I brushed the tear off my cheek angrily, feelingly increasingly frustrated with myself with each passing second. How was it possible that I already felt so upset? I'd only been delving into the past for a short while for crying out loud! I suppose it was because I knew where this story ended, and everything that I would unleash by doing this. But that wasn't enough to stop me, not now... not when I'd already gotten so far in.

"No, no," I muttered to myself, standing upright. "Not today."

I was so unsettled by everything that this had made me think about already, and I knew that it was only going to get worse the more I continued on. Looking back at what I once had with Joe was going to make me question every aspect of my current life—not only what I had with Danny—and there was no way that I was emotionally equipped to do all of that in one day. I needed to pack it all away and come back to it at some other time, before it drove me insane.

I sighed deeply, feeling a cold sense of relief flood through me at the idea that I was done with it for the day. Then, knowing that I couldn't just leave it all in the attic now, I grabbed each and every one of the boxes, and pulled them downstairs ready for when I felt mentally prepared to start again. I made a mess all over the living room floor, but that really didn't matter. After all, it would only be me here for the next few months. This wouldn't impact on Danny while he was away on tour.

Maybe once I was done with it all, when I'd looked through it, I would be able to just chuck it out and continue on with my life without these memories haunting me, waiting to spill out and threaten what I already had at any given moment. With it downstairs, that would be much easier to do.

Maybe...

Or maybe not. Who knew where this journey was going to take me.

By the time I clambered into bed, exhaustion quickly consumed me and I all but blacked out the second my head hit the pillow, collapsing into a deep and restless sleep.

                               ***

I honestly expected to feel better by the time morning rolled around, so it was a little shock to wake up still sickly and feeing like crap—emotionally and physically. It didn't help that I hadn't slept well. Nightmares of the past had plagued me all night, and now I was more torn up about it than ever.

As my feet hit the bedroom floor, I felt a weird surge of energy burst through me, getting me moving. I couldn't sit around and mope today, working myself up over something that was realistically no longer a part of my life. I actually had some weekend plans that I really couldn't cancel—a meeting with my mother. Sure, it was only going to be an awkward coffee, like we did every single month, but if I was focused on my strained relationship with my mum, then I couldn't be worrying about anything else.

Urgh God... suddenly the thought of the weirdness with my mum was a little overwhelming, so I sent a message to Cici. If I had something to do with my best friend afterwards, then I could get through it. I could suffer it all if I had something else to look forward to.

'Hey Cici, fancy going out for drinks later? Xxx'

I was pretty sure that she would already have plans anyway—the social butterfly that she was—so it wasn't at all unexpected when she quickly shot back telling me to meet her at a bar at eight pm.

"Okay," I nodded to myself, trying to steel myself for what I needed to do today. "You can do this." I was perfectly aware that whispering to myself like a crazy person, but it was all I could do to sort myself out. "Just... get in the shower. Just get through this."

As I stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to steam over me, my mind drifted off to another problem that I hadn't yet considered. My mum might not know about the potential engagement just yet, by Cici certainly did, and if Gabby (Baz's girlfriend) was out with her like she normally was, then it was very likely that I would have to suffer squeals and excitement about wedding that I honestly sure wasn't going to happen. If me and Danny actually made it down the aisle, then we would be the first out of our friendship group, so it would be a level of madness that I was nowhere near equipped to deal with.

Maybe contacting Cici wasn't the smartest move after all, but neither was sitting between these four walls slowly going insane.

I padded across the apartment, naked and wet, not even bothering to grab a towel. Sometimes I got so used to be in our home alone that I forgot it wasn't just mine. The more popular Jax became, the less I saw of my boyfriend, which left me mostly to my own company. Generally, I liked that, it suited me just fine. But at the moment it was like torture—the silence was painful, and allowing my brain to wander into dark places I probably should avoid.

I opened the wardrobe to look at my meagre clothing selection, remembering the words that Danny spoke to me when we first moved in together:

"You know, my money is yours too. If you want to buy yourself some new stuff to wear, I really don't mind."

Looking back at it now, he probably thought that he was being kind, but in the heat of the moment I flipped, and a massive argument ensued. Sure, I was much more comfortable in plain tees and skinny jeans than anything else, which probably made me look really boring, but that was me. I didn't like feeling like I had to defend myself and the way that I looked to someone who had never seemed to have a problem with it before.

I yelled that he must have been embarrassed by me, and that he wanted me to dress sluttier like Gabby and Craig's random skanks, which made him backtrack very rapidly. Maybe I wasn't so much hurt by his words, but he hit a nerve that I knew was the truth. Maybe that could explain my over the top reaction to a conversation that never happened again. Whatever the case, I didn't take him up on his offer, and I've continued to dress the same in defiance, just to be stubborn.

