I wouldn’t go forward like this. Couldn’t.
And we couldn’t go back now because we’d done it. The thing I feared the most. We’d ruined the most important friendship in my life. Ruined it by wanting more.
When the realization hit home, I wrapped my arms around my waist, as if my insides might spill out into the air around me if I didn’t physically hold myself together.
I couldn’t lose him. I refused to. I squeezed my eyes shut, racking my brain for another option. What if we broke up now, maybe had a little time apart, then went back to being friends? I’d still have him in my life, he’d still come and go in the future, but it would hurt less when we were just friends again. Wouldn’t it?
Footsteps came from nearby and I froze. Crap. I had to pull myself together. The last thing I needed was to try to explain to one of Finn’s industry colleagues why I was falling apart in one of the museum’s dimly lit corridors. I straightened and locked all my muscles into place, hoping I could remember what normal looked like.
“Hey,” Finn said from a few steps away, his voice low and playful. “When you didn’t come back, I wondered if you might be waiting here for me.” He reached me and threaded his fingers through mine. “Good plan.”
The panic still had its grip on my insides but I managed to squeak out a quick, “Hey.”
He ducked his head, trying to get a better look into my eyes. “Wait, are you okay?”
The worry in his expression almost killed me. How could I even consider breaking his heart? Maybe what I needed was a bit of space to think this through properly. Maybe there was another solution I hadn’t thought of yet. I took a deep, fortifying breath. That was it. Breaking up with the guy I loved was too big to do without having thought about it from every angle.
“Sure,” I said. “I don’t think that garlic canapé agreed with me.”
“Would you like to leave?”
Very much. But this night was about his job and career, so I at least owed it to him to stay while he talked to people. “No, I’m fine now. Really.”
His frown said he didn’t believe me, though I wasn’t sure whether he didn’t believe that I was feeling better, or the whole canapé excuse in the first place.
We didn’t get a chance to talk alone again until the drive home, and even then, the cab of the car was unnaturally quiet. Finn sneaked a glance at me every so often, probably wondering if the canapé was still affecting me and I was going to be sick, and I was doing my best to not think too far ahead.
So I watched the scenery go past and Finn watched the road and traffic. Halfway home, he slid his hand across to find mine and lace our fingers together, and I let him. Holding his hand, being this close, everything felt right, felt good. Being this good together couldn’t be ruined by something as simple as career choices, could it?
I glanced over at his familiar profile as he drove and felt the squeeze in my chest that I always did when I looked at him. And I prayed I’d find a way through this, one that left both our hearts intact.
It had been two days since the museum opening and I still hadn’t thought of a solution. Both alternatives—a life filled with instability, or a life without Finn—filled me with panic. At night I’d been having dreams about floating in the darkness of outer space, trapped in a spacesuit that provided only stale, recycled air, not able to leave the suit or I’d die, still hoping to stumble across a way to get back to solid Earth beneath my feet. There had to be a compromise. I just hadn’t come up with one yet.
Finn clearly knew something was up, but I’d managed to divert him when I could tell he was about to ask. It was an awful way to treat him, and I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t truly need the headspace to work out what to do. And now the guilt about lying by omission was pressing down on me, too.
So I’d headed out at lunchtime and ordered him a desk. A gorgeous, wooden desk with carved legs and edges. As soon as I’d seen it, I knew he’d love it, and the store had been able to deliver, which was perfect.
I’d managed to duck out of work twenty minutes early to meet the delivery man, and I was in the middle of transferring his accumulated piles of books and paper and crap from the dining table to the new desk. If it was to be an apology-present, then I wanted it set up for maximum effect when he saw it.
The front door opened and Billie and Amelia came in, laughing and chatting, then they both stopped and stared at the new desk.
“Wow,” Amelia said. “That is so cool. Does Finn know?”
I shook my head as I gathered all the random pens, pencils, and highlighters together and shoved them in a mug. “It’s a surprise.”
“Good thinking.” Billie came over and ran a hand over the smooth finish on the wood. “Now we’ll be able to actually dine at the dining table.”
I picked up a folded piece of paper and opened it to check which pile it should go on, but as I started reading, a sense of dread crept up from my toes, covering me like a cape. The letter was yet another offer to join an archeological dig, and it was clear from the wording that this wasn’t the first time Finn and this person had discussed it. The letter promised future work when Finn was ready.
Blindly, I reached for the other pieces of folded paper that had been with the first, and found more letters. More offers. Again from people Finn had clearly been talking to about future prospects.
My knees buckled and I sank down into a chair, gripping the letters like my life depending on them.
“Are you okay?” Billie sounded as if she were far away.
I won’t be in a position to travel overseas for a couple of years. If you have any openings on teams after that, I’d be more than interested.
“Yes,” I said, trying not to let my voice tremble.
I’ve spent years studying this stuff. Of course I’d like to be part of actual discoveries as they happen.
And suddenly I knew. There was no compromise. This was something he wanted to do, had already been talking to people about doing.
