The Better Choice

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The Better Choice Page 11

by Modglin, Kiersten


  After a few moments, Asher returned, his head hanging down.

  “How did it go?” she asked with a grimace. The look on his face told her it hadn’t gone well.

  He looked up, running a hand over his hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He says he’s not mad, but of course, he is. I’m a horrible best friend.”

  She approached him carefully, soothing him with her voice. “Hey, you are not horrible. You didn’t know. None of us knew. And, Ash, it doesn’t matter. Finn doesn’t have a claim over me.” It was partially true, at least. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “But I shouldn’t have told you about him going to prison. That wasn’t my place and, selfishly, I did it just to make sure you’d choose me.” He stared at her with sorrow-filled eyes. “I don’t want to be that person.”

  She pulled him into a hug. “I already chose you, Ash.”

  “He looks at you like…” He paused, looking down and then back up at her.

  “Like what?” she asked, lowering her gaze.

  “Like he wants to rip your clothes off,” he said finally, catching her by surprise.

  “Asher, Finn and I never—it wasn’t like that between us.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No. It wasn’t.” She kissed his lips firmly. “I love you so much. So if you need to spend the weekend repairing your friendship, you can do that. I’ll be right here.”

  He sucked in a breath. “He never even let me know that he was out. That he was back. My dad knew, but no one thought to mention it to me.”

  “Sounds like the bad friend in this relationship isn’t you.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. If he doesn’t want to be around me, then that’s fine. I’ve lived ten years without the man who used to be like my brother. I won’t beg him to be in my life.”

  She lifted up on her toes, rubbing his cheek. “It’s his loss.”

  He smiled at her, his spirits visibly lifting, and her heart warmed. She’d done what was necessary. Making Asher feel better was all that mattered to her. That was her place—standing by his side. Wherever Finn was, whatever he had done, it didn’t concern her. Asher was the man of her dreams, her true happily-ever-after, and she had to force herself to stop thinking about the man who’d once consumed all of her thoughts.

  * * *

  Blythe awoke in the dark bedroom, her eyes heavy with sleep. She reached her arm across the bed, sitting up when her skin didn’t connect with his. She looked around the room, her suspicions confirmed. Asher was gone.

  “Asher?” she called, her voice echoing through the quiet room. She lifted the cover from her legs, her feet sliding quickly to the cold hardwood floor. The room was completely dark except for a sliver of moonlight coming in from the window to her right. She tiptoed across the room, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake the other guests sleeping in the house. Or, she guessed she was the true guest. The others were family, except for Finn.

  She opened the door slowly, thankful it didn’t squeak like the rusty hinges of the farmhouse doors she’d grown up with. There was no sneaking to be done around that house. She’d always believed her father refused to apply WD-40 specifically so her parents would always know if she tried to sneak out. It had worked, she supposed. The squealing door had kept her honest.

  She looked at the door to the bathroom, the yellow light shining out from under the wood, and heaved a sigh of relief. He must’ve woken her when he left to use the bathroom. She turned around to go back toward their room when she heard the water shut off and, within a second, the door was opening.

  “Blythe?”

  She expected to see Asher, but she knew the voice wasn’t his. “Finn?”

  “What are you doing?” they asked each other at the same time.

  He ran a quick hand through his hair. “Listen, about earlier…”

  She cocked her head to the side, waiting for him to explain. What possible explanation was there for the lie he’d told her? While, technically, she guessed there wasn’t really a lie—it wasn’t as if she’d come out and asked him if he was a criminal—it was a lie of omission all the same. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  He blew air from his nose, obviously trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he nudged his head in the direction of his bedroom. “Come with me, okay? Not out here.” He started to walk toward the room but stopped when he noticed she wasn’t following him.

  She bit her lip, looking down the staircase. What would Asher do? He certainly wouldn’t be okay with her following Finn into his bedroom. But it wasn’t as if something was going to happen. She wouldn’t let it. She meant every word she’d said to Asher. She loved him. But she needed to know the truth.

  “Asher’s gone,” Finn said finally, interrupting her thoughts.

  She glared at him. “Gone? Gone where?”

  “He headed out a while ago. Said there was something he needed to do.”

  “He talked to you? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  He shrugged. “I overheard him telling someone downstairs. It sounded like he was on the phone. He didn’t leave you a note?”

  She shook her head, but truth be told, she had no idea. She hadn’t been looking for a note—she’d been looking for a person.

  “Go call him if you want,” he gestured toward their bedroom, “but if you want to know about me…I’ll be in my room. The choice is yours.”

  She nodded, watching him disappear into his bedroom, true to his word. As she stood, contemplating her next move and chewing her bottom lip, her stomach rumbled. Whatever choice she made would be wrong. She wanted to call Asher, wanted to know where he was and what he was doing. But the mystery surrounding Finn also had her dying to know the truth. If Asher came back now, there was a chance she’d never know. If she found out the truth from Finn, she could call Asher as soon as she was done.

