Page 19 of Mark

“We’ve already covered and proved that wasn’t me,” he adds, then turns to my parents. “She steals my post, which is a criminal offence.”

Mum gasps. “Freya.”

“I was returning it,” I snap. “He stole Mellow.”

“Who is Mellow?” Dad asks.

“My cat.”

“It broke in to my flat,” Mark argues. “Just like its owner.”

“He stole my doormat,” I add snottily, before raising my voice. “And I never broke in. It was an accident.”

As he steps closer, his dad intervenes, pushing him back. My dad does the same to me. “That’s enough, Mark.”

“Honey, give me your card,” his mum orders. “Now!”

He reluctantly hands it over as I hear my mum cluck her tongue. “Freya, it’s day one and you’re already making a scene.”

“You’re blaming this on me?” I ask.

“Honey, why don’t you just go and get a new wardrobe,” Dad offers, handing me his card. “Me and your mum will try and find a more sustainable suitcase.”

My shoulders drop at the disappointment in his tone. “Okay.”

I grab his card, hand Mum my suitcase, and leave my dignity on the floor as I follow Teagan.

And pray for the twelve days to be over quickly.

CHAPTER FIVE

Freya

Now I’m in the cute little clothes shop, my bravado has diminished. Five minutes ago, I planned to spend as much as I could onhisdime, but now I’m browsing the racks, I wish I had kept my mouth shut.

Having a conscience sucks sometimes.

I let out a heavy sigh as I try to find the same anger and frustration that consumed me outside. Doing this felt easier then.

Maybe I should have let him come in with me.

“It would be easier if he was here, wouldn’t it?” Teagan muses, interrupting my moral compass.

I turn to the gorgeous woman who read my mind. “Sorry?”

“I just mean now that he’s not here, it’s not as much fun, is it?”

I laugh because it’s scary how accurate she is. “No, it’s really not. But please don’t tell him that,” I plead. “I can get some new things to tide me over. This really isn’t necessary.”

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you he can afford it?”

I lean my arm over the clothes rack. “It’s the manners my mum and dad engraved into me. Plus, it’s not fun if he’s not here for me to witness his misery. Now I just feel guilty.”

Hayden suddenly appears on the other side of the rack, startling me. “And that’s why I’m here.”

I glance around to see if anyone followed her, but aside from a few lingering customers who were already here when we arrived, I don’t see any more Carters. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to hear you backing out,” she replies and starts brushing hangers aside, scanning the clothes. “Going from the clothes you have on, this shop has exactly what you need.”

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