It should have been done a long time ago. I’m good.
“Who are you texting?”
I jump. Frannie has appeared behind me in the kitchen, and she’s eyeing me carefully as if she’s worried I’ll burst into tears at any given moment.
“Evan texted me,” I say truthfully. “He wants to talk.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
“Of course.”
“Then you should. We’re here to support you, Finley.”
I reach my arms out to volunteer a hug. I almost think Frannie needs it more than me. She looks devastated on my behalf, and I feel guilty as hell.
Given that I never offer hugs, she looks delighted, and I feel slightly less horrible.
While she’s reaching to pull down wine glasses, I get another text, this one from Christopher.
I’m sorry. Are you okay? I feel like a complete asshole this has blown back on you.
I’m fine, but you can make it up to me.
How is that?
I bite my lip. I want to say this. I need to say this. It’s a fantasy that has taken hold, and I can’t let go.
The three of us. You, me, Evan. One night together.
Before I can hit send, my phone rings, cutting off my text screen. It’s my brother, Ford.
I decide to answer it because he’ll just keep calling. “Hi Ford. I’m okay, and no, I don’t need a contract killer.”
“I wouldn’t hire it out. I will do it myself if you say the word.”
I roll my eyes, and Frannie raises her eyebrows. “What is he saying?” she asks.
Ford is talking again, and Fiona is calling something out from the living room, and I can’t focus on what anyone is saying. It also hits me that Fiona and Kyle are now sitting very, very close together and my sister’s hand is on Kyle’s thigh.
What the hell? Do they know each other?
The front doorbell rings. Fiona gets up to answer it.
“No one is going to hurt Evan. He lost his job. That’s punishment enough.”
“Is it?” Ford asks. “Because I can think of a few things that would hurt more.”
“Stop, seriously. And how dare any of you label me as the dramatic one in this family?”
“Look,” Fiona says, holding up a bag by the front door. “Dad sent six pints of your favorite ice cream. When Dad doesn’t have the right words, he sends mint chocolate chip.”
That actually makes me tear up.
My family loves me.
And for the first time since I got back, I’m really, really glad to be home.
It’s late, really late, when I finally get up the nerve to hit send on my text to Christopher.
