"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.
YOU ARE READING
The Secrets She Kept
General FictionEvelyn and Rosie had always been close. They were not just mother and daughter; they were best friends. At least, they were until disease stole away the woman Evelyn had once been. After an incident forces Rosie's hand, she soon comes to realise the...