  Without allowing herself to debate any longer, she stepped forward, turning the knob to Finn’s door and stepping inside. The room was almost identical to theirs except for the fact that Finn had his curtains pulled open, giving a perfect view of the mountains and an even better view of the man sitting on the edge of his bed. The disheveled T-shirt, the loose sweatpants, his messy hair. It all reminded her of the mornings they’d woken up next to each other. The room smelled of him—like soap mixed with his warm cologne. She took a breath, breathing in his scent. It was intoxicating.

  She shook her head as if to clear him from her brain. “So?” she said angrily. “Speak.”

  He sighed, remaining seated on the edge of his bed. He didn’t look even a bit surprised to see her standing in his doorway. “I should’ve told you,” he admitted.

  “Well, that’s the understatement of the year. I was staying with a criminal, Finn. Is that who that man was? One of your criminal buddies? Did you really put me in danger?”

  He stood up, half of his face hidden in the shadows cast by the moonlight. “Now, hang on just a second. You can be mad at me all you want. I wish that I’d told you, I do. But the minute I had even a hint that being with me might put you in any danger, I left. I told you I wasn’t a safe choice. I told you I didn’t belong in your life. So, you can be mad at me for not telling you the truth about my past, but you don’t get to blame me for not considering your safety. That’s all I’ve thought about. And I’ve made sure that you’re safe. I’ve taken care of you. I gave you an apartment. I protected you.”

  “Is that what this is about? Because you gave me your apartment, now I owe you?”

  He scowled. “When the hell did I say anything about you owing me anything, Blythe? I did what I did because I wanted to. Not for any other reason. I honestly had no intention of ever seeing you again. And, really, can you blame me for not telling you about my history? It’s not exactly how I like to lead into conversations.”

  “You still should’ve told me.”

  “It’s not just
a box you check on a fucking job application, Blythe. Don’t you understand that? This thing follows me everywhere I go. If I had to introduce myself by telling everyone I meet what I’ve done…no one would want anything to do with me. You included.”

  “What did you do, Finn? What were you in prison for?”

  He closed his eyes, standing up from the bed finally. “If I tell you the truth…you’ll never look at me the same.”

  “It can’t be any worse than what I’m already imagining.”

  “Yes. I promise you it can.”

  “What did you do, Finn? You promised you’d tell me if I came in here. I’m here. So talk.”

  “I’m not a bad person.”

  “What did you do?” she repeated through gritted teeth. When he didn’t respond, she reached for the door. “This was a waste of ti—”

  “Murder.” He spit the word out, reaching for her arm. “I went to jail for murder.”

  Her blood ran cold, and she turned around. Whatever she was imagining, he was right, this was worse. “W-what?”

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. It was ten years ago. I was a kid. A stupid kid who made a stupid mistake. It’s taken everything from me, but I don’t want it to take you, too.”

  “Finn…” she whispered, backing away from him. “How…how could you?” As he reached for her, she couldn’t help seeing bloodstains on his hands, searching his eyes for the heartless killer that must be lying just below the surface.

  “You don’t understand. It’s complicated. So much about my life has changed from who I was back then. I’m not who I was.”

  “You killed someone.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I’m still the same person you met on your first day in New York.”

  “No,” she repeated, her voice filled with sudden fury. “No, you aren’t. As far as I’m concerned, I wish we’d never met.” She grabbed hold of the door handle, pulling it open. His hand met the wood, slamming it shut, his eyes burning into hers.

  “You don’t mean that,” he challenged her.

  “You don’t know what I mean.”

  “I know you have feelings for me, Blythe. I know you wanted me before you knew the truth. I was an idiot for running away. I should’ve told you everything, should’ve fought for a real chance with you.” He took a gentle hold of her arm.

  “I’m with Asher,” she said firmly. “You lost whatever chance you may have had. I don’t want you anymore, Finn. I love him.”

  Her words stung him, she could see it in his eyes. He released her arm instantly. “Okay,” he said finally, his jaw hanging open. “Just…if you change your mind, if you want to know more—”

  “I won’t,” she told him, pulling the door open with force though he’d already released it, and rushed down the hall. Her heart was pounding as she closed her bedroom door, resting her back against it and letting out a heavy breath.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next morning, Blythe sat on the edge of the bed, her stomach turning circles as she scrolled through her phone. How on earth had she once felt so safe around a man who’d done such horrible things? How had he managed to keep that part of himself from her so effortlessly? She supposed that’s what criminals did, after all.

  She’d told Asher she had an upset stomach, using the excuse to spend the morning searching the internet to find more details about Finn’s past. He’d told her the truth, as multiple articles confirmed. At age seventeen, Finn O’Brien had committed murder in the second-degree. A drug deal gone bad had resulted in a forty-two-year-old man, Cedric “Ed” Jackson, being found the next morning with his skull crushed, the result of blunt force trauma. His head had been beaten against a building in an alley so hard he died instantly. Reports said no one had seen the assault, but two witnesses saw Finn entering the alley just before the attack. Finn was brought in for questioning less than a week later, and he confessed almost immediately. He claimed his dealer had been trying to assault him for money he didn’t have and his actions had been done in self-defense. All in all, it was a terrible accident. With the help of his lawyer, he received ten years.

