‘Where’s Eva?’ Hannah asked suddenly, looking around the table. ‘She wasn’t in her bed this morning, I thought I’d find her here.’
Maddy’s fingers tightened slightly around her cup before she could stop herself.
Don’t react.
‘I haven’t seen her,’ Aria said.
Mary squinted vaguely toward the door. ‘Probably gone for a run. People like her do that.’
‘People like her?’ Hannah asked.
‘Go-getters,’ Mary said.
Maddy let out a quiet breath and looked down at her coffee. This was good. This was easier. It was an hour less to spend with each other, and this afternoon, it would all be over. Maddy could keep herself busy till then.
‘Oh!’ Hannah said, suddenly pulling out her phone. ‘She’s texted me.’
Maddy looked up before she could stop herself.
Hannah frowned slightly as she read. ‘She’s had to leave early. Work emergency.’
‘Leave?’ Maddy said at a volume she hadn’t intended.
Four heads turned toward her. Maddy forced her expression back into something neutral. ‘I just mean… already?’
‘Yeah,’ Hannah said. ‘Bit rude, actually.’
Mary snorted. ‘That’s hilarious.’
‘It’s not hilarious,’ Hannah said. ‘I organised this weekend. The least she could do is…’
Maddy stopped listening. She stared down at the table, at the cutlery.
Eva had left. No conversation. No awkward attempt to smooth things over. She’d just gone.
A grateful feeling came, and Maddy greeted it with delight. She was happy Eva was gone, which meant repair from this was possible. It meant everything could reset. It meant the moment under the massage table could stay exactly what it was. A glitch.
And then…
She didn’t even say goodbye.
Fuck. Now Maddy was sad. Did that mean something?
No. It was fine. Maddy could be sad. Today. And then, tomorrow, she’d get on with the rest of her life. This was all fine. It was just cold feet.
Thirty
Eva discovered in the months that followed (or perhaps more accuratelyrediscovered) that there were two very effective ways to get over something: time and work. Time, unfortunately, was slow and unreliable. Work, on the other hand, was immediate, demanding, and relentless. She leaned into that.
Wedding planning, in particular, was an excellent form of avoidance if you approached it with intensity. Which Eva always had. But there was always further to go.
Because there was always something urgent, something teetering on the edge of disaster that required her full attention. Florists who misread briefs. Caterers who forgot dietary requirements. Bridesmaids who developed personal disputes with the ferocity of international conflicts. Eva tackled it all with focus and efficiency unknown, smoothing, fixing, anticipating problems before they fully formed. It required precision, calm, and the ability to prioritise other people’s emotions over her own.
She did not think about Maddy. Or, at least, the thought never got a real foothold.
The fact that she had left the spa without saying goodbye helped. It was a cold act. That was good. If she’d cared, shewouldn’t have snuck out. Therefore, she didn’t care about it. Beyond some shame, of course.
She was up to her eyeballs in seating charts for the upcoming (and unfortunately named) Seaman-Cox wedding when her phone rang. She answered without checking the screen, her attention on the spreadsheet.
