#14

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FOURTEEN

'There's no one defining moment that kills you or makes you.' - Sinbad

It's the Tuesday the week later when I next decide it's okay to come out of hiding again. I'm wearing a pair of faded black joggers that are slung low against my hips and the same musty old t-shirt I have changed back in and out of for a few days. I am on my way to the kitchen to raid the cupboards when I stumble right into Charlotte's blonde ponytail, or rather she slams into me.

"Whoa, where is the fire?" I say as she mutters out a string of curse words. I take a small step back and analyse her. She's dressed in her riding gear as normal, her olive-green polo tucked into a pair of tight-fitted leggings, her riding boots thick with mud.

"Don't let anyone see you traipsing all that mud in," I tell her with a small smile.

Charlotte pulls a face and blinks at me. She looks at me like I'm death walking. "Where on earth have you been?"

"What do you mean?" I say to her casually despite knowing full well what she is talking about. In my isolation, I have also ignored my best friend's phone calls. Not because I don't want to speak to her, but because I know that if I do, she will tell me everything I do not want to hear. I stare at Charlotte and something like guilt mirrors my own expression because I think I had almost forgotten she was Mike's cousin too. I'm not the only one who has experienced a loss and I suddenly want to punch myself in the face for being so damn inconsiderate.

"I know you're finding things hard, Eva. You're only human and it's expected, Mike's death hurt me too," I swear her bright eyes dull, "but when I literally have to bribe buffalo bill over there to find out if you're still even in this freaking country, that's when I'm worrying." She beckons over her shoulder to Adam who is, as usual, a few paces behind. He's lingering outside of the kitchen as if he's trying to give us some privacy, but I can tell the bodyguard can hear it all.

"I'm surprised he told you," I reply, eyeing Adam from over her shoulder.

"He didn't have much of a choice," Charlotte snaps, "I threatened to snap his penis in half and feed it to him if he didn't tell me you were okay."

I struggle to suppress the smile. "I'm sorry I didn't answer your messages," I tell her, and I mean it. Looking back at it now, I feel uncomfortable knowing I left her hurting too.

"If you weren't the next queen of England I'd dump your arse right here, right now." She pulls out a chair on the kitchen island and plonks herself down. "Where is everyone?" she flickers her head around the kitchen.

"Upstairs kitchen," I tell her and take a seat opposite her. "And for the record, you can't dump me. I'm your best friend and I'm also your cousin."

"Semantics," she flaps her hand in the air but she's grinning. "I've missed you; I've missed us."

"I missed you too," I tell her. I didn't realise just how much. Charlotte makes me feel grounded, happy. I'm a level of content with my best friend that I don't have with anyone else.

"Were you at the yard today?" I ask her but then notice her ribbons.

"No, had a match against those Berkley girls. Animals, all of them. You'd think polo would have more elegance to it, but those girls are wild."

I laugh and pull a piece of fruit from the bowl centred in the island. I roll the apple between my hands and purse my lips. "I said something to James I shouldn't have said," I tell her.

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