I shuffled along the pier, sunglasses blocking out the midday sun and curious stares. 

“Oh, to be young again,” my grandma chuckled, taking a right onto a floating dock where the larger boats were moored. She glanced back at us. “The two of you look like death. Nothing some sea air won't fix.”

Macey grumbled something under her breath and Summer sniggered. 

“Don't,” the elder sister warned, but Summer was unaffected, looking as fresh as a daisy. Unlike Macey, my mood wasn't the result of a late night and too many drinks. 

I’d been surprised to see her waiting outside the house this morning. She'd made it clear at the last family dinner she didn't want to spend time with Beatrice, and I was certain she and her friends went to the after party last night at Brendon Palmer’s.

“Here we are.” The old woman stopped at a pristine white cabin cruiser. My eyes widened behind my glasses as I took in the beauty of the vessel. In the sanctuary of the pool house it was easy to forget just how rich Dad's family were. But out here, in Wicked Bay marina, it was impossible. The whole place reeked of money. 

“How wonderful.” Beatrice clapped her hands together as she started up the catwalk. “You made it.”

I paused, my head snapping toward my grandma's saccharine sweet voice. Stella and Bethany were already on board, standing there in all their father-stealing glory. She offered us a weak smile while her daughter scowled. It was a good job my sunglasses covered most of my face because I was sure my own sullen expression rivalled the little girl's.

“Come now, everyone on board.” Beatrice looked the part in her cut-off navy chinos, pin-striped blouse, and loafers. She'd even tied a white sweater around her shoulders. It was all very nautical, and I'd stifled a laugh when she picked us up from the house. No one else batted an eye. Because it was normal. Their kind of normal.

Macey and Summer followed her across the narrow walkway, but I couldn't move, rooted to the spot by the anxiety washing in my stomach. They were all so eager to force this woman on me.

A woman I wanted to nothing to do with. 

“Eloise, dear, are you coming?” Her eyes offered reassurance, but I found little comfort there.

“I'm not feel—”

“Eloise,” her voice was firmer this time and with a heavy sigh I traipsed on board. Macey looked as excited as I felt, and maybe for one day, we could unite in our aversion to the Stone-Prince women bonding trip. 

“You look lovely, Eloise,” Stella said as I took a padded seat furthest away from the rest of them. “You too, Summer, Macey.”

Macey scoffed, leaving Summer to answer for us. “Thank you, Stella,” she said. “It's nice to see you again.”

Traitor.

She flashed me an apologetic smile, but I lifted my feet onto the bench and leaned onto my knees, tucking my chin into my folded arms. Beatrice was busy barking orders to the man who helped us on board. My guess was he was the captain. He didn't look a day over twenty, dressed in crisp white shorts that hugged his arse a little too closely, and I smiled to myself when I caught Macey checking him out too. It seemed she wasn’t completely immune to people, especially ones with a cute smile and fit body.

As the boat cut through the water and the marina shrunk in the distance, I tilted my face to the side, letting the rush of sea air lick my skin. Beatrice was right, it was refreshing, and maybe by the end of the trip, all thoughts of a certain Prince would be blown far, far away.

Who was I kidding?

After that kiss, I didn't expect to forget about him anytime soon. It had seared itself into my memory—my heart—and although I knew better, I couldn’t undo it. I just had to push it to the recesses of my mind and pretend it never happened. Just like Maverick would, no doubt.

Beatrice was content talking to Stella and the captain—I heard her call him Daniel—until the boat slowed to a stop. I pushed my glasses up onto my head. The marina was barely visible, but the coastline was beautiful and I drank in the picture-perfect view.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” My grandma appeared at my side and I nodded.

“Very much so.”

She sat down beside me and I slid my feet off the bench. “I know what you’re probably thinking, dear. That, like your father, I blindsided you today. But sometimes people need a gentle push in the right direction, Eloise.” I followed her gaze as she glanced to Stella who was helping her daughter peel an orange.

“All a parent wants, is to see their child happy. Stella is a good woman. I hope, in time, you’ll find it in your heart to give her a chance.” She patted my leg and left me.

“What did she want?” Macey plopped down beside me.

“Just giving me the ‘get over it’ speech.”

“She’s a real piece of work.” She sneered. “Where’d you go last night, anyway?”

I frowned. When I thought me and Macey could bond over our displeasure of being here, I hadn’t expected this. “Just home.”

“Home, right. Funny, because I noticed Lions was missing too.” Macey shot me a sideways glance that said she didn’t believe a word I’d just said.

“What do you want, Macey?” I sighed.

She stood up and wiped her hands down her shorts. “Nothing. Nothing at all. My bad for thinking we might be able to have a civilized conversation.”

She stomped inside the cabin while I sat there wondering what the hell had just happened. But I was too exhausted to dwell on it. Beatrice asked Summer to help her prepare lunch, and they both disappeared inside too, leaving me with Stella and Bethany. I curled up on the bench again, slid my glasses back down and looked out at the ocean. If I ignored her, maybe she’d get the message.

It lasted all of two minutes.

“Eloise, do you mind if I join you?”

I craned my head around to Stella. Bethany was nowhere in sight. She didn’t wait for my answer, perching on the end of the bench. “Isn’t it beautiful out here?”

“Yeah.” That one word almost choked me. I didn’t want to do this—be here, talking to this woman. It wasn’t her. She could have been the Queen for all I cared. It was what she represented.

“Robert said it was Homecoming last night. Did you have fun?”

I shrugged, hating the way she said his name with obvious affection. “It was okay, I guess.”

