In what may become one of the most defining and emotional moments of Home and Away this year, Irene Roberts quietly returns to her Alcoholics Anonymous meeting — not in crisis, but in quiet contemplation. This simple decision to sit once more among those who once helped save her life sets the stage for an incredibly poignant and powerful scene.

As she steps into the familiar circle of folding chairs, Irene seems subdued but calm, greeted with knowing smiles and supportive nods. It’s a space she hasn’t entered in quite some time, but one that holds deep significance — the place where she once found the courage to rebuild her life, piece by piece.

The room falls silent as Irene slowly rises to speak. She hesitates for a moment, visibly emotional. Her voice, when it comes, is soft but steady:

“I wasn’t sure if I’d come tonight. Not because I didn’t want to — but because I wasn’t sure what I had left to say. But then I remembered… this was the place where I learned how to tell the truth again. So maybe that’s what I need to do — tell the truth, even if it hurts.”

Her words hang heavy in the air. The group, sensing the weight of what’s coming, listens with rapt attention.

“I’ve been feeling lost lately. Not like before, not drowning in the same old habits… just—tired. Exhausted, really. I’ve spent so many years being the strong one. The fixer. The shoulder. But now, I wake up and wonder who’s looking after me.”

She pauses to collect herself, blinking back tears.

“For a long time, Summer Bay was my rescue. And I love it — I do. But I think I’m starting to realise that healing doesn’t always mean staying in the same place. Maybe it’s time I listened to the part of me that wants something quieter. Something slower. Something new.”

A deep, respectful silence settles in the room. No one interrupts.

“This isn’t goodbye. At least… not yet. But it feels like a beginning. Or maybe an ending disguised as a beginning. Either way, I needed to say it out loud. I needed to remind myself — and all of you — that choosing yourself isn’t selfish. It’s survival.”

Her final words are met with a soft chorus of supportive murmurs. A few attendees wipe their eyes. One of the group’s longtime members reaches out to squeeze Irene’s hand, whispering, “Whatever you choose, you’ve already made it through the hardest part.”

The moment is deeply cathartic — for both Irene and the audience watching at home. It marks a symbolic full circle, as Irene revisits the space that once saved her, not in crisis but in clarity. Her decision to open up, to face the future with honesty and vulnerability, is a powerful reflection of her growth.

Whether this speech becomes her goodbye to Summer Bay or simply the start of a new emotional chapter, one thing is clear: Irene’s journey is far from over — but it may be headed somewhere new.

And for fans who have followed her through decades of love, heartbreak, relapse, redemption, and resilience, this moment felt like both a gift and a goodbye.