There were only two ways this played out if we stayed together—either I became a nervous wreck, living as if I was trapped in the spacesuit with no solid ground under my feet, or Finn gave up on his dream.
Both were intolerable. Both would drive us apart.
Amelia came closer. “Are you sure? You don’t look well.”
Startled by her tone, I looked up. I was scaring Amelia. Of course, that would be nothing compared to the effect of what I had to do next.
On unsteady legs, I stood and looked at Finn’s sisters one at a time. “I’m really sorry, but I think I have to leave.”
Chapter Seventeen
Finn
I arrived home to find the three women in my life sitting in a row on the sofa: Amelia on one end with red eyes and Harvey leaning against her legs, Billie on the other end, shooting me accusing glances, and Scarlett in the middle with a suitcase at her feet.
My heart jolted. Something had happened. As I closed the door behind me, I ran through every scenario that could have occurred since I’d seen them all at breakfast. Amelia had been at school. Billie had worked today, and it was her night to cook. I’d sent her a text earlier saying I’d be late since I’d gained access to a rare book at the state library when someone else pulled out, and she’d replied to the text, so I knew she’d received it and everything was okay.
Scarlett had also worked today, and tonight she was… I had no idea what she was doing tonight. Maybe we’d had plans? My stomach went into freefall. Had I forgotten her like she’d always accused me of forgetting the other girls I’d dated?
My gaze returned to the suitcase and panic began to close in, blackness descending on all sides. Forgetting plans was the only thing that made sense, but even now I couldn’t remember anything I’d missed.
“Scarlett,” I said, but my throat was too tight to get more words out.
“Tell her,” Amelia pleaded. “Explain it. Don’t let her leave.”
Tell her what? Surely she wouldn’t leave m
e for forgetting one night? There had to be more to it. I’d screwed up about something, obviously, but she couldn’t walk away. Abandon me. Everything in the room seemed unreal, a two-dimensional facade, and I couldn’t get my body to work. Except my lungs—they were working too fast.
And then I remembered—Scarlett had been distant for a couple of days. I’d tried to talk to her about it, but she’d fobbed me off. I’d figured it was a problem at work and she’d tell me when she was ready. It was obviously much bigger than I’d realized.
Billie said something. I didn’t hear what it was, but it brought my attention to her. “Billie.” I took my wallet from my back pocket and handed it to her. “Take Amelia out for burgers.”
“We’ve had dinner,” she said, grabbing Scarlett’s hand.
“Then take her for ice cream.” She didn’t move, so I added, “Please.” I needed some time alone with Scarlett so I could fix this. Whatever it was, I had to fix this. I couldn’t lose her.
Billie looked to Scarlett, who nodded. “Come on, Amelia,” she said, standing. “We’re going for ice cream.”
Amelia reluctantly stood. “Can Harvey come?”
“Sure,” Billie said, looking at me, daring me to disagree. “We’ll take Finn’s car.”
She put her hand out and I dropped my keys in her palm, not caring what she did to my car, as long as I could talk to Scarlett and make things right.
Once the door closed, I took a step toward her, my knees nowhere near steady. But I stopped. There was an invisible wall between us now. She’d put it there, but I must have given her the materials to build it. So I stood awkwardly, my heart racing unevenly in my chest.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said cautiously. “I was given short notice that I could access a rare book on Mesopotamian music that was on loan to the library, and I had to take the opportunity.”
Her face expressionless, she nodded. “Of course you did.”
Expressionless Scarlett made me nervous.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Finn.” She turned away and I couldn’t see her expression, but her hand waved at the far wall. “I bought you a present today.”
Confused at the abrupt change in topic, I glanced in the direction she was pointing. A desk stood against the wall. A huge, solid, wooden desk, which held piles of my books and papers, probably in the neatest order they’d ever been in.
“You bought me a desk?” Moving closer, I ran my hand along the smooth edge. “Thank you.”
I tried to sound grateful because it was a great gift, but I was too preoccupied trying to piece all the parts of this puzzle together. Nothing seemed to fit, as if I were trying to complete a jigsaw with a deck of cards.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” She still sat on the sofa, somewhat stiffly, altogether untouchable.
“It is,” I said, still wary.
“When I was moving your things from the table to the desk, I found some letters offering you fieldwork.” There was no malice in her, just sadness.
I swore under my breath at myself, then a little at the ancient gods for good measure. “Okay.”
“I can’t do this, Finn.” She rose to her feet, her spine straight, and crossed her arms. She was magnificent and everything I wanted.
“Come on, Scarlett. You’re not really leaving because of some letters, are you?” There was a pleading note in my voice, but I didn’t care. Self-respect was a low priority in the circumstances. “I turned them down.”
“You turned these down,” she said, her voice wobbling. “But there will be more.”
I took a small step in her direction. “We’ll face that when we come to it.”
