This is designed to be read two ways- either as a sequel to my Breathe story, or as a standalone Jange story. So if you haven't read Breathe you can read this with no problem, but if you haven't caught up with Breathe yet I would read that first, just because there's a moment in here that might completely change how you look at a couple of the Ange and Chloe scenes in Breathe!

This is actually just the prologue- I know the length is ridiculous. But when you get to the end of this chapter, you'll hopefully understand why I wanted to write it like this- the next chapters will be shorter and having this one first will give you a better reader experience, I promise. But yes, I'm so sorry about the length!

This chapter does contain discussion of self-harm- there's no graphic description, but as always please feel free to discuss it with me first if you're worried- I'm chloeggodard on instagram and iseultlabelle on twitter.

Reviews would be wonderful as ever- this has been an absolute nightmare to write because I had to do so much medical research for it, so feedback on whether it's paid off is so appreciated! And if you think you've worked out what's going on by the end, let me know! You might also be able to guess the meaning behind the title if you've read a few of my Holby fanfictions...

And finally, a huge thank you to Dawnsteelefangroup for again giving me so much help and moral support with this story- this style of writing and all the medical stuff is so far out of my comfort zone, and I never would have gotten this chapter done without her.

-IseultLaBelle x

Prologue

He doesn't mean to do it.

He won't even realise what he's done until almost a fortnight later.

He didn't mean it.

It wasn't malicious- why would it be?

He wouldn't want to hurt her.

She's his girlfriend's daughter, and while he hasn't spent an awful lot of time with her- just yet, at least, because he's in this for the long haul- he knows perfectly well that she's the centre of her mother's universe.

He doesn't need to see the two of them together to know that Ange is stupidly, unwaveringly protective of Chloe.

Not so much so of Dom.

With Dom, he has some room to get it wrong, at least at first, as he's navigating the brave new world of becoming stepdad to two adults six and nine years his senior.

But one wrong move with Chloe, and it's over.

Josh is all-too aware of that.

He doesn't mean to do it, would never, ever set out to hurt her, because he's serious about her mother and that means he's serious about her, too.

He really, really doesn't mean to do it.

It was a truly honest mistake.

He was only trying to help.

The irony is that he did help, at the time.

He just didn't appreciate the damage he'd done in the process.

He was thinking of Ange, when he did it.

He was thinking of Ange, because he knew she was stupidly stressed, that day.

She'd been stupidly stressed every day they'd spent on shift together for the last month, admittedly; ever since the AAU failed its inspection and the hospital was placed under special measures, she's practically radiated anxiety and tension beneath her hardened exterior.

But that morning, she'd been worse.

She'd been agitated all morning, short-tempered, just a little hostile, and he'd caught her in her office and asked her what was wrong but at first, all she would do was push him adamantly away.

"It's clearly something," he'd tried, when she shut him out for the third time. "I just thought it might help to talk about it, that's all…"

She'd made eye contact with him at last, sighed, bit her lip.

"Chloe's really stressing me out," she'd offered at last, before she'd pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and hurried away to deal with her next patient.

That's all she'd given him.

'Chloe's really stressing me out.'

He wouldn't know it for another two weeks, almost.

But he interpreted it all wrong.

He interpreted it all wrong, and he'll curse himself for it later.

He thought she meant Chloe was stressing her out because she'd been channelling her brother's sulky, self-centred, just a little bit obnoxious energy, that they must have had some falling out the night before, or something- or that the atmosphere at home was hostile, at the very least.

He'd seen a little of that side of his girlfriend's daughter for himself, after all.

That's how he interpreted her explanation.

If he'd understood what she'd really meant by that comment, he wouldn't have done it.

Except that doesn't quite cover it.

Never mind how exactly what he said, the way he chose to handle it, in the end, turned out to be pretty much the most insensitive thing he could possibly have said.

God, if he'd known just how badly he was going to fuck up with how he went about it, he never would have gotten involved in the first place.

He wasn't trying to interfere.

He really wasn't.

He only wanted to help.

Ange had told him Chloe was really stressing her out and he'd completely misunderstood what she meant, and then AAU had turned into a warzone in the space of half an hour thanks to a coach crash and a hit and run and three kids who'd been messing around in the school science lab, and she looked…

Older.

Worn.

