Chapter 20
Cornelia
Iwas feeling really confused, not knowing what to make of my conversation with Amelie.
Afterwards, I grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass and went to my favourite balcony in my grandmother’s house to think. It has amazing views—you can see all the land from here—but I prefer it in the morning, when you can see the trees and the skyline more clearly.
I sit on the railing, my legs dangling in the air.
The balcony is a slight drop from the ground floor; it’s not that high—just a few feet from the actual ground.
It’s not the kind of height that would be fatal if you fell.
Both West and TJ have jumped from here at different times to avoid walking around the stairs, but I’m not interested in joining that club.
I hear footsteps approaching, and I can tell it’s a woman from the distinct sound of heels clicking against the ground. I already know who it is. There are only a few people who would venture to this part of the estate alone, and even fewer who would wear heels while doing so.
“Hiding from people?” Annabelle asks. I turn slightly to see her standing in the doorway, wearing a beautiful pink dress with a fitted corset.
I smile. “Perhaps.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
I love her for it because I know if I say yes, she wouldn’t mind, but I don’t want her to.
“You’re not people; you’re my best friend,” I tell her.
Annabelle smiles, walks over to where I am, and climbs up onto the railing to sit beside me. She takes the glass of wine beside me, takes a sip, and then places it on her other side.
“I saw that TJ brought Amelie as his date,” she says softly. “Quel connard.” What an arsehole.
I chuckle a bit.
“I also saw you dancing with him. I hope you berated him,” Annabelle teases.
“Not as much as I would have liked to.”
We both smile.
She drinks what's left of the wine in the glass. “Also, what is she thinking? Nate and then TJ? Is she jumping from cousin to cousin? Is Laurie the next in line?”
That comment mutes me because, technically, I did the same.
Annabelle realises why I suddenly went quiet, and my smile faded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… but you know it’s not the same with you.”
“Why? Because I don’t really see it.”
“Because I know you,” she says gently. “And I know you didn’t do it intending to hurt anyone. If you had, you would have flaunted it like they’re doing, so everyone would know, and he’d feel bad. Which, by the way, TJ deserves after what he did, but you hid it to avoid hurting him.”
She’s right—my amazing, beautiful best friend.
She always knows exactly what I need to hear.
But that wasn’t the only reason I hid it.
It was my main reason, but the other one was that I didn’t want anyone to know because, in some ways, it would mean TJ and I are the same.
We both slept with people we knew would deeply hurt each other, and we were selfish about it.
I force a laugh. “He did deserve it, didn’t he?”
“He did,” she replies.
We both laugh a little until it fades, and I stare at the horizon, thinking about how things got so complicated and what I’m going to do about Nate.
Annabelle looks at me. “What else is bothering you?”
“Nothing,” I answer.
I hate hiding things from her, but this isn’t my secret to tell, and I only got the information secondhand—for all I know, it could be fake, even though it doesn’t feel like it is.
“I know it’s not nothing, but I’ll let you keep it to yourself for now,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
She takes the glass, now empty, and gestures for me to pour her some more wine.
I do. She drinks from the glass, and I from the bottle.
She leans her head on my shoulder, and I rest mine on top of hers.
We stay here in silence, watching the view.
It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but a calm and comforting one. One that feels like a cosy blanket.
If there’s such a thing as soulmates in friendships, Annabelle is mine.