She sits up to take a drink of her coffee. I try not to stare at her like a complete nutter.
Good night?
She smirks, looking satisfied in a way that brings me pure relief. Yes, is all she says, but that’s good enough for me.
I sit down next to her and she snuggles further into my side. Fuck, okay, time to make a move Finn.
I was thinking, I say, rubbing a soft tendril of hair between my hands. She takes another sip of coffee and waits for me to go on. I’m going home in two days. I’ve got to make an appearance at my job and all.
I’m trying to keep my voice light—to make this sound casual—because I feel a literal lump forming in the back of my throat. And you’re not sure what you’re doing next, aye? So you should come to Scotland for a bit. And maybe you could figure it out from there.
I am trying not to sound so desperate and pathetic. But I can’t help it.
Say yes.
W-what? Violet sort of stammers it and I can feel my heart plummeting. I feel like I’ve fucked this up already, that maybe I should have waited for her to fully wake up instead of ambushing her first thing in the morning.
In a panic, I try to undo the damage I’ve already done. If you want to, I mean, I know you said you want to figure things out and you’re not ready to go back to your family yet, so I thought…
I’m having an acute sense of deja vu. Some post-coital vulnerability possessing me to open my stupid fucking mouth.
I can’t tell if this is a joke, she says, getting up abruptly and walking over to her suitcase. And if it is, it isn’t funny.
I’m sure a doctor will diagnose me as having actual whiplash from this moment. What the fuck is going on here?
Why would I joke about this? I can hear the defensiveness in my voice, but can’t seem to filter out the edge to my words. This isn’t a joke to me.
No, but it is a game to you, Finn. And this is my life, she turns, looking back at me again, some devastated emotion in her eyes that I can’t place for the life of me. I have no idea where any of this is coming from.
This entire thing has been for you to prove something—to whoever you’re trying to prove it to. That you can do it. That you can be the dream boyfriend. And you win, Finn. Unlike when we play Scrabble, you win. There’s a ringing in my ears now, but Violet goes on.
But I’m not going to be dragged home with you to be used as an up-close-and-personal example, to prove that you can be somebody’s boyfriend. I’ve done enough.
I interrupt her, feeling a flash of rage and trying to keep my voice calm, All right, only, I’m trying to be your boyfriend. What aren’t you understanding about that?
No, you’re not. Not really. Besides, this— she gestures between us, and I flinch, is not real. It can’t be real. You and I run in completely different circles, live completely different lives, not to mention we live a giant ocean and an entire country apart.
Try and explain it to her, some voice in my head urges. That you don’t have to stay in Scotland, that you’ll go anywhere for her. That the only person you’re trying to prove yourself to is her.
But it’s too late—I can feel myself shutting down, building the wall between us brick by brick. Whether she’s capable of understanding it or not, some part of her wants absolutely nothing to do with me, and is grasping at any excuse to push me away.
It was real for me, Violet, I say, in some last-ditch effort that I know she won’t hear. But I say it anyway. This entire time, whether you want to see it or not, it was real for me.
She says nothing, can barely look at me, and turns around to leave.
I don’t follow her out of the cabin.
Chapter 38
VIOLET
FINN GOES BACK TO SCOTLAND, and doesn’t say goodbye.
The days blur together. I hear my own heartbeat in my ears, a constant thrumming: I am miserable. I am utterly miserable, and I don’t know how to make it stop.
Florence comes back from P.E.I. a week later, and her eyes scan over me in a way that makes me feel stripped bare. She says nothing about it, telling me about her trip instead, but I don’t speak to anyone for three days after that.
I walk along the beach for hours. I keep my phone on silent at all times. I don’t let myself think about anything to do with Finn, or my job, or my family.
