she asked, shaking her head quickly. "What if something happens and she gets more time?"

Really, Piper was weighing her options. While she was desperately in love with Alex, they had been through a great deal of trauma together, and Alex had hurt her.

Maybe she'd only taken her back in prison because it felt familiar; safe even. Alex was the only person she had from the outside. Maybe she needed that shred of familiarity.

Piper hadn't been with many people since Alex. Alex Vause had always been on her mind, even while engaged and drunk on the bathroom floor. Maybe it wasn't that she and Alex were perfect for each other, maybe it was that Piper hadn't tried anyone else.

Piper let a tear roll down her cheek, not even pausing to wipe it. She felt like her world was collapsing around her. She was lonely, desperate for someone's touch, desperate for a nice meal with a friendly face.

Reluctantly, Piper slipped her phone out of her pocket. She scrolled through her contacts, her hands shaking, and stopped at Bill Chapman.

It doesn't hurt to have lunch with someone Piper thought to herself, hovering over the icon. She could just be a friend, yknow? I could use a friend.

Piper allowed herself to press down on the call button, the anxious thoughts still racing through her mind. Surely, there was no harm in making a new friend; but inside Piper knew that this step meant more than that. Her father was trying to set her up, and here she was, a married woman, calling to follow up on that offer. Nothing in her had been interested in anyone else since Stella. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind once.

But, her father had planted a seed inside of her that was causing her to wonder. Was their relationship still worth it, and could she spend years more feeling as lonely as she did?

"Dad, hi, uh." Piper began anxiously, unable to even catch her breath, "Look, i'm sorry for the way I spoke to you. You have to understand that Alex is somebody I love. But, if it would make you happy, maybe I could I have lunch with this girl or something? As friends."

She was sure to make the last part very clear. If something happened between them that was one thing, but willingly seeking a new relationship sounded disgusting.

Seconds later, the contact was shared between them. Piper let her eyes scan over it, studying it for a while. Zelda she smirked, glossing over the contact photo he had chosen. Piper was sure Bill had picked the photo specifically for her, just to pique her interest. She let out a chuckle at the name. It was familiar to her from all the hours of video games Cal had forced her to watch growing up.

Butterflies quickly filled her stomach, a faint smile growing across her lips. This felt sickly nice, which was horrifying to her, but she let her roaming thoughts dissipate into the farthest part of her mind as she sent her a quick text.

Hey Zelda!
My dad gave me your number. I was thinking maybe we could do lunch?

Without hesitation, the blonde pressed send. Jumping into it rather quickly, without a second thought. This felt nice, and that was the scariest thing of all. Could she really betray Alex like this?