The dark circles under her eyes were more prominent, all of a sudden, and her fingers trembled just a little- tell-tale sign she was running on excessive quantities of caffeine, even for her, and not a lot else.

She'd looked exhausted.

Exhausted, and drained, and Josh figured whatever had gone on with Chloe the night before, it clearly meant that Ange hadn't slept.

She'd looked as though she were just about at breaking point barely a quarter of the way through their shift, and all Josh had wanted was to make things a little easier for her.

Without her knowing, of course.

He's made that mistake too many times already; he won't be going there again.

And then Chloe had turned up.

Chloe had turned up on AAU right after Ange went into theatre, right as Josh was desperately trying to think of ways to make her life a little easier upon her return.

He hadn't meant anything by it.

Well, he had.

But if he'd known…

"Is Mum around?" Chloe had asked- and it was only then, trying to read her expression beneath her shut-off, aloof demeanour, that Josh had appreciated for the first time that she looks absolutely nothing like her mother.

There's none of Ange in her features.

He'd searched her face for warning signs because he can read her mother so well now, knows when she's off because she's angry, or frustrated, or overwhelmed, or sad, or hurting just from one look, the slightest change in her expression that no one else can see.

It was only in that moment, utterly unable to read his girlfriend's daughter's emotions whatsoever, that Josh realises Chloe looks nothing like her mother at all.

Well, maybe a little.

There's perhaps the tiniest trace of Ange in her bone structure, but that's the extent of it.

He can't make sense of her at all.

"You've just missed her," he'd told Chloe, busying himself with discharge papers, determined to clear as many beds as possible before her mother appears back on the ward. "She's just gone into theatre."

"You know how long she's going to be?"

She'd pulled down the sleeves of her thermal layer beneath her scrubs, stared him down, and Josh couldn't tell if she were being openly hostile or unintentionally cold, moody, shooting the messenger because of some unknown factor he isn't privy too.

Or perhaps this is whatever's been going on at home spilling over into the workplace, Josh figures.

And if it is, Ange doesn't need the stress.

"I think she might be a while," Josh told her vaguely. "Not sure- it's going to depend on what she finds in there, really. Bit of a tricky one- coach crash, shrapnel, you know. You need her up on Darwin?"

He knew full well that's not why Chloe was there, but he'd thought better of pointing it out so explicitly.

She'd shaken her head, fidgeted, restless. "No."

She offered him nothing further by means of explanation.

That's one thing she does have in common with her mother.

"Is it urgent?" Josh had tried

Chloe hadn't replied, but the look on her face had said it all.

He might not be able to read her subtleties, but her pout was self-explanatory.

It wasn't urgent.

It absolutely wasn't urgent; she just wanted Ange's attention, for whatever reason, and she was pissed at him because she felt he had no right to be her gatekeeper.

Josh rather gets the impression that Chloe isn't used to being told no when it comes to her mother.

"Might be best to leave it until later then, Chlo," he'd advised carefully, casually, and in that moment, he was trying so hard to come across as though he's on her side, here, not the evil stepdad not even old enough to be her stepdad, but it was only as the words tumbled out that he realised he's never heard Ange use that nickname for her. "She's going to be rushed off her feet today, if the last hour's anything to go by. Might be best to…"

"Okay," Chloe had replied quietly. She'd wrapped her hands around themselves, awkward, restless, and for the first time, then, Josh had noticed the plasters around the tips of half of her fingers, childlike. "Can you tell her I'll come back later?"

She was out the door before Josh could tell her that wasn't quite what he'd meant, and true to her word, she was back within two hours.

He could have gone and gotten Ange then, in all fairness.

He knew exactly where she was.

She'd taken herself off to the peace garden, vape and handheld fan in one hand, water bottle in the other, finally on her break and struggling with the unforgiving combination of the July heat (fuck, he should have realised that something wasn't right when Chloe appeared in a thermal layer, for god's sake, shouldn't have missed it) and the perimenopausal symptoms she keeps bringing up apologetically as though she truly believes any day now he'll process its significance and walk away.

He could have told her.

He could have told Chloe her mum was outside, given her what she wanted.

The trouble was, giving Chloe what she wanted felt like giving Ange exactly what she didn't need.

She'd needed a quiet moment to herself.

