Author's Note: Hey guys - sorry I've been gone so long. I felt really discouraged after posting the last chapter since I got basically no reviews. I didn't know how you guys felt about the turn the story had taken and I felt like that was a really pivotal moment and I really wanted to see your reactions to that. I know authors always say that reviews are great and stuff like that, but (at least for me) they really provide a great amount of feedback and understanding of what the reader wants to see and doesn't want to see. So without that feedback, writing turned into pulling teeth. I've been working on this chapter for weeks now and I still feel unsure about it. It ends kind of unnaturally but I felt like it really needed to end there - the next chapter is going to be a hard one to write, and I really needed this chapter to juxtapose Naomi and Emily's lives at the moment.

Thanks to those of you who did review and to those of you who have stuck with me from the beginning with this story. It's coming to an end soon and I'm really grateful that you've all stuck with me on this one.

Chapter 28: Growth

Naomi

Just as I'd planned, I went back to the apartment with my mum to get my things two full days after I'd left Emily. That same day, I moved back in with my mum since there was fuck all space at Cook's. I knew I was cramping his style; he couldn't exactly bring any of his conquests home since he had a hysterical lesbian who wouldn't stop crying staying in his flat.

Moving back in with mum was a good decision, I suppose. She takes care of me and helps me with laundry and makes me plenty of cups of tea. The house is quiet during the day when Kieran's at work, leaving me in peace to write my articles, and at night mum and Kieran would usually go out and I'd have the house to myself. It was peaceful and really rather wonderful to be taken care of again. I had already decided that during this time apart from Emily, I would be completely selfish. I needed to reintroduce myself to who I was. Being in a codependent relationship and putting other people's needs before your own made it easy for you to lose sight of your own goals and wants and needs. So I was being selfish and getting to know Naomi again. Hopefully it would be for the better in the long-run.

Effy was keeping me updated on how Emily was doing, just as she'd promised. From the sounds of it, she wasn't any better. She was still insisting on going through with the extraction until she left for Paris. Katie and Effy were at a loss at how to deal with Emily and were planning to stage some sort of intervention. The day of Emily's departure for Paris, also known as D Day, was quickly approaching and I felt overwhelmed and unsure about how to deal with that. I hadn't spoken to Emily and she hadn't tried to contact me, so I figured I should just leave things be and let everything (hopefully) sort itself out.

I went to London for work just as my boss had requested. Work was becoming tedious and boring – I was getting tired of interviewing crappy politicians and trying to figure out why they were so crappy. I was tired of going to war-torn countries, which was happening far too often now that the Arab Spring was happening. I didn't know anybody else who had to worry about whether they remembered to put on their fake wedding band before leaving for the Middle East or putting fake photos of children in their purse so they could try to get potential kidnappers to sympathize with them. Maybe I was finally starting to settle down and this type of job had lost its appeal to me. It made sense, really. Nobody else that I worked with was my age and still doing this kind of work – they were all still young, most of them fresh out of university. I wasn't getting any younger and I found myself frequently looking to the future and seeing myself possibly married with a dog and kids and maybe even a house. It was a far cry from the person I used to be. But after Emily, I knew that commitment-phobic Naomi was no more, probably never to be seen again. And what was scarier was that I was alright with it.

I began interviewing for other jobs, and had been offered quite a few prestigious positions – a few from magazines, a few from newspapers, and even one from a TV News company, all based in London. One of them had been so keen that they offered to let me work mostly from Bristol and only come in to London for important meetings. Knowing that I was wanted by so many different employers gave me a surge of confidence, which was something I hadn't felt since Emily and I had broken up. I was still deciding which offer to accept – each one had its own pros and cons. I knew that the newspaper that offered to let me stay in Bristol was probably the most logical choice, seeing as I could move back in with Effy and Katie after Emily moved to Paris and I wouldn't have to sell my share in the flat to someone else so I could afford to move to London. But for some reason, I really felt like I needed a new start. I'd already decided I wasn't going to wait around for Emily's decisions to dictate what was going to happen in my life, because it was just that – my life. I loved her, but there came a point where I knew I needed to start putting myself first. Emily didn't consider my feelings before deciding to move to Paris...but then again, this wasn't about who did what to whom and revenge. It was about moving on.

Emily

My days had started to blend together quite a while ago. I would wake up in the morning and my whole body would ache. I would get out of bed only to have something to look forward to during the day – getting back into bed that night. Sometimes I would dream about Naomi. Those were the good nights. Seeing her smile again. Hearing her whisper my name and tell me that she loves me. Loved me. Sometimes her laugh would be the only thing I saw; her smile and the sound of her laugh playing on a loop in my mind. Sometimes I'd try to tell her I still loved her. That I needed her back and wasn't whole without her.

The other dreams I had were much worse. They were about John and all the moments leading up to my rape. Some of them made me re-live the whole thing. Those weren't the worst. Sometimes I'd dream about the clinic, hear the nurse tell me that it would hurt, hear her asking me if I was sure. I'd feel the pressure again, feel the pain all over again. Those dreams were definitely the worst. They made it so difficult to try to remember why I got out of bed in the morning. Why bother if I was just going to have those dreams? Why bother if I wouldn't dream of Naoms?

Every time I passed by a mirror, I'd do a double-take. Was my stomach rounder? I knew it was impossible, I knew I wasn't pregnant. But sometimes I hoped it was possible. And every time that I did a double-take and realized that I wasn't pregnant hurt just as much as the first time I did it two years ago after that day at the clinic.

Come on, Emily, I thought to myself as I tried to lift the sheets that still smelled like Naomi off of me. Just think about how great it'll feel to get back in bed tonight.

And so I did. I pulled the sheets off me, my body shivering as the cold air hit it. I sighed as I tried to sit up, but no matter how hard I tried, it wasn't happening. It was getting harder every day. Today, I didn't want to try anymore. But I knew I had to get out of that bed. So I rolled onto my side and rolled right onto the floor. For some reason, it was easier to get up off the floor and walk to the bathroom.

I covered the mirror with a towel and undressed, making sure I had another towel ready for after my shower. I didn't want to see myself today. I didn't want to be reminded that I still wasn't pregnant. Didn't want to be reminded of what I'd done.

I used Naomi's old shampoo and conditioner that she'd forgotten to pack. I liked smelling like her during the day when I wasn't wrapped in her bed sheets. It made it easier to remember that at least she thought I was a good person – that she'd wanted to be with me and that she'd loved me for whoever she thought I was. I'd started washing my face and brushing my teeth in the shower so I wouldn't have to use the sink and mirror.

I turned off the hot water after I'd finished up in the shower, and quickly wrapped myself in a towel. I turned my face away from the mirror as my hand blindly reached out to grasp the towel that was covering it. I pulled the towel down and left it lying on the counter, being careful not to look at the mirror at all before I walked out of the bathroom.

I got dressed quickly, pulling on a simple pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. I'd quit my job after I found out about the job in Paris, so I didn't bother with make up since I never left the flat.

"Emily!" Katie called from the kitchen as I slid on my slippers. "Breakfast!"

I shuffled out of the bedroom and was greeted by the greasy smell of a full English breakfast. Katie and Effy were already sitting at the table, which was fully set. It was an odd sight, considering our normal breakfast routine was more of an "every-man-for-himself" scenario, and we rarely set the table even at dinner time.

"We need to talk," Effy said as she grabbed Katie's hand. They both smiled tensely at me and gestured to the chair across from them.

"Sit," Katie said, sounding both like she was asking me and commanding me.

I did as I was told.

Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you thought.