“The only thing worse than a life spent moving around from place to place is the uncertainty of knowing it’s in the future, but never knowing when. Waiting for the axe to fall. Praying it won’t happen. Hoping you changed your dream, then hating myself for being so selfish. We can’t live like that. I can’t live like that, with that level of uncertainty… That was my entire life until you found me. I can’t do it again. I’ll become brittle and bitter. But the thing is, Finn—I love you. I’d never want you to give up on your dream, not for anything. Especially not for me.”
I opened my mouth to say something, though I had no idea what. Just something that would stop what was happening. But she held up a hand.
“Please just let me say all this.” I nodded and she continued. “So the options here are that we stay together and you give up your dream, or we stay together and I’m unhappy.”
I could see where she was going, but it was like watching a runaway train and being helpless to do anything to stop it. My mind screamed no, even before she said the words.
“There’s no good choice there, Finn.”
The panic was rising again, threatening to engulf me. “Don’t leave me.”
For a fraction of a second her face crumpled, then she caught it and found a neutral expression again. “I love you. More than I’ve loved anyone or anything in my entire life. But I have to go.”
“Nothing about this is right. Not a thing.”
“I’m really sorry, Finn.” She pushed her blue glasses up to the bridge of her nose and didn’t meet my gaze. “I just can’t see a future for us that doesn’t end in crashing and burning. At least if I go now, we won’t hate each other.”
She picked up the small suitcase and headed for the door. Before she could reach it, I stepped in her path, not sure what I was doing, but knowing I couldn’t let her walk through it.
“I’m asking—no begging—you not do this.”
“Please don’t make this any harder.” She turned her tortured eyes to me. “It’s already tearing me in two.”
I was standing, rooted to the spot, scrambling for something to say to make her stay, paralyzed by her asking me not to, when she blinked a few times in quick succession and walked around me and out the door.
She paused and said, “I’ll be at Cathy’s if you need me,” then she was gone.
A sickening sense of déjà vu overtook me and I was transported back to the day I’d heard the people I’d loved most in the world had left me, that my parents had been killed in an accident. And now it had happened again—the person I loved most in the world had walked out on me. I turned and ran for the bathroom, then threw up until my stomach, my ribs, my chest, everywhere was in as much pain as my heart.
A week after Scarlett left and I still felt like throwing up most of the time. I made it through tutorials on autopilot and tried to lose myself in history books the way I had when my parents died. Only this time it wasn’t working.
It turned out to be a major blessing Billie was still home—she dealt with anything Amelia needed so they could give me a wide berth. Of course, Billie was doing that partly out of consideration, but mainly because she was pissed at me for screwing things up with Scarlett. She didn’t know the details, but she was certain it was my fault. And she was right. I should have been able to fix it, to find a compromise that suited us both.
I barely slept more than three hours a night—kept awake by the replay of my time with Scarlett, over and over, either desperately clinging to the good times or beating myself up about the end, depending on my mood.
A knock at my office door announced Rakesh’s arrival.
“Hey, Rakesh,” I said, dropping my pen and rubbing my tired eyes. “What can I do for you?”
“I need cheering up and thought you were the man for the job.”
Confused, I stared at him until he rolled his eyes. “They were right in the staff room. You really are in bad shape.”
My stomach pitched. My life was already in the gutter, the last thing I needed was to lose my job as well.
“What are they saying?”
“Just that something’s wrong with you and I should be the one to make you snap out of it.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “And how are you plann
ing on doing that? Because if it’s possible, I’d love to know.”
He shrugged. “I’m an academic, not a psychologist. I was hoping you’d tell me your tale of woe, I’d commiserate, we’d drink beer, and it’d be over.”
“You’re going to need a bigger plan.”
“Oh, hell,” he said, and slid into the chair at the desk beside me. “It really is serious, isn’t it?”
For a few seconds I contemplated brushing him off, but Rakesh had stood by me when my parents died and ever since. He deserved the truth.
Picking a spot on the wall so I didn’t have to meet his gaze, I braced myself to say her name aloud for the first time since she’d left.
“Scarlett and I moved things beyond friendship and started dating, and it was amazing. Right up until I screwed it up. She’s moved out and I haven’t seen her since.”
“Shit. I don’t know if you’re my hero for dating Scarlett, or if I’m disgusted with you for losing her.”
I flinched. “Thanks. Your support is appreciated.”
“Who left who?”
“She left me.”
“What did you do to stop her? Or get her back?”
“Not so much.”
“For Poseidon’s sake, man, why not?”
The same question had been thumping through my brain for seven days and nights. Even if I convinced her to give me another chance, I knew deep down it was the wrong thing to do.
“There’s one thing Scarlett craves above all else. Stability. She grew up constantly moving around with her hippie parents, and all she’s ever wanted to do was put down roots in a house that’s stocked with kitchen appliances and furniture that can’t be folded up and packed in the back of a car. I’ve always known that about her, but I hadn’t realized how deep that ran until recently.”
Rakesh’s forehead was creased for a long beat, then it cleared as if understanding had dawned. “You’re planning a career in fieldwork?”
The Finn Factor Page 20