That's what she'd said, when he offered to join her on her break, and she'd told him to keep an eye on things until she came back, instead.

And yes, perhaps there was an element of jealousy.

He's never dated anyone with kids before- not kids out of the toddler stage, at least.

He's slowly learning that with Ange, he's always going to come in second to Chloe, sometimes third to Dom depending on the situation.

But he can't compete with Chloe.

And in all fairness, that's exactly as it should be.

Chloe came first, after all.

Chloe is her baby- her grown-up baby, admittedly, but Josh realised a long time ago that Ange is that mother to whom the age of her children makes no difference whatsoever.

With Chloe, anyway.

She's every bit the teen mum stereotype with Dom, and the absolute opposite with Chloe.

Chloe is her baby, her number one priority, and Josh entered into this fully aware of that.

But that doesn't mean that maybe, just maybe, there wasn't the tiniest edge of jealousy there, when he told Chloe he hadn't seen Ange, wasn't sure where she was.

Just a little.

It wasn't just that her words from earlier were still fixed in his mind, that he figured she was dealing with enough today as it was with work, didn't need her daughter to stress her out any further.

There may have been just the slightest feeling of if Ange didn't want his company, he didn't want her to have Chloe's instead.

That sounds awful, but it's true.

There was just the slightest trace of envy when he told Chloe he had no idea where her mother had disappeared off to, but at the time, he convinced himself he was only looking out for Ange.

Because Chloe might be Ange's number one priority, but Ange is his.

Ange is his, and he can't do anything about her hot flushes and her fatigue, her bouts of violent nausea and her mood swings, nor the ever-increasing pressure of managing an overwhelmed, understaffed AAU.

What he can do, however, is fend off the source of her unnecessary stress.

He can ensure that she gets the quiet time to herself she'd told him she needed, and so that's exactly what he does.

He sends Chloe away, notes the way she bites her lip like her mother, eyes glisten like her mother; maybe she's not so unlike Ange, after all.

He tells himself that she's fine.

She's fine.

Of course she is.

She wouldn't be able to just run downstairs and see her mum whenever she felt like it in any other job.

Whatever she wants, she can wait until after her shift, when Ange will have more energy to deal with her.

They live together, for god's sake, so surely it's not too much to ask for Chloe to manage her shift without her mother?

She'll be fine.

That's what Josh had told himself.

He was doing the right thing.

Maybe not for Chloe, but she'd survive.

He was doing the right thing for Ange.

She'd reappeared again at lunchtime.

He'd been sat in Ange's office while she was finishing up in theatre, and Chloe clearly hadn't expected to find him there, pushed open the door and her face had fallen instantly when she'd realised it was him sat at her mother's desk, not who she desperately wanted.

"Back in theatre," he'd told her, before she could even ask. "Look, it's mental down here today, Chloe. She's going to be lucky if she gets half a minute to herself…"

"She said to meet her for lunch," Chloe had interrupted- and absentmindedly, Josh had wondered how he'd gotten here, locked in a not-quite argument with his… stepdaughter? Over whom he has absolutely no authority whatsoever.

"What, she text you?"

"No, this morning."

"Yeah, I think things have probably moved on a bit since then," Josh had offered apologetically. "I'll be amazed if she even gets chance to take a lunch break…"

"She hasn't texted me…"

"I doubt she's had time. Might be best to leave it, yeah? She might text you when she gets out of theatre, I guess, but if she doesn't, I'm sure she'll catch up with you after work. Alright? Look, I really need to get on…"

She was gone before he could finish.

There was a gentle knock on Ange's office door ten minutes later, and he'd jumped, startled, removed his feet from the desktop because Ange couldn't be out of theatre yet and he wasn't supposed to be in there- not really.

He was half-afraid it was going to be the new director of improvement whose imminent arrival everyone is talking about, or Hanssen, who had made it perfectly clear that no part of him approves of his and Ange's relationship.

But it was only Chloe.

Again.

There's probably some law against finding your partner's child as downright irritating as he found Chloe in that moment- grown-up child or otherwise.

He only did it because he thought Ange needed the peace and quiet.

"She's still not here," Josh had told her- and he really shouldn't have allowed himself to come across half as frustrated as he did, in that moment, but he was starting to feel as though she didn't believe him, as though she felt that he was messing her around just for the hell of it, and that couldn't have been further from the truth.

