Sleep doesn’t come. My head’s too full. My chest too empty.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
BLAIR
I toy with the last forkful on my plate, appetite gone even though dinner was good. Normally I’d have finished everything—especially the mashed potatoes, or “mash” as Lachlan and Finn call it—but tonight I can’t. My stomach’s been in knots for hours, bracing for this moment.
Finn scrapes his chair back from the kitchen table, his plate cleared. “Can I go play now?”
“Hold on, lad,” Lachlan says. “Before you run off, there’s something we need to talk about.”
God. Here we go.
“Oh.” Finn settles back into his chair and looks between his dad and me with curious eyes. “Okay. What?”
Lachlan turns to me. Looks like I’m the one who has to break the news. Fair enough. Makes sense, I suppose.
“Remember earlier, when you had quiet time in the living room because I had to do a video call?”
Finn nods, swinging his legs under the table.
“Well...” I take a breath, my hands twisting in my lap. “I was speaking with someone about a job back home in New York.”
The call had been a formality, really. Nora made it clear the position was mine if I wanted it—senior editor, bettersalary than I’ve ever had, a chance to rebuild everything I lost. And after my conversation with Lachlan last night, with him congratulating me and telling me what excellent timing it was, I said yes.
“A job?” Finn’s voice is small, uncertain.
“You’re going back to school soon, and you won’t need a nanny anymore.” I force myself to meet his eyes, even though it feels like my heart is cracking apart.
The light in his brown eyes dims. He glances at his dad, then back to me. “But... I thought...”
Lachlan reaches over and squeezes his son’s shoulder. “We knew this was coming, lad.”
Finn swallows, trying to hold it together, trying to be brave. “When?”
“Thursday,” I say gently. “The same day you go back to school.”
His eyes widen. “But... this is Tuesday! You mean you’re only here tomorrow, and then you’re gone?”
His voice cracks on the last word, and I feel like I’ve just kicked a puppy. Speaking of which, Gus chooses this moment to pad over from his blanket in the corner, whining softly like he’s picked up on the mood. He rests his golden head on Finn’s lap, and Finn’s small hand automatically moves to stroke his fur.
The sight of them both looking so sad nearly undoes me. I glance at Lachlan, hoping for some support. His face stays steady for Finn’s sake, but his jaw is tight, his eyes shadowed.
“You can hang out with Blair all day tomorrow, lad,” he says.
“But what aboutThe Otter and the Boy?” Finn blurts. “You haven’t finished it yet!”
“I’ll . . . I’ll email your dad the ending.”
Finn’s look says it all. Not good enough. Then, more softly, he says, “Will you come back to visit, at least?”
My throat tightens. The question hangs in the air between us, and I don’t know how to answer it. Because how can I promise something I’m not sure I can deliver? Leaving is going to hurt, and coming back would tear the wound wide open again. For me. For them.
After dinner, I slip back to the granny flat to collect Gerald. He’s still on the windowsill, looking a bit neglected. Poor guy. I’ve barely been here the past few weeks—he’s probably bored out of his mind. Well, time to fix that.
“Come on, buddy,” I murmur, carefully lifting his pot. “Let’s find you a new home.”
Now that I’ve broken the news to Finn, I’ve got a bunch of other folk to tell. Might as well start with the closest: Flora.
