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Cymbeline
That night, I danced with Viktor to the melodious music put forth by my sister and the man she secretly loved. I also danced with my father and Theo, who told me how proud they were of me. Only Flynn remained aloof. Finally, after my feet were tired, I went back to the kitchen to see if I could snag one last morsel of food, but the staff had closed down and were out dancing and enjoying themselves.
I was about to return to the party when I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. Flynn was in the office with his feet up on the desk.
I knocked on the doorframe. He looked up from whatever paperwork had kept his attention.
“Hey, Cym.”
“What're you doing back here? The party’s still going strong.” Or he could go home to his wife. I kept that to myself. Our relationship was tenuous at best, and I didn't want to alienate him.
“I didn't feel much like celebrating.”
“Are you mad at me about the competition?” Was that why he was back here? Pouting because I'd gone ahead and done something he didn't want me to?
“Nah. I'm proud of you. Sounds like you're the town hero for that and the other thing.”
I inspected the tips of my shoes. I'd changed out of my disguise into a sparkly dress and dancing shoes. Fiona had quickly fixed my hair for me, sticking a tiara into my curls. A little powder, blush, and lipstick, and I felt like a proper girl. “I guess I'm braver dressed in knickers.”
“You've always been brave. Knickers or no.” He pulled out a drawer and reached inside for a flask. “You want a drink?”
“No, thank you.” I peered at him. “Are you feeling better?”
“Nothing to complain about.” He took a swig.
“Besides my antics, the event seemed to be a success.”
“We had a good day.” He gestured toward the stack of receipts on his desk. “A lot of food sold. Papa paid for the party, which makes up for a night without the underground club.”
I'd been surprised they'd closed the club but had been too busy all day to think about why.
“Mama asked me to shut it down tonight,” Flynn said, as if I'd asked. “This seems to be the month for losing money.”
“I'm sorry about everything that happened. Losing the distillery must…” What was the word? I actually didn't know at all how he felt about anything. His expression was like a “closed for business” sign.
“It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. The bleakness in his tone filled me with a sense of foreboding.
“Shannon's still mad at me.” He took another drink from his flask. “I've been sleeping here at the club.”
“Oh.” She'd asked him to stay away from their own home? I'd known she was miffed but figured she'd be over it by now. It had been three weeks. That was a long time to stay mad, especially at Flynn. “What are you going to do?”
He shrugged and put his feet back up on his desk. “I've no idea.” He went quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. “Cym, I've been lucky all my life. But I think maybe it's run out. I've made a mess of everything, and a man like me doesn't know how to fix it.”
“A man like you? You're the finest of men.”
He made a noise at the back of his throat. “No, I'm not. Phillip, Papa, and Theo are fine men. Viktor and Isak, the best. Me? I'm foolish, selfish, and impulsive. Add greedy to the list too.”
“You made a mistake, that's all. Everyone does. There's no reason a mistake should make you feel like a bad man.”
He gave me a long look before speaking. “Do you remember how mad Jo was at me after the war? For dragging Theo over there with me?”
I nodded, inwardly cringing as a memory of their argument after Theo's breakdown came to me. I'd worried they'd never be friends again. “That was all a long time ago. Jo never thinks about it anymore.”
“She might. We don't know. Regardless, I think of it. Every day. I think about how Theo could've been killed over there and I'd have never forgiven myself. The rest of you wouldn't have either. You think a secret distillery is bad? Think about if I'd come home without Theo.”
“But you didn't. All's well that ends well.”
“That's just it, Cym. It isn't. I've not belonged in our family since then. I can see them all thinking about what a mess I am. How poisonous I am.”
“Not true. We all love you. If you'd seen how everyone fell apart when we thought we might lose you—you would never think such a thing.”
“The world would be better off without me. You all would be. Shannon would have had a better life with someone else.”
My stomach churned. How could he think these things? I grappled with what to say. How could I convince someone in such obvious despair that he was wrong?
His eyes filled. “What if Shannon won't take me back? I can't go on without her. She and the babies are the best part of me. I’m without an anchor.” He drank once more from his flask. When he put it down on the desk, I saw myself distorted in the metal surface.