Except it could, of course.

That's why he had felt so guilty.

He was trying to shake free of Chloe, but that's only because he loves her mother so much it scares him.

"I know," Chloe had pouted sulkily- except it wasn't just childish sulkiness; by that point, Josh was beginning to pick up on an edge of something else he can't quite shake. "I know, I heard you the first time. I've brought Mum lunch…"

"Oh, that's for Ange?"

He'd assumed that the sandwiches and monster munch she'd appeared clutching in her hands were her own.

"You said she wouldn't have time for a lunch break," Chloe had pointed out abruptly. "So I've brought her something before Pulses sell out of anything she'll eat."

"Oh, okay. Great, great, just… leave it there for her, I guess… you alright?"

He'd suddenly become conscious that she looked as though she were about to burst into tears, and he'd cursed himself, because he simply wasn't paying enough attention to know if this was new, or if she'd been dangerously close to crying ever since she reappeared.

"I'm fine!" Chloe had snapped, but her voice had wavered alarmingly. "I'm fine, I just…"

She'd shaken her head, hadn't been able to finish.

And Josh had been torn.

Torn because something about it had tugged at his heartstrings in a way he can't quite articulate even now, looking back.

She'd just wanted her mum.

She'd just wanted a hug from her mum- and he couldn't quite relate to that personally, not when he'd always been the one having to be strong for his mum, take care of her.

Josh can't even imagine still being so emotionally dependent on his own mum into his thirties.

But at the same time, she's Ange's daughter.

He cares about her because she's Ange's daughter, and no part of him enjoyed seeing her upset.

The trouble was, he couldn't shake the mental image of Ange heaving over the wastepaper bin that morning, sweating, pale, swaying… struggling.

She's been really struggling lately, and the stress of AAU being threatened with closure isn't helping.

She'd been suffering so badly that morning that Josh had gently tried to remind her that menopause isn't supposed to be quite this intense and perhaps she needed to get herself checked out, but she'd only brushed him aside.

She'd fobbed him off with a vague, half-story about how she'd been on oestrogen for decades so what else was her GP going to do with her, and then she'd taken herself off for a patient consult, and that was that.

Until he'd caught her fanning herself furiously in the corridor, collecting two bottles of water out of the AAU vending machine.

Chloe's really stressing me out.

Ange's words from earlier had echoed in his mind in that moment, faced with her daughter at peak clinginess, desperately fighting with him for her attention- and Josh felt bad, of course he did, but the thought of Ange's peace and quiet she'd told him she desperately needed if she was going to make it through to the end of their shift being rudely interrupted by Chloe and her apparent sudden need for attention for attention's sake made him feel even worse.

He did it for Ange.

He fucked up big time- there's no denying that.

But he only did it because he was worried about Ange.

He was trying to help.

He really, really was.

He didn't mean to put his foot in it so spectacularly.

"Look," he'd blurted out ill-fatedly. "Is there actually something you want Ange for, or are you just desperate for her atten…"

He hadn't finished.

One look at Chloe's crestfallen, hurt expression had been enough to inform him that he'd gone too far, and he'd barely even gotten started.

"Sorry," he'd stammered, damage control. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

Chloe's lower lip had trembled violently as though she were on the verge of tears, and her eyes had glazed over and she'd wrapped her arms around herself defensively, childlike… shattered.

She'd looked so small, so vulnerable, and suddenly, Josh had found it was easy to forget that she's six years older than he is.

"Has Mum told you that?" she'd practically whispered, voice breaking.

And all Josh could think was shit.

"No!" he'd told her quickly- too quickly, probably, because it was painfully clear from the look in her eyes that no part of her believed him. "No- honestly, Chloe. Honestly, your mum's not said anything about… sorry," he'd said simply, changing tactic. "Sorry, that was… that was a really stupid thing for me to say. Look… all I'm trying to say is, is it urgent? Because she's hardly had a moment to herself all day, and I don't think that's going to change before the end of her shift. It's been like this all week. And she's… she's really struggling with the…" He hesitates, unsure how much Ange has divulged to her daughter, how badly he's about to put his foot in it. "She's really struggling at the moment… with the… the heat…"

