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Max shuffles her in his lap, fitting his chest flush to her back as he tucks his chin on her shoulder. “Honeybee, talk to us?”

“Why does everyone want me to talk?” she deflects, a little bite crawling through her words as her shoulders tense.

Noah leans in, lifting her chin. “Because we want to be here for you, and getting things out rather than holding it all in might help.”

Rosy wriggles off Max, dropping both my and Noah’s hands in the process.

“You want all my thoughts out in the open? Every sordid memory where I can still feel his touch on me and hear his cruel words? How he made me crawl on the floor for him? How I did it? I did it because I was too scared to be punished. I was too scared he’d keep hurting me. So I let him do what he wanted. I followed his orders. It doesn’t matter how many days it’s been, the memories are still there all the time. It doesn’t matter how many times I wash, I can’t feel clean,” she seethes. An angry red flush climbs up her neck, and her hands shake as she holds them up to us.

“And I can’t even leave here and get back to my life. I’m petrified all the time, and I hate it. I want my life back. I want me back,” she croaks. Her anger vanishes as quickly as it came, and her knees buckle.

Max swoops in to catch her, tugging her to his chest as he hits the floor first. “No, honeybee. You’re still you, and every shitty, terrifying, dark thought you have is okay. Whether you like them or not, those thoughts are there. You shouldn’t hold them in. We’re going to be here always, and if it helps to talk it out, then lay it on us. We’ve got the muscles to carry any weight you need us to. Well, maybe Noah and Bry less so. But Nate benches enough to even it out,” he says, nuzzling into her neck.

Noah’s eyes narrow, but his expression softens when Rosy snorts.

“I’m not sure that’s how I’d put it, but his sentiment’s right. We’ve promised we want to be here, and nothing you’ve said has made any of us want to leave,” Noah adds, offering her a smile.

“Plus, things are going to take time. No one expects you to not be scared, to just walk out of here and get on with things like nothing happened. We’re all happy to go at the pace you need, and to follow what you need,” I reassure her, hating that she’s put so much pressure on herself.

“It’s like I’m split in two,” she whispers. “A part of me wants to shake things off and just go back to my life. The other part remembers every bit of it, and I’m paralysed with a fear so strong it makes me want to hide away. Each part seems to take over at different times. This morning I was excited to go to the farm, and I had happy moments when we were there. Then the fearful Rosy pushed through, and all I could think was that I needed to go home. I needed to hide away and protect myself. It’s not like I can even prepare myself for this either. I never know what part of me is going to dominate in each moment,” she confesses.

My legs give out, and I thud to my knees next to her. I pull her from Max and onto my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist so I can hug her tightly.

“That sounds exhausting. I’m sorry you have to feel all of that,” I whisper, squeezing her to me tightly. “None of us know the right thing to say or do to help you, but we’re with you no matter what. Although Logan’s right. Maybe talking to someone could help in some way.”

The sigh Rosy releases is drawn out, her body giving up on the battle as she nods. “Yeah, okay. I’ll contact my old therapist and see if she can see me.”

“That sounds like a good plan, and if after the first session you don’t want to continue, then you can decide not to,” Noah adds and brushes the backs of his fingers across her cheek.

A brief silence settles between us. We’re all lost a little in our thoughts until I say, “What do you fancy for dinner?”

“Yes, dinner. I’m starving,” Max groans, dropping his forehead dramatically onto Rosy’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t asking you,” I quip.

I pull Rosy in tighter, then shove Max backwards. He flops back, lying across the floor dramatically.

“What would you like?” I kiss the tip of her nose, trying to ignore my accelerated heart rate as our gazes lock.

I’m never going to get used to how beautiful she is.

“Rosy loves me enough that we’re pretty much in sync. We’re in the mood for pizza, maybe a stuffed crust.” Max groans, most likely picturing the food and nothing else.

One track mind.

Her mouth twitches, breath hitching before she says, “Pasta.”

“What?!” Max exclaims. “No, no. Concentrate, honeybee. You meant pizza and just mixed them up. Understandable, both begin with ‘p’ and are five-letter words. Starvation can do that to you. Trust me. I’ve been there.”

I watch as her lip disappears between her teeth, a cute nibble before she replies, “Pasta.”

Rosy squeals as Max reaches round and cups her cheeks, smooshing them together until she looks a little like a fish.

“Piiiizzzaaa,” he enunciates slowly, pushing her cheeks to make it look like she’s miming along with him.

Rosy elbows him in the stomach and pushes his arm away, giggling. “Fine, how about a compromise? Pasta with a side of garlic bread pizza?”

She raises a brow in question at me, and I nod.