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“It’s worn on me and worn on me, but that doesn’t excuse what I did. That doesn’t make it right or fair. I deserve that burden. I deserve worse. But don’t think that I’ve felt like I’ve gotten away with—” His mouth quirked a second before he closed his eyes and shook his head. “—gotten away with murder,” he finished.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, folding my arms across my belly and hugging my elbows.
Of all the goddamn days for Finn to need to confess to whatever the hell it was that was going on, he had to pick this one?
I wasn’t even sure if I had the mental capacity to deal with this, well, whateverthiswas, and truthfully, I knew I had to. Not because Finn clearly needed to get this off his chest, but because as much as that was true, he was struggling to do that.
Struggling to confess.
That really amped up my nerves.
“Will starting at the beginning help?”
“Where’s the beginning?” he exclaimed, and then he stunned the hell out of me—he spun away from me and screamed, “WHERE’S THE MOTHERFUCKING BEGINNING?”
Brow puckered, I ground out, “Finn? What the hell?”
I almost moved closer to tug on his jacket, but he twisted back to look at me, and out of nowhere, there was a chasm between us.
It was wider than the Grand Canyon and just as impossible to cross.
At that moment, I felt more alone than I had in years.
After we met, I’d been lucky, I knew. I’d been swallowed up by his family. Absorbed into them. I wasn’t used to feeling this way, and I didn’t like it.
It happened in a glance.
Without a single word uttered.
That was when he started to break my heart.
“I don’t know where to goddamn start, Aoife. I don’t fucking know. So many goddamn lies, so many secrets. It’s starting to be like some kind of—” He dragged his hands through his hair. “I don’t have all the answers. I just… what I’m about to tell you is literally all I know, you understand?”
Warily, I whispered, “Okay.”
“Nothing’s okay, Aoife.” His jaw clenched. “When I’m done, when I’ve told you everything, I’ll leave, and I won’t come back—” Finn sucked in a breath, seeming to correct himself. “I won’t come backuntilyou let me in.”
A gasp escaped me. “You’re scaring me, Finn!”
Finn—leaving? Finn didn’t do things like that!
“I deserve nothing less than for you to toss me out but, please, baby, please don’t ask me for a divorce. I can’t give you that. I can’t. I’m incapable of—”
I rushed at him, and though he was taller than me, bigger and heavier as well, I surged onto tiptoe, grabbed his shoulders, and I shook him. It barely moved him, but I did it again.
“STOP IT,” I snapped. “STOP IT. Tell me what the hell’s going on.”
“I know who killed your mother.” His nostrils flared. “I’ve known for years.”
For a second, I stared at him. Just stared.
Then I bit off, “Who?”
I’d break down later.
What was more grief on top of what I’d learned today?
My throat clutched so hard I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry or puke, but as I stared at him, waiting for him to answer, rage bubbled up out of nowhere.
