My eyes flit to my mom, who is watching me with motherly concern, and my neck heats with embarrassment. I don’t think the possibility of my mother finding out the truth ever even occurred to me. I think I was so determined to make it all work that I didn’t take the time to consider the consequences if it didn’t. And it’s not that it hasn’t worked. This is a hiccup. I’m confident that Oakleigh will realize that she was pushing me away for a reason other than the one she gave me. I’m confident that after she does, I will have my chance to love her without restraint. I know I will, because I saw the way she looked at me when we were lying in bed. There was nothing dick-matized about it, she was simply falling, and that scared her.
I roll my lips together to buy myself time. I lean against the door frame and try my best to seem as if the looks of those I love isn’t killing me inside.
“I lied because I thought I was making everyone happy,” I say. It’s time I tell the truth. Stop trying to constantly please people and just say it as it is. I’m not perfect, I’m incredibly flawed, and it’s time I stopped trying to make sure that I fit into everyone else’s mold, allowing mine to become rusted and distorted from lack of use. “I lied because I have this innate need to please people for fear that they’ll get rid of me if I don’t.”
Wren’s face softens just a fraction.
With a huff, I move further into the room until I’m able to rest my forearms on the top of the island right opposite my parents. I glance up at them and sigh. “I genuinely am sorry that I lied to you. I hope you won’t be upset with Oakleigh, because I kind of put her in this position where she couldn’t say no.”
“But why, Finley?” my mother asks, her eyes so sad.
I shrug. “Because I’m broken.”
Wren opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off. “Before you say anything, no I’m not using that as an excuse. I’m stating facts. I am broken, but not unlovable. I think part of my problem is that I thought one went hand in hand with the other.”
No one speaks up, so I continue. “I developed OCD because my birth parents had just died in a car accident and then you, my aunt and uncle, came along and took in not just myself, but the little sister I knew it was my responsibility to look out for, just so we could avoid the foster system. I thought I needed to be perfect for you two—not a single rule broken, not a step out of place—because I knew that what you had done for us was a massive sacrifice and an even bigger responsibility. That’s how I’ve been feeling since I was five years old, and it’s absolutely no fault of your own, you guys have given us unconditional love. I put this pressure on myself.”
“So, you said you were dating Oakleigh because you wanted to be perfect?” Gus asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to make sense of my words.
“In part. I said I was dating Oakleigh partly because I didn’t want you to worry, Ma. This whole thing started out as one big, messy faux pas. I never meant to mention the kiss Oakleigh and I shared last year, and when you asked if we were dating, I was so shocked that I did mention it that I couldn’t find the words. Then, I tried to tell you guys that it wasn’t true, and you didn’t believe me. That night I tossed and turned because I couldn’t find a way out of it. And then it occurred to me that I had an opportunity; a chance to give you some relief. I wanted you to stop thinking that I had given up on love, because I never have. I had merely given up on being in love with anyone else.”
“Bullshit,” Wren spits out.
“I’m not lying, Wren!” I understand her anger, really I do, but it’s starting to grate against my nerves, because if she’s this angry with me, then she’s also this angry with Oakleigh and that I’m not accepting. I soften my tone the next time I speak. “Please, don’t be mad with Cherry.”
“I am mad withCherry.” Wren spits out my nickname for her best friend like a bad taste in her mouth.
“Well, I’m saying, don’t be. She didn’t do anything wrong, I dragged her into this.”
“I don’t care if you carried her over your shoulder and tied her hands behind her back to tie her to you, she should have told me.”
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe she never said anything because she was scared you’d react like this? The first time we told you, you weren’t particularly happy.”
“And it looks like I was right to feel that way.”
“Finn, Wren, please!” My mom’s disciplinary voice comes out to play, the one that I haven’t ever heard directed at me. Funnily enough, it’s not causing the wave of anxiety that I expected it would. Now that I think about it, none of this is really causing any of the negative emotions I anticipated. The occasional intrusive thought has broken through the barrier I’ve tried to erect, but none are leading to compulsions. It’s almost as if I can ignore them, or at least decipher the reality from the anxiety.
My mom takes a deep breath and leans on the countertop. “Finn, I understand why you did what you did, but you still lied to me. To us.”
“I understand that, and I truly am sorry that I did, Ma. But I also know that I don’t have a single regret.”
My parents and sister look surprised, and honestly, so am I. Not by what I’ve said, but the ease with which I’m saying it.
“You don’t?” my dad asks, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Not really. I wish that I didn’t feel as if I had to lie. I wish my mind was normal enough—or, at least, intact enough—that I could have just told you the truth and hell, told Oakleigh the truth. The truth that I’ve been desperately in love with her since the moment I met her.”
Dad smiles, Mom’s mouth hangs open, and surprisingly, even Wren’s head whips up. Gus, as usual, remains stoic.
“Really?” Mom asks breathlessly.
I nod. “Always.”
“Then, why?” Gus asks, cool as a cucumber. “Why all of the arguments and the fighting?”
I turn to him, a knowing smile on my face. “There was a time I could have asked you the same question.”
He shrugs and makes a face. “I guess that’s a fair point.”