"I know she's perimenopausal, Josh," Chloe had snapped- or tried to, at least, because that might have been the effect she'd been aiming for, but her energy remained rather more wounded puppy. "She does talk to me, you know…"

"I never said she didn't. Listen… I didn't mean to get off on the wrong foot, I just… Is it urgent?" he'd asked again, rhetorically, because he knows the answer, but he's desperately trying to prove to her that he's not the enemy here, not trying to keep her away from her mum for the hell of it. "Whatever you want Ange for, I mean. Because if it's not urgent, I just think it might be better to leave it for now, yeah? She's pretty stressed today, she keeps telling me all she wants is five minutes to herself. You'll see her at home anyway…"

"She's out with you tonight," Chloe had pointed out, just the tiniest trace of resentment in her tone. "And tomorrow night. And she really needs that, too. She's hardly had any time off to herself to just relax and let her hair down lately."

"I know…"

"So…" Chloe had protested, hurt, and then she'd stopped. "So…"

She couldn't seem to force out the words for whatever it was she wanted to say.

He'd known, though.

Josh had known.

So when do I get to talk to her?

That's what she was thinking.

She just couldn't bring herself to voice it out loud to him, because he'd made her feel as though she was being pathetic.

He didn't even know why she wanted her mother, for god's sake, and he only went and fucked up even further from there.

"Look… can you talk to your dad, or something?" Josh had suggested. "Or… I don't know. Dom? Grandparents? Dad? Just until Ange is a bit less overwhelmed by this place?"

God, if only he'd known.

She misled him.

She'd nodded weakly, numbly, and clearly, she was nodding because she was going through the motions at that point, just wanted him to shut the hell up, because he had no fucking idea whatsoever what he'd just done but that didn't exactly make it any better.

But he thought she was nodding at 'dad.'

How was he supposed to know?

Ange hadn't told him.

He really, truly thought she was nodding at 'dad' as in sure, she took his point, she was worried about her mum's stress levels too and if she really felt she needed it, she'd call her dad for some comfort instead.

He never would have said it had he known.

"Your dad, then?" Josh had encouraged- because he's completely misunderstood her vacant, shutting-it-all-out nod, and god, he hates himself for it now. "Great. Just… someone who isn't your mum, yeah? She's… she's struggling a lot more than she's willing to let on, right now. If it's urgent then sure, I get it. But if it's not… I just think she needs her breaks from theatre to recover a bit from what this place has been like all week, you know? And try to get on top of our backlog, if she's going to get out of here sometime before midnight. You'll know all about that, it must be like that on Darwin right now too, right?"

"Sure," Chloe had agreed quietly, voice quiet, numb, and Josh had dismissed it as childish sulkiness, too woefully na?ve and uninformed to see it for what it really was, realise what he'd done. "Sure, I'll… that. …Okay."

She'd said it was okay, but her face had told a different story altogether.

She'd looked… broken.

Broken, and desperate for her mother, all the life gone from her eyes, and in that moment, Josh had doubted himself.

He'd doubted everything.

"If it's urgent, though," he offers apprehensively, improvising, "then I'm sure your mum would want you to…"

"Disturb her?" Chloe had challenged.

Her voice gave away that she was about to cry.

He'd done that.

"You wouldn't be disturbing her if it's urgent," Josh had tried, softening. "If you really need her, I'm sure she'd rather you talked to her and your dad…"

He's such an idiot.

His own dad was never around much, for god's sake, he of all people should know better than to assume the presence of a father figure.

He'd never heard Ange mention Chloe's dad, but then he figured…

He doesn't know what he figured.

That Ange had hardly told him anything about her past, he supposes.

That there's no reason for Ange to bring up Chloe's dad when Chloe is a grown adult, no need for her to have anything to do with her daughter's father.

He'd sussed the age gap and assumed it was a teenage relationship that barely lasted five minutes without even stopping to think about it.

He's so fucking stupid.

"It's not urgent," Chloe had whispered. "It's not urgent, it's…"

And then she'd frozen.

She'd trailed off and then she'd frozen, utterly motionless.

Her eyelids had fluttered rapidly, but she wasn't looking at him.

She wasn't looking at anything.

"Chloe?" Josh had tried gently. "Chloe, you okay?"

But she hadn't responded.