However, as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, looking at my long red hair tied back, and my makeup free face, combined with a baby blue tee, black skinny jeans and trainers, I suddenly didn't feel quite so settled. I wasn't quite sure what the issue was, but I needed to do something to change it. I tugged my hair out quickly, watching it spill down my back, then I shook my head sharply, feeling that would have to do. It was only one tiny change, one small step out of my comfort zone, but to me or felt colossal, and I needed to get out of the house quickly before I changed my mind.

I stalked outside and made my way down the street to the coffee shop where I would be meeting my mum, thinking only of her. This wouldn't be a fun catch up, like I was sure most mother and daughter's had, but there was nothing that I could do to change that. Not now, it was far too late . Too much had happened, too much had been destroyed, and it was beyond fixing.

This, what we currently had, was as good as it was going to get. I had mostly accepted that, but every so often it did make me sad, thinking of how it could have been if things were different.

At least she wouldn't be with Malcolm—that would make things a million times worse. He hated me, and the feeling was mutual. If I really looked at it (which I tried hard not to) then it wasn't so much him that was the problem, it was the timing of their relationship. He came into her life when I really needed her, and I'd done nothing but resent him ever since. My subsequent behaviour caused him not to like me either, and in the end we just stopped seeing one another.

After almost five years of them being together, I really should have adjusted to it, but I wasn't quite there yet and I didn't think I ever would be. It was much better for everyone if my relationship with mum was kept separate from them. It allowed everything to move along in the only way that it could.

I sighed deeply, focusing on my shoes for a few seconds, before taking that next step and pushing the door open to step inside. There I found my mother, already waiting for me. She was sitting up dead straight in her seat, with her skirt draped pristinely over her legs and her very boring, very beige cardigan wrapped tightly around her. As I continued to walk towards her, I had to physically bite my lip to keep all that I wanted to say inside.

I despised seeing her dressed like that because it was Malcolm's version of her. The mum that I knew, the mum that I actually felt close to, was more comfortable in her bohemian style of clothing. I always considered her a hippy, and I loved that version of mum. She worked hard to give us a life, but as soon as we became settled, her attitude towards everything became much more laid back—and I loved that. It gave me the freedom I needed to grow up, but I always knew that she would be there if I needed her.

Now, I wasn't so sure.

"Hi mum," I grinned a fake smile in her direction, wondering what she would say if I started telling her about my current problems. How would she feel if told her that I wasn't sure if I wanted to get married, and the reason behind that was Joe? Would she listen and actually be understanding, or would she brush over it as if it were nothing?

The knowledge that it certainly wouldn't be the first option was enough to have me keeping it all inside.

I felt bad that all the time she would have listened to me, I blew her off in my arrogant teenage no one understands me way, because now that I actually needed her she wouldn't give me anything.

"I brought you a latte," she replied, through thin, pursed lips. I nodded, not liking to tell her that I didn't actually really like coffee. I drank it, because it made me look more like an adult, but if I were given the choice I would choose milkshake or hot chocolate. I took a tentative sip, whilst looking at her through my eyelashes, wondering where this meeting would take us. "So... how are you?"

"Fine," I answered blandly, overriding all of my currently life chaos. "How about you?"

She droned on about the estate agent business that she ran with Malcolm before dipping into what sounded like an incredibly dull trip to the Cotswolds. I nodded and made agreeable noises where needed, but mostly I tuned her out and I allowed my mind to wander, until she shot a question to me that had me stunned.

"So, how are things with...Danny?" It was almost painful for her to say his name, I could see it in her eyes, which proved how few times she'd actually asked about him. I wasn't sure why she never really talked about him, she had never actively protested against us being together, so I just allowed her to continue on in her weird ways, burying her head in the sand against real life. I suppose I could have asked, but by the time he became enough of a permanent feature in my life to involve her, we were already on this weird knife edge balance where we never said anything in fear of disrupting the status quo.

Maybe she didn't like him because he was a rock star, maybe it was because she didn't know him very well, or maybe it was because he wasn't Joe. Whatever it was, it was bizarre to hear her speak his name. In the three years that we'd been together, they had kind of met a handful of times, but it had become so awkward that I made the active choice to keep them apart. Luckily, Danny was so busy that he didn't actually notice, making it much easier for me to separate my life into categories.

"Erm... yeah, he's fine," I told her with a curious look on my face. "He's on tour at the moment..."

Ring, ring.

Before I could get too into detail about my boyfriend, her phone basted out, and from the look on her face as she glanced at the screen, I could already tell that it was Malcolm on the other end. That would quickly kibosh our catch up as she would leave right away to see him in the way that she always did. He would say 'jump' and she would ask 'how high'. I was so used to it by now that I never even bothered to dispute it. Instead, I slumped back into my seat, mentally preparing the rest of the day in the scary knowledge that I almost had something of an honest conversation with my mother...