eighteen.

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─☼☼☼─

𝙣𝙤𝙬

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙊𝙁 a break up was still fresh in Charlotte's mind even three months later. Every emotion she had felt that February night still coursed through her veins like a parasite, gripping her heart and yanking at it.

The wound had begun to close. The past few weeks with the Pogues had helped her forget.

But now Rafe was here, in her house, her bed. How could the wounds close when he was here ripping them open once again?

She hadn't slept more than a full hour last night. Every time she drifted off to sleep, her mind seemed to remind her that Rafe was right next to her. It was then that her heart rate began doubling, her palms grew sweaty and her head grew full of jumbled thoughts.

Charlotte could not be that close to Rafe Cameron...not right now.

So that's exactly why she had left her room at the first sign of morning light. Her parents had already headed to the restaurant for the breakfast rush, and Kiara would be asleep for hours. She knew Rafe would be too.

Hours of the early morning passed as Charlotte sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through numerous rehab centres. She was done watching Rafe kill himself. She was done begging him to stop. Something had to be done. And if Ward Cameron wasn't going to do it, Charlotte would.

It was nine o'clock in the morning when she received a call from John B claiming he was putting together some big elaborate scheme to get Kiara and Sarah on speaking terms and he wanted her help. Charlotte told him she wouldn't touch that situation with a ten-foot pole.

Kiara left the house thirty minutes later and it took everything in the eldest Carrera not to warn her sister what she was about to walk into. She decided that she would rather let it play out...she was kind of curious if John B was going to pull it off, or if he was going to end up murdered by his new girlfriend and his best friend.

Her head was still swimming with all the possible scenarios of John B's mission when she heard a creak on the stairs.

Looking up, Charlotte saw Rafe hesitantly standing on the bottom step, his eyes darting around.

"No one's here." Charlotte assured, her voice hoarse from exhaustion. "It's just me."

Rafe let out a visible sigh of relief as he hopped off the bottom step, giving Charlotte a lopsided smile as he entered the kitchen. "Morning, Lottie."

Glancing up at him, Charlotte did her best to keep her face neutral. "Hi."

While she was willing to help Rafe, she was not willing to act like everything was fine between them. Rafe had destroyed her, whether she wanted to admit that or not, and he was not going to do that again.

Either not noticing, or choosing to ignore, Charlotte's cold attitude, Rafe grabbed an apple off of the counter. "I used your shower. Hope you don't mind."

"Nope." Charlotte answered, reaching for her third cup of coffee that morning.

A small smirk grew on Rafe's face as he moved so Charlotte was forced to look at him. "You kept my shampoo. Thought you would have thrown it out again."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃─𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬Where stories live. Discover now