She stepped out reluctantly, bracing herself for whatever came next.
Debra stood at the kitchen counter, her blonde hair pulled back loosely, the sleeves of her hoodie pushed up to her forearms as she moved with ease through her space. There was a stack of toast on a plate and a pan cooling on the hob, then she caught the scent of coffee as it reached her. God, Billie hoped she would be offered a cup before she braved the chill outside. It would give her a hint of energy if nothing else.
Debra turned when she sensed Billie was standing there. “Hi, good morning.”
No edge. No tension.
Billie swallowed. “Mornin’.”
Debra’s eyes cast over her quickly—not assessing or searching for answers—just checking. “How are you feeling?”
The truthful answer felt too huge to say out loud before caffeine, so she settled on something simple. “Tired.”
Debra nodded, thankfully accepting that without pushing. “I’ve made breakfast. It’s nothing fancy, and you don’t have to eat much, but you should probably have something.”
“I—” Billie stopped herself. Arguing felt pointless, so she nodded instead. “Okay.”
They sat at the small dining table together, the stillness between them surprisingly gentle. Debra poured her coffee, passed Billie a cup, and asked if she wanted milk and sugar.
Normal questions. Something Billie wasn’t used to.
Billie waited for the moment when everything would tilt. The anger would come, the hurt would be visible, and the inevitable reckoning would commence…but it never came.
Instead… “Do you need anything this morning, Billie? A shower, someone you can talk to…time?”
The simplicity of Debra’s attitude and demeanour almost broke her. “No, thank you. This is more than enough.”
Debra studied her, then nodded. “Before you leave here, I want you to know something.”
Billie’s shoulders tensed. She’d known it was too good to be true. Debra was about to tell her exactly what she thought of her.
“I’m not angry with you,” Debra said. “I was initially hurt, yes, and then I realised I had no right to be. We weren’t together. We’re…not together. What you do with Nina is none of my business.”
Billie looked up and frowned. “It was?—”
“Billie…” Debra cut her off softly. “Whatever you went through last night as a result of me walking in on you and Nina, you didn’t choose it, and you didn’t deserve it.”
“Oh, I did deserve it. The way I’ve treated you…how I’ve pushed you away time and time again.”
“You protected yourself in the only way you knew how,” Debra replied. “That doesn’t make you cruel. It makes you human.”
Billie stared down at the slice of toast on the plate in front of her, her hand clenching around her cup. “I don’t understand why you’re even being nice to me,” she admitted. “After everything I’ve done…”
“Because I see what you’re going through.” Debra gave her a small, sad smile. “And because shouting wouldn’t help either of us. It never does.”
Choosing to mull over the things Debra was saying, Billie sat silently at the table and managed a piece of toast with her coffee. Perhaps the quiet would help her this morning. Perhaps it would just eventually make everything feel terrible again. Either way, Billie was at a loss for words. She wasn’t used to or expecting anyone’s kindness, least of all Debra’s.
When they finished eating, Debra stood and reached for her keys. “I’m going to drive you home.”
Billie half-rose from her chair. “You really don’t have to do that.”
“I’d like to, and I’m not sure you’re in the right frame of mind to walk across London after last night.”
Billie didn’t argue; she didn’t have the energy to. But if she was being honest, the idea of going home alone right now terrified her more than she wanted to admit.
The drive had been quiet,even as they’d sat in traffic for the best part of an hour. There was nothing tense about it; it felt more as though Debra was giving them both a moment to process the last twenty-four hours than anything else. Billie appreciated it, even if she had spent the journey watching the city pass by through the window, feeling hollow and oddly fragile.
When they pulled up outside Billie’s building, neither of them moved an inch. The engine idled, the sound filling the space where words may have landed if either of them had the energy to try out a conversation. Billie stared ahead through the windscreen, her hands folded loosely in her lap. She was entirely exhausted now, not only from her setback last night, but from the weight of everything she felt unable to say.
