XXVIII

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"Where are all the knives and forks in the kitchen?" I ask Vlad, who has been sleeping on my couch ever since I asked for his help.

"You don't remember?" he suddenly starts laughing, "You hid everything in the balcony, kept saying that some dark shadow is coming to kill you."

I'm in awe at every new detail I hear about my withdrawal. It's a massive blur in my memory and I'm glad I don't remember most of it.

Two weeks have passed since then. Cocaine addiction isn't really a physical addiction, it's more of a psychological addiction and it's going to be a long way before I'm able to completely heal my soul and my mind, but I'm glad the hardest part has been done with.

I want to change my life. I promised Eva, and I promised Max. This time I even promised myself.

"Who's this Maximilian dude you kept talking about, by the way?" Vlad asks while eating the pasta I've prepared for us.

"Huh?" I feel the blush spreading over my cheeks.

He starts laughing while making jokes about my face and everything red in existence.

"You love him, don't you?" he becomes serious.

"I don't want to." I answer truthfully.

"But you do."

"I do."

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