She'd just blinked vacantly, swayed ever-so-slightly, fingers jerking in small, subtle movements, and all of a sudden, Josh had known exactly what was happening.

Or he'd thought he did, at least.

It's not something he'd encountered a great deal since medical school- not then, at least, because everything would change.

But he was confident.

He was confident he knew what he was witnessing.

"Chloe?" he'd offered quietly, gentle. "Chloe, you're okay. You're okay. Everything's okay…"

And then she'd come out of it, as fast as it had begun.

She'd seemed to startle herself, as though the confusion of losing those few seconds while mid-sentence had completely thrown her, left her utterly disorientated and she hadn't yet worked out what had happened.

"You alright?" he'd tried again, just to be sure. "Chloe?"

"What?" she'd stammered- and in that moment, she'd just looked so lost, so thoroughly confused. "Yeah… I'm fine…"

"You've got epilepsy, haven't you?" Josh had pieced it together at last, blurted it out before he'd quite stopped to think. "That's why Ange…"

That's why Ange worries about you so much.

That's what he was about to say.

In a way, perhaps it was for the best that Chloe interrupted him before he could finish, because god knows that wouldn't have gone down well in the slightest.

"What?" Chloe had laughed, clearly taken aback. "No. No! What makes you think that?"

"You… you just… I thought…" Josh had stammered.

He was so sure he'd worked it out, that he'd finally made sense of Ange's overprotectiveness, just witnessed the explanation for that, for Chloe's apparent clinginess today, for all of it.

He was so sure he'd worked it all out, but she threw out his theory rather spectacularly.

The already diagnosed aspect of it, at least.

"I just what?" Chloe had pushed- and that hostile, you're-not-my-dad edge had returned to her voice again, as though it had never even left.

"You just…" Josh had begun awkwardly.

He'd been painfully aware of being on dangerous ground then, but something happened.

Even if he's wrong about exactly what, something happened.

He knows it did.

But Chloe clearly didn't.

And so then, he was worried.

"It seemed like I just lost you for a moment," he'd settled on at last.

He'd figured she couldn't take offense at that, surely?

"Because I'm tired," Chloe had snapped. "Because I'm tired, and I'm trying to keep a ward running single-handed with a new useless locum consultant every other shift. You might have impressed Mum with your diagnostic abilities, but maybe stick to what you're qualified for, yeah? If you think zoning out while running on three hours' sleep equals epilepsy, you'll have to diagnose half the staff in this place. I'm fine. Okay? Just stop interfering!"

And then she'd gone.

He'd been in the middle of assessing a new admission to the AAU when at last her mother had reappeared.

He'd tried to catch her eye across the ward, but she hadn't seemed to notice him, too absorbed in her phone as she'd unlocked her office door.

He'd watched her through the glass window as she'd stopped, frowned, inspected the pack of monster munch placed neatly on her desk, and by the time he was able to look up from his patient again, she was running down the corridor towards the stairs.

His phone had vibrated a mere five minutes later, after he'd returned to her office.

Ange, the screen had informed him.

Tell my daughter to back off again and we're through

I didn't! he'd protested. I just said you've been rushed off your feet all day and you probably wouldn't have time for a lunch break, I was trying to help! X

She'd fired back a reply before he'd even had time to put down his phone.

Not what she says, but whatever

He should have known better.

He should have known that if Chloe got in first, Ange would never, ever side with him.

Fine. She alright? Josh had asked cautiously.

Something was wrong.

Perhaps it wasn't a seizure, but it was something.

Ange needed to know.

Why wouldn't she be?

You need to ask her, he'd tried cautiously.

She probably thought he meant he'd upset her daughter even more than she already knew.

(Which he had, of course; that's the worst of it. He just didn't know it at the time.)

My daughter is none of your business, she'd retaliated defensively, protective mother tiger mode.

And Josh had been conflicted.

Ange I'm being serious. I'm worried. And I think you should be too.

She hadn't replied to that.

Not by text, at least.

She'd stormed back down to her office to confront him herself instead, arms around Chloe protectively.

Neither of them would look at him.

"That mine?" she'd asked him coldly, eying the sandwich and monster munch on her desk. "Chloe, you take those for me," she'd commanded, reached around Josh to pull her handbag from beneath her desk as though he wasn't even there, pressed her debit card into Chloe's hand. "There you go, take that while you're at it..."

