It is the next morning after a Boxing Day breakfast of leftover fruit and pastries that Maura resumes her treatment.

"Welcome back," her therapist greeted her warmly. "Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"I did," Maura smiled as she sat on the sofa opposite the clinician. She slipped her loafers off and brought her denim clad legs up and under her to sit criss cross. "My parents and I didn't always spend Christmas together when I was growing up, and when we did it was very formal. Then when I moved to Boston we spent even fewer holidays together."

"And was yesterday different than years past?"

Maura nodded.

"It was exactly how I dreamed it would be as a child," she explained. "Colourful decorations and wrapping paper thrown around the room and stockings by the fireplace. It's taken us quite a while to get there, but my parents and I are finally healing from the years of distance between us."

"I'm glad to hear that," Lucy replied.

"There's still quite a lot of healing to do," Maura admitted, running her hands along her green cashmere sweater. "But I think, for both my parents and I, that my time here has sort of forced us to heal and move closer towards a healthy relationship."

"Sometimes it takes a really, really giant push like a mental illness to get folks to realise it's time to heal," Lucy noted.

"Mmhmm," Maura hummed.

"So, I wanted to focus today on your goals for outpatient treatment," Lucy said after a few moments of watching Maura contemplate. "I'm going to try and make it less stressful than your goal setting for residential treatment but we do still need to be asking the tough questions."

"Of course. I understand," Maura responded. "I feel I'm in a much better place than where I was when I had my outburst so I'm sure this will be much less painful than that session was."

"We never want to cause you pain," Lucy noted before opening up a file and clicking her pen. "So, your goal when you first joined us was 'get better for Jane.' Before we create new goals I want to reflect on how you feel you've progressed on that goal."

"Honestly?" Maura said, looking down at the hands in her lap. "I don't think I'm there yet. I'm closer, but close doesn't really mean anything."

"It certainly does mean something," Lucy corrected. "The reason we wanted you to have multiple goals that were measurable was to avoid the pitfall of 'Oh, I had one goal and didn't even achieve that.'"

"I know," Maura sighed.

"But let's focus on the present and the positive. You say you feel closer to that goal. What sorts of things make you feel like you're closer to being better for Jane?"

"I don't feel like I'm drowning anymore," Maura said simply. "Before I came here, there were multiple times a day where the depression caused a visceral reaction in me physically and I genuinely felt as though I was trapped under hundreds of feet of water. But now I feel more like…Like I'm treading water."

"So you're still in the water, but safer?"

"Yes," Maura confirmed. "I'm exhausted at the end of the day from trying to keep myself afloat but the exhaustion is far preferable to drowning."

"I agree with you there," Lucy chuckled. "I think that is actually an incredible amount of progress for the, what? 2 weeks you were here. So let's not discredit any of that progress."

"I don't. Although I wish I'd made more progress, I'm able to recognize the progress I have made."

"And I think that in and of itself is a sign of progress," Lucy said. "Being able to reflect clearly is definitely one of the things we look for when measuring patient progress."

"It feels good to be able to think clearly again," Maura smiled softly.

"I bet it does," Lucy smiled back. "What do you think helped you make that progress? If we know what helped you go from drowning to treading water then I think we'll be able to get you from treading water to solid ground."

"Jane gets me on solid ground," Maura said softly. "But to answer your question, I think a lot of things helped. I think Fluoxetine was the right choice and boosted me closer to the surface. Having many outlets to explore the depression that I tried so hard to compartmentalise has absolutely been helpful."

"I made sure your daily schedule always had something like art therapy or yoga because I think we all saw how well you responded to those groups," Lucy noted. "Sometimes for intellectuals like ourselves, it isn't until we're thrust into something completely opposite of our intellectual side that we truly make progress."

"Thank you for arranging that," Maura smiled.

"Anything else that's helped?"

"Time. And distance. Which I know aren't very treatment oriented answers," Maura answered. "But just being given the time to come to terms with this diagnosis and work through it without also having to juggle ten other spinning plates in the air."

"Time is one of the most crucial factors in recovery," Lucy noted.

"I just wish I could point to more specific things that have helped."

"Don't even worry about it," Lucy smiled. "I'm a firm believer that any answer to any question is a step in the right direction. And speaking of direction," she laughed, "let's start thinking about what your goals for outpatient treatment will be. If you have your treatment notebook, you can start jotting them down in there if you prefer."

Nodding, Maura pulled the spiral bound notebook she had been filling in since her arrival to the facility and turned to a fresh sheet. The symbolism wasn't lost on her as she stared at the blank page before her. She uncapped her pen and laid it to rest at the top of the page.

"While you write, I'll go make us a cup of tea."

Left alone in the silence, Maura inhaled deeply and began to write.

Develop a return to work plan

Resume daily yoga/Pilates

Learn a new artistic hobby

Reduce days with crying spells

Take medications every day, eat every meal, and sleep 7-9 hours a night

"I hope peppermint tea is okay."

Maura looked up from her notebook to see Lucy walking in with a large steaming mug in each of her hands.

"That's lovely," Maura smiled as she set her notebook beside her and accepted the mug. "Thank you."

"I also snagged us the last of the cookies," the therapist laughed as she handed Maura a small packet of cookies. "We have plenty more in the back kitchen, so don't feel guilty taking them."

