“No. You clearly aren’t ready to talk about what the fuck happened or what changed from the loved-up couple I saw yesterday, so I may as well get some work done. Then when you are ready to break down and share with your best friend how you are totally screwing this up, then I’ll be here, ready.” She walks past me to the elevator and pushes the call button which has the doors opening straight away, of course, because I not long walked out of it.

Ughhh, there’s that word again, “loved-up.” Why is she trying to punish me?

“Again, Team Harper, remember!” I complain as I walk past her into the elevator, and she just rolls her eyes at me.

“I’m so far in the Team Harper bunker that I’ve spent all morning designing our merchandise range with a t-shirt that has your face plastered all over it and black broken hearts all around you. Because that’s what being on Team Harper feels like right now. Standing here cheering on a train wreck that I can’t look away from, all because I never walk away from a friend in trouble.” Her voice is curt, and I can tell she is frustrated with me and worried at the same time.

It's why we are such close friends; we both know what the other needs. I don’t need to be mollycoddled right now. This diatribe of insults for my stupidity is exactly what keeps me putting one foot in front of the other.

Felisha is different. She can be the strongest, hard-ass bitch in a boardroom, but when her world started falling apart earlier this year, so did she, and it was a shock to both of us. I knew how to protect her, but it meant that I had to be the strong one to step into her place at times. It was probably good training for what is to come for me today.

“Great, what color shirts are we getting?” I ask. “I mean, anything but yellow because it will make my face look washed out and pasty.”

Standing side by side as the elevator descends, I turn to look at her. “Thank you,” I whisper, leaning my head on her shoulder for a moment, and she just gives me the few words I need to hear to get through this day.

“I’ve got you. We will get through this together.” Her voice is full of compassion.

I close my eyes and just rest my head there for a few moments longer until the elevator slows as we get close to the ground floor.

Standing up straight, I throw my bag on my shoulder and prepare to take on the day the only way I know how. To find someone or something that needs me to rip it apart and send people scrambling because this bitch is on a rampage.