“We didn’t mean to hurt you, Lo. I want you to know that. Your father loves you very much. I don’t want to come between the two of you. I know how hard it is raising a daughter on your own.” Her gaze moved to the cabin door and I couldn’t deny the sadness in her voice. It irritated me. I didn’t want to feel sympathy for this woman.

I didn’t.

“Bethany’s dad, well, he’s been out of the picture since she was just a baby. Life hasn’t always been easy but you just get on with it, you know. I can’t imagine what you went through and I’m not looking to replace your mom. But I love your father very much and one day, I’d like the chance to get to know you.”

Stella left to go inside while I sat there, numb.

I had nothing.

No words.

No arguments.

Just an ache in my heart and the silent tears flowing down my face.

~

It was Summer who eventually came to see if I was okay. I was relieved they’d given me space. But I knew I had to pull it together. For no one else but myself. I couldn’t keep letting the actions of others define me.

Nine months had passed since I woke up in hospital a ‘survivor’. When my ashen-faced father burst into tears when I asked to see Mum and Elliot, I didn’t want to be a survivor. I wanted the crippling pain—the physical heartache—to stop.

I wanted to end it.

To be dead.

People say time is a healer. But it’s a lie. Time doesn’t heal, it just masks. Sure, there are days when the pain is less, when it seems that things aren’t so bad, but scratch underneath the surface and the grief is still there. Raw and real. It isn’t a wound to fix. A hole to fill.

When I finally left hospital, I couldn’t return to life before. I couldn’t stand the constant looks of pity and words of sympathy. Life stopped the day I woke up in that sterile bed. Dad understood that; he understood I needed that little old medicine ‘time’. But he was wrong. I didn’t need time.

I needed a freaking miracle.

And I found it inside a vodka bottle or the bitter smoke of a joint. But even that wasn’t enough and before long, I was inhaling or swallowing anything that took me away. That transported me to a euphoric plane. I didn’t become addicted to any particular drug or the high. I became addicted to the escape.

The weightlessness.

Moving to Wicked Bay saved my life, I didn’t doubt that. And I only had Dad to thank for making that choice for me. But now I was here, trying to live, trying to ‘get over it’, and people were pushing me too quickly. Just because it seemed like I was coping on the outside, didn’t mean that on the inside everything was okay. That the gaping hole Mum and Elliot left was slowly being filled.

It wasn’t.

I tried so hard to think ‘what would Elliot do?’, but I wasn’t Elliot. Not even close. Growing up, he was the strong one. The fearless one. If he wanted something, he chased it down until it was his. And I was only too happy to live in his shadow. To share the light that permanently shined down on him. Because Elliot was going somewhere in life.

And now he was gone.

And I was still learning how to live without him. My brother. My best friend. The person who had always been there to pick me up when I fell, to give me a voice when I couldn’t speak. In a way, my older, wiser, over-achieving brother, Elliot had always been my crutch, and I was learning to walk unaided now he was no longer here.

I shifted on my knees, leaned over the side of the boat and inhaled a deep breath, letting the salty air fill my lungs.

“Hey, are you okay?” Panic laced Summer’s voice and I couldn’t blame her. She probably thought I was ready to throw myself overboard. But I just needed to feel.

Something.

Anything.

Feel the rush of salt air lick my skin, the sticky sea breeze in my hair, the sharp sting in my lungs just to know I was alive. And that no matter how hard, empty and painful the days were, I would get through this.

“Lo?”

The blood had drained from my knuckles where I gripped the rail, but as I turned to Summer, I smiled. It wasn’t strained or forced or fake.

It was real.

“I’m good,” I said. “Come on, let’s go eat. I’m sure everyone is fed up of waiting.” I climbed down and motioned for her to lead the way. Because I could do this. My way, on my terms.

For Mum.

For Elliot.

For myself.

~

“Thank you for a wonderful day, Beatrice,” Stella said. And she meant it. She wasn’t being fake or conceited. My grandma was right—as much as it pained me to say it—Stella was a good woman. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon watching her interact with her daughter and Summer. She radiated warmth and compassion, and whilst I was in no rush to let her into my life anytime soon, part of me—the part that didn’t want to vomit every time I saw them together—was happy Dad had found someone like her.

“It was really lovely spending the day with you all.” Her eyes lingered on me and I mustered a weak smile.

Beatrice and Stella hugged and did that rich-people air-kiss thing while the rest of us stood around waiting. Then my grandma leaned down and whispered something in Bethany’s ear. She giggled, nodding eagerly, and took her mummy’s hand, and they disappeared down the dock.

“What’d I miss?” Kyle’s voice boomed across the pier and I was surprised to see him, arms folded across his chest, leaning against his Jeep.

“What are you doing here?” I said as we reached him.

“Your chariot awaits.”

“You’re such a weirdo, Kyle.” Summer kissed Beatrice and hopped into the back. Macey managed some half-hearted thanks before rounding the Jeep and getting in beside Summer.

“Grandma B, always a pleasure.” Kyle pulled her in for a hug, peppering her wrinkled face with kisses.

“Kyle Weston Stone, put me down, this instant,” she insisted and he released her, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“Eloise, please don’t be a stranger. You are always welcome at the house. In fact, I’ll arrange a dinner. It’s about time I got to cook for my whole family.”

I let her hug me. “Thank you, for trying.” Her parting words sank into my bones. Had she known all along how hard it was for me today?

She waved us off, and Kyle launched into twenty questions about our day. Macey never mentioned her attempt at a normal conversation with me, and I didn’t tell him about my conversation with Stella.

Some things were better left unsaid.