  The articles contained pictures of the victim as well as a mugshot of Finn, his hollow eyes familiar but empty and distant. He was skinnier, a sign of the drug use. His face was dirty, his hands dirtier. He had the same hairstyle, but the similarities ended there. His words echoed in her head: I’m not who I was.

  “Hey.” Asher’s voice called her back to reality from across the room. He’d popped his head in the doorway, staring at her with a bright smile. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m better,” she lied, rubbing her belly. “I’m sorry this has been a lousy last day of vacation. I hope your mom understands.”

  “Of course,” he told her, walking into the room and sitting next to her on the bed with a kiss on her forehead. She closed out of the browser before he could see what she’d been researching. “Everyone understands. I just feel so bad that you’re sick.”

  “Oh, I think it was just a bit of heartburn, maybe. I’m feeling much better already.”

  His eyes lit up. “Are you sure?”

  “Mhm,” she assured him. “Positive.”

  He took her hand in his, leaning in and kissing her lips carefully. “I’m so glad.”

  “Me too,” she told him, resting her head against his.

  “I’m going to load up the car. You ready to head out?”

  “I am.” She nodded.

  “Great, I’ve already gotten everything packed up. I’ll just grab your bag over here.” He stood up, lifting her bag from the floor and looking around the room to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything. “You packed your phone charger already?”

  “It’s in there.”

  “Okay. I think that’s everything, then.” He held out a hand to her. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” she confirmed, taking his hand and slipping the phone into her pocket. He kissed her fingers, leading her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. As the living room came into view, Blythe immediately knew something strange was going on. The cabin’s living room was full of people, all of the family gathered around with flutes of champagne in their hands. No one seemed to be talking, all eyes on them as they descended the staircase.

  Mona rushed forward, surprising Blythe by pulling her into a quick hug. “I’m so sorry that you’ve fallen ill, dear.”

  “Oh, I’m okay. Just a bit queasy. Honestly, it’s probably just from eating too much yesterday. I couldn’t help it with all of the amazing food.”

  Mona patted her chest humbly, though she was obviously proud, pressing her lips into a firm smile as she looked away. “Oh, psssh.” She waved off the praise but smiled again. “Thank you.”

  “What is everyone doing here?” Blythe asked finally, staring around the quiet room.

  “One last tradition before we hit the road,” Asher explained, taking a glass from a table in the corner and handing it to her. He took another for himself, drinking it quickly.

  “Drinking is your family tradition before hitting the road?” Blythe asked, a small smirk on her face. “That seems…appropriate.”

  “Just a glass,” Asher told her. “It’s more for nerves than anything.”

  “Nerves?”

  He looked to his mother, who squeezed Blythe’s arm before making her way back to stand beside Jacob. “Sixty years ago, my grandfather proposed to my Grandmother Lorene, right here, on the Friday after Thanksgiving. Nearly every year since then, someone’s made a huge announcement on this day, right before we leave. My dad proposed to my mom here thirty years ago.”

  “Steve proposed to me there six years ago,” a woman in the back told her, raising her glass. Blythe couldn’t seem to recall her name.

  “We announced this little guy in that spot last year,” another woman said, holding up the baby in her arms. Blythe was pretty sure the baby was called Declan, but she hadn’t spoken to the mother much since they arrived.

  “So, it�
��s kind of an anniversary of sorts, this day, for most of us,” Asher told her, running a hand down her forearm. She took a sip of her wine.

  “That’s sweet,” Blythe said, staring around the room at the large family. Despite her perception of rich New York families, everyone in this room had been nothing but warm and welcoming to her. Asher’s family was truly special. And happy. Happiness seemed to follow them everywhere.

  Asher turned to her then, and Blythe’s stomach dropped, seeing the anxious look on his face. It wasn’t possible. There was no way he was about to…and there he goes. Down on one knee.

  “Blythe, I…” Her heart thudded so loudly in her chest she could hardly hear him. Her face grew hot as she tried to focus and forget about the fact that every eye in the room was on her. Strangers. Asher’s family. People who were counting on her to say ‘yes.’ Yes to a life with a man that she loved. Because…she did love him. There was no doubt in her mind. She loved Asher. But was she ready for this? For a lifetime together?

  It seemed too soon. But wasn’t this exactly what she’d told Finn she wanted just six months ago? A fairy tale. A happily ever after. And Asher was willing to give that to her. To take care of her.

  Focus.

  “I know this is soon. I do. But I love you, Blythe. I love you more than anything else in this life. I never thought I’d want to settle down before I turned thirty…but it doesn’t feel like settling with you. It feels like getting everything I’ve ever wanted. It feels perfect.” She smiled at him, feeling cool tears stinging her eyes at his words. It did feel perfect. It had for so long. The only thing making her doubt that now…was the man walking down the stairs.

  She looked over, watching as Finn came down the stairs beside them. He was obviously the only one in the house not made aware of this plan. His mouth hung open for a moment and he stopped walking. He closed his mouth quickly, meeting her eyes as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Asher was still talking, but she couldn’t hear him. Was Finn going to fight for her? Would he say something? He didn’t move, but no words left his mouth.

 

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