"So you're really leaving?"

Abby sits across from mum and I. She's clasping mum's hand, smiling back at us brightly. Tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes as she nods.

"Yes," Abby whispers, "I'm finally getting out."

In the week since being released from hospital and being situated back home with mum, the adjustment had been harder than I'd thought. For her, it seemed almost as if she was lost. She'd spent so much time away that she didn't know how to start again.

The news that dad was in rehab clearly hurt her. She tried to mask the pain well, but I know my parents. She'd called him straight away, a phone call that had broken us all apart. But in the end, it will mend us again. For the first time in five years, we are whole.

"I'm so happy for you," my mother smiles, cupping Abby's cheek as a stray tear lands softly against her skin. "You deserve so much more than you've received."

I turn to mum now, staring at her kind eyes and sympathetic smile. So strong despite the nightmares that have been plaguing her sleep all week. I had laid with her every night, praying that I could act as some semblance in order to make her feel safe.

It's hard without dad here to support her too, but I know it's only right for him to continue in the clinic. We'd be able to visit this weekend for the first time.

"What does this mean for you and Max?" I ask.

"We're trying long distance," she brushes her dampened cheeks. "He's trying to get his roster changed so he can have weekends off. He'll be able to make the two hour drive to see me. Or, I'm sure eventually I'll come back to visit home."

Even as she says it, I see the apprehension in her eyes. Abby is leaving for a reason. She didn't need to return. She's moving forward for the first time in her life.

"I just want you to know," she continues, "that I am so grateful for you both. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have found the courage to come forward against Tom."

Laying in bed two nights ago with mum had caused her to release everything she'd been hiding. How after she'd walked out from Kevin Winter's house, Rebecca Laderman had hit her with her car. Xavier and Dylan and threatened her against speaking out about what had happened, even though mum wasn't going to. She was aware that it was an accident and that Rebecca was apologising profusely. She'd held my hand tight that night, telling me that she felt bad for Rebecca, that this town puts too much pressure on her.

After that, despite being told by Doctor Benson that it was in her best interest to stay for observation, mum had been on her way to confront Tom after Abby's confession. I'd inherited the inpatient gene from her, which is why she had decided to leave the hospital and face Tom at the supermarket before closing.

Upon arriving in her vulnerable state, she'd confronted him and for a split second, after telling him that she was going to the police with Abby, she'd turned away from him. He launched on her then and she'd blacked out when she'd hit the ground.

Hours later, she'd woken up in a room partially naked, only to learn that she would spend the next five years locked up. She never even knew where she truly was until the police had found her.

"I'm so proud of you," mum praises. "That man will never see the light of day again. I know this town will make sure of it."

Abby nods, squeezing mum's hands. "Once you graduate, Cora, my door is always open. The apartment I'm renting has a spare room. If you happen to go my university nearby or if you just need an escape for a few days, you know where to find me."

I smile gratefully at her. "Don't be to sure," I joke. "You'll probably get sick of me as a roommate."

"I could never be sick of you."

Despite having limited time to truly get to know Abby, I know that everything that has happened this summer will bind us together for a long time to come.

As she gets up to leave, she turns back to me, a sparkle in her eye. "Rhys has been asking about you. Maybe you should give him a call."

Mum laughs quietly next to me and I throw her a perplexed glance. Despite telling her everything that had happened between Rhys and I, somehow, she still likes him.

"We all make mistakes," she'd told me last night, staring up at the ceiling fan. "The important thing is that we learn not to make those mistakes again. Does he regret what he did?"

"Yes."

"Then that's what truly matters."

"Lucas texted me earlier," I say now. "He's been with him all week."

Three days ago, Lucas has woken up. Despite being slightly confused, he's recovering well and the doctors don't expect him to miss too much school.

"Rhys really wants to see you, CeCe," Abby softens.

I can't deny that I've wanted to see him too. But so much is going on. I'd only had time to focus on mum finally being home with me.

Before I can respond, a car is pulling into our driveway and my breath falters. Ryan exits the car, shutting the door behind him as he walks towards us.

"I should get going," Abby smiles. "I still have so much packing to do before I leave tomorrow."

She pulls me into a hug and kisses my mum's cheek before nodding at Ryan and walking away.

"Hey, Mrs Cadigan," Ryan nods. He watches her closely, like he's unsure that she's real; standing alive in front of him. Some days, I feel the exact same.

"You know it's Zeila, Ry. Don't make me sound older than I am," she jokes, jabbing a finger at his chest before walking back into the house and leaving us alone.

Although I'd seen him in the past week, we hadn't spoken about our fight. Neither of us felt that it was right to acknowledge what had happened.

"Want to come in?" I ask.

He nods, clearing his throat as we walk to my bedroom. We fall against my bed, lying back to stare at the ceiling. I drum my fingers against my chest, unable to think of the right place to start.

"When did everything get so complicated?" he whispers.

"I don't think there's a specific moment," I murmur. "There are so many things I could say, so many moments we could blame, but life is always going to get complicated."

"I'm sorry for how I acted in the hospital," he acknowledges. "But you have to understand that you being with Rhys is not something I will ever be able to accept. I don't like the guy and nothing will change that."

"I know," I whisper.

"You have every right to live your own life, Ceeks. But please don't keep me in the dark. Even if you know it will hurt me, I'd rather know from the beginning. You lying to me was the worst part to comprehend."

"Worse than the part where I told you Rhys was my boyfriend and that he wrote the letter?"

"Too soon for jokes," he mumbles.

"Sorry," I grin, reaching for his hand. I entwine our fingers, not taking my eyes from the ceiling.

"Do you still love him?" He asks, the pain evident in his voice.

I could lie; tell him no. But I don't want to keep lying anymore.

"Yes," I breathe. "I know it would be easier not to, but when has my life ever been easy? I can't help how I feel, Ry."

"Okay," he says, voice thick.

I turn to him, watching his attempt to stay stoic. He won't look at me, even as I stare at his long lashes, his flawless features.

"It doesn't mean that I don't love you too. As my best friend," I whisper.

"Do you want to be with him again? Despite what he did?" he asks, jaw slightly clenched.

Truth is, there is no straight forward answer to Ryan's question. Yes; a part of me does want to be with Rhys again. A part of me always will.

"I don't know," I finish. "It's...complicated."

"There's that word again," Ryan smiles, painfully.

"I'm sorry if that isn't what you wanted to hear."

"No," he closes his eyes, shaking his head. "I want you to be honest with me. The way we used to be. I want to fix everything. And if that means I have to accept the relationship you have with Rhys, then I will. Even if at times it will be hard."

I sit up and pull him into a hug. "Thank you," I say, earnestly. "I hope you realise how much you've grown this summer."

"I think my heights the same, actually."

"I meant maturely, idiot."

"Oh," he laughs. "You should probably call Wes and Dory. Let them know that we've made up so that they can stop taking my side."

I snort, shaking my head as I punch his shoulder lightly. "You totally bribed them, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he says, sheepishly.

"No surprises there," I scoff.

Then he launches himself at me and I'm tackled to the floor, laughing. A memory blooms in my mind of Ry and I at age ten, pretending to be professional boxers. I'd given him a black eye that day. We never did that again after getting detention at school.

But it's just like old times. Just like our old friendship.