"Mum…"

"No, I'm paying. You bought my lunch, it's only fair," Ange had reasoned, tucked stray curls behind her daughter's ear, fussing. "Evie said she was going to stick the last veggie panini in for you, didn't she? So you go ahead, go and pay for that and a coffee each and a slice of that revolting chocolate and beetroot cake you like. And make sure you put it on my card, please, I'll be checking my statement. I'll be right behind you, sweetheart."

She hadn't even waited for Chloe to close the door behind her before she'd launched her attack, utter fury in her eyes.

"You want to tell me why I've come out of theatre to find out you've told my daughter to give me some space?"

"I thought we'd already been through this…" Josh had begun, but she'd brushed him aside, apparently not having any of it.

Absentmindedly, he'd pondered that Chloe is always 'my daughter' when she's angrily defensive of her.

"I just want to make sure we're absolutely clear," Ange had told him firmly, raging. "You try anything like that again, and we're done. I mean it, Josh. I don't care whether it was with good intentions or not, you never interfere when it comes to Chloe. Is that understood? You stay out of my relationship with my daughter, and you never give her the impression that I don't have time for her, or I don't want to spend time with her…"

"It wasn't like that…"

"I don't care. I don't care what it was like, or what you were thinking, or whether it was supposed to be some big romantic gesture…"

"Of course it wasn't…"

"Good! That's just as well, because if it was, I'd been even more furious," Ange had practically snarled. "There's… there's things you don't know," she'd told him quietly, darkly. "There's things you don't know, and…"

"Care to fill me in?"

"No," she'd said firmly, abruptly. "No. But you're… you're playing a dangerous game," she'd told him instead, ominous, haunted. "You're playing a dangerous, dangerous game, giving her the impression she's… I don't know. That she's any kind of burden on me, ever. I don't care if that's not how you intended it. That's how she took it. That's how she's always going to take comments like that, she's… it's none of your business," she'd insisted. "It's none of your business, it's not for me to tell you. But she's… she doesn't always feel secure," she'd settled on at last. In her relationship with me, I mean. She doesn't always feel secure, she goes through phases when she genuinely believes I can't possibly love her. And I know… I totally get that in itself might not seem like a big deal to you, I get that she's an adult. I get all that. But it does matter, for her. It really, really does, it can be the difference between her… anyway. The point is, she's much more vulnerable than she looks. So you don't interfere. I can handle my own daughter, I've been a single mother for the last thirty-one years. Let me worry about how much time and energy I have left to give her- and the answer is as much as she needs, by the way. Always. She's my wee baby, I'd do anything for her. I find energy I don't otherwise have when she needs me."

"I don't know if she necessarily did need you." He'd been in risky territory and he knew it, but he had to at least try to explain. "That was kind of the whole point. I would never have told her to leave you in peace if I thought she needed you- I even told Chloe that…"

"Oh, so you think you know my daughter better than I do, do you?" Ange had fought back, furious. "Yeah? You know why I think she wanted me? Not that I know for sure, I'm going to have a nightmare getting anything much out of her about what she wanted now, thanks to you. But you want to know why I think she needed me? She…"

Her eyes had filled with tears, and she shook her head furiously, trying to compose herself.

"Chloe, she… she's been self-harming on and off for years," she'd forced out at last, voice breaking. "Since she was a teenager. It's been… a struggle. There've been times when I've… when I've really thought I might lose her," she'd admitted tearfully. "She has Generalised Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder… she was depressed for a while, when she was in high school. I can't even begin to tell you how horrific it was. When it's your child, it's just… you'd rather trade places with them. You'd rather go through it all and worse if it meant your child didn't have to. But she's… she's self-harming again. She told me in a roundabout way the other night, but I'm pretty sure it's been going on for a while now. She'll usually hide it well at first. She hid it well in general this time- I suspected it, before she told me, but I wasn't certain. Usually I will be. And that… I can't even tell you how much that worries me. But we… we kind of managed to have a conversation about it the other night- that's a bit of a breakthrough in itself, to be honest. Normally she absolutely will not talk about it. Anyway, we… I think I managed to get through to her. Just about. And I told her that any time she starts to feel overwhelmed by the number of potential… things, to use, in this place, any time she feels the urge to do that to herself, she can come and find me…"

"Shit," Josh had exclaimed loudly. "Shit, I'm so sorry…"

He'd felt sick.