Maura chuckled as she brought the mug to her lips and blew gently, the steam rising to tickle her face.

"Looks like you have some goals written for us."

Nodding, Maura took a tentative sip of her tea while handing the notebook off to the clinician sitting opposite of her.

Lucy accepted the notebook and read the 5 goals written on the page. She took her own pen and made a few quick notes before looking up and watching Maura. For the first time since the blonde began her treatment, Lucy noticed Maura's shoulders were relaxed and there was an ease to her movements as she dunked a shortbread biscuit into her tea before biting into it.

"Sorry," Maura said, covering her mouth as she spoke when she realised she was being watched.

"You don't have to apologise," Lucy smiled. "It's actually quite a relief to see you looking as relaxed as you do now. Quite a sizeable change from when you first arrived."

Maura felt her cheeks flush at the compliment, and could only offer a smile in response.

"I think you have a really solid handful of goals here," Lucy complimented as she placed Maura's notebook on the table in between them. "I just jotted down a few little bits in the margins but they're solid. Really proud of them."

"Thank you."

"Can I make one observation about your goals?"

"Of course."

"Not one of them mentions Jane."

Maura's eyes darted to the paper in between the two women and, re-reading what she had written just minutes earlier, the blonde realised she had in fact omitted all mention of Jane.

"Oh," Maura whispered. "I hadn't realised…"

"You look like that's caught you a bit off guard," Lucy said gently.

"It has," Maura confirmed. "I know the importance of setting goals independent of others and not basing my recovery on others, so knowing I've reached that point in treatment where I can do that is reassuring. But at the same time…" the blonde trailed off.

"At the same time…?"

"I'm not sure," Maura admitted as she looked up at her therapist.

Suddenly the constant sensation of being rocked mercilessly in a capsized boat that had plagued her mind for months travelled down into her stomach. Maura closed her eyes and tried to breathe through her nose, willing the queasiness to settle.

"Maura?" Lucy asked, scooting to the edge of her chair while reaching for the alarm button installed in the office.

"If you'll excuse me," Maura breathed as she felt saliva begin to pool in her mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Your mother tells me you had a tough day."

Maura lifted her head from the pillow as her father made his way into the living room where Maura had built a fire and made herself comfortable after returning home that afternoon. Despite the waves of nausea that crashed into her earlier that day that resulted in her dry heaving in the bathroom stalls, Maura had refused to leave the facility.

So, with a quick swallow of an anti-nausea tablet and swish of mouthwash, Maura completed her first day back.

"Just a bit of nausea," Maura shrugged as she pushed herself to sit up and make room for her father.

"You should have called me," Arthur said as he sat next to his daughter. "I would have come picked you up. Riding the metro with an upset stomach doesn't sound like an ideal time."

"I'm fine," Maura insisted. "Really. By the time my day ended I was feeling fine. Besides, you know I've always loved the metro."

"I know," the man smiled. "I made a pot of chicken noodle soup while you rested. Would you like a bowl?"

Maura nodded.

"Coming right up," Arthur smiled.

Watching her father disappear into the kitchen, Maura rose from the couch and added a log to the fire. She busied herself tending to the flames, her cheeks bright red from the warmth, until her father returned with a tray.

"Thank you," Maura murmured as she gratefully accepted the tray.

"Would you like to talk?" Arthur asked, watching as his daughter sat on the couch and slowly began to eat her soup.

"I didn't think about Jane today," Maura admitted, never taking her eyes from the bowl at her lap. "I was creating goals for myself and not one of them had anything to do with her."

"Does that not mean you're thinking of and putting yourself first?"

"I don't know," Maura sighed. "I mean, it does mean that. But at the moment when Lucy pointed out to me that I hadn't mentioned her at all…" the blonde trailed off. "It caught me off guard."

"I think Jane would be proud of you for putting all of your energy into yourself," Arthur noted.

With a soft sniffle, Maura used the hem of her sweater to wipe a tear from her face.

"Oh, darling," Arthur soothed. He gently picked up the tray of food from his daughter's lap and placed it on the side table before taking one of Maura's hands in between his own. "Why the tears?"

"I'm scared," Maura admitted as she looked away from the fireplace and towards her father. "It's taken me two weeks to forget about Jane. What if she's forgotten about me?"

Opening his arms, Arthur beckoned his daughter into an embrace.

"You haven't forgotten about Jane," Arthur said softly. "And I can guarantee she hasn't forgotten about you. I would bet good money that, as we speak, she has snuck into your office to have her lunch break and will be making herself at home on your couch as soon as the day ends."

"It's selfish of me to expect her to put her life on hold and wait for me," Maura berated herself.

"I think Jane would put her life on hold and wait for you even if you explicitly told her not to," Arthur laughed. "She will, forever and always, put you first."

"And yet here I am not putting her first."

"Nonsense," Arthur chided. "You listen to me. Jane has not forgotten about you and she never will. You are not at fault for putting yourself and your goals as priority. Nothing about what you are doing is selfish and, even if it were, Jane would be a fool not to understand. I promise you, my love. As soon as you give her the go ahead, your Jane will rush here and the both of you will begin your lives together."

"I wish I had your confidence," Maura whispered, pulling away from her father's embrace to wipe at her eyes.

"It's a blessing and a curse," her father smiled. "Now, what do you say we head out to the stables and go for a ride?"