Out of nowhere, he'd felt horribly, violently sick.

She's not…

She's not his stepdaughter.

That would be a little too strange and uncomfortable, to think of her as that.

She's absolutely not his stepdaughter.

But all the same.

Josh hadn't realised quite how much he cared about Chloe as an extension of Ange, quite how protective he felt towards her, until that painful revelation.

"So you've just sent Chloe away what, three times, and told her I won't have time for her today?" Ange had pointed out harshly, and the guilt was horrendous.

"We don't know that's what she…"

"But we don't know it wasn't, Josh! And she's certainly not going to tell me now, is she? Not after that stunt of yours. So thanks for that," she'd snapped. "Thanks for telling my daughter to stop pining after me when she might have been coming to tell me she wanted to self-harm. Thanks a lot."

"Do you want me to…"

"I don't want you to do anything, Josh! That's the point! I'll handle it," Ange had told him firmly. "Don't you say a word to her, I'm not having you trying to help and making it all worse. I'll talk to her, alright? I'll tell her you're an idiot…"

"Oh, thanks…"

"Well, you are," she'd told him fiercely. "You are- but I'd tell her anything right now if I thought it might convince her she's not a fucking burden and I've always got time for her. Anyway, I'm not arguing with you anymore. I've got to go and make sure my daughter eats something today and try to convince her what you said to her didn't come from me. Not to mention see if I can work out if she was coming to find me because she was feeling the urge to…"

"I'm so sorry…"

"Yeah, you should be. Try anything like this again and we're done, Josh. I mean it. I don't care if I'm busy, or I'm shattered, or I'm in theatre- I don't care if I'm about to be taken into surgery myself with a fucking missing limb, come to that. You never, ever tell my daughter I won't have time for her, because I always will. Is that clear?"

"Got you."

"Good."

"Are we still on for…"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly? Depends how Chloe is," Ange had shrugged, and she'd tried to seem casual, every inch an overprotective tiger mother, but Josh hadn't missed the pain and all-consuming worry in her eyes. "If I don't feel comfortable leaving her in by herself tonight, then no. Chloe comes first."

"Of course."

"She's out at her highland dancing class tomorrow night, though…"

"Her what?"

"I know. I know, I moved her four hundred miles out of Scotland, and she still managed to find somewhere she can jump around to bagpipes over bloody swords. I blame my mother… Anyway. Anyway, so I think we're still on for tomorrow night, just as long as she's not still so anxious she doesn't want to go. But I'll see you later, yeah? I'll be back after my break. I just really need to go sort out Chloe."

"Sure. Ange?"

She'd hesitated in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Just… keep an eye on her, yeah?" he'd offered stupidly.

He'd been thinking of her daughter's earlier… absence.

Whatever it was.

But he hadn't realised quite how ridiculous it sounded in the context of everything she'd just confided in him until she'd rolled her eyes and slammed the door.

It could have gone much, much worse, in all fairness, Josh had pondered to himself as he'd watched her go.

It could have gone worse.

But still there was an awkwardness between them that hadn't been there before, a lack of trust, a hostile edge.

He'd fucked up.

He knew he had.

He'd known from day one that she'd never forgive him if he messed up with Chloe, and yet that's exactly what he'd done.

And now he was on borrowed time.

She'd made that perfectly clear- not in so many words, but she didn't need to.

He'd messed things up with Chloe, and he needed to redeem himself, fast, if he were to avoid joining the long line of discarded exes Fletch had told him about- discarded because they tried to compete with Chloe, and that was one fight they were never, ever going to win.

He needed to redeem himself, prove he was serious about her still, and if that meant being serious about her children, too, then so be it.

Perhaps he'll never be Dom and Chloe's stepdad- not with their age gap.

But he's willing to be there for them, to embrace them as part of his new, just a little unconventional family, because they came first, and he had more than enough time and love and compassion and understanding for all three of them, Ange, Dom and Chloe.

He had to prove it to her, somehow.

He had to.

He didn't know it then, but his chance would come.

Less than a fortnight later, her daughter's life would be in his hands.