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She looked up at him. “How old were you?”
“Thirteen,” he said, keeping his eyes on the photo. “My father stayed in New York that year. It was pure bliss not to have him around.”
Patrick O’Connor had always been nice to her, but she was now beginning to understand how difficult things had been for Finn. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“My father would use any means necessary to inflict pain on me.” He looked closely at her. “He taunted, insulted, and humiliated me at every opportunity. No matter how well I did in school or sports, I always fell short of his expectations. But more than that. He enjoyed inflicting pain, he relished it, and I was terrified of him.”
Colleen had no idea how difficult it had been for him. Finn’s taut expression underscored the seriousness of his revelation. Her parents must have discussed it, but they never mentioned anything about it to Colleen or her brothers. “My dad must have sensed something was wrong.”
“Yeah. He did everything he could to boost my spirits when I visited. When I got older, he would often take me aside to talk. Your father’s kindness helped me in those days.”
The capacity to love had come so easy to her father. “I miss him so much.”
“Me, too.” Finn’s voice was barely a whisper.
Trying to hold back her emotions, Colleen placed the photo back, taking one last look at her father’s enthusiastic grin. A few tears rolled down her cheeks.
Finn stepped closer. “Are you all right?” he asked, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.
Colleen looked up into his eyes and broke down into sobs.
“Hey,” Finn said, taking her in his arms and holding her close. “It’s okay.”
Colleen tucked in closer. She was safe in his embrace, keeping her face against his soft T-shirt while continuing to cry. He’d rejected her in the past, but now he was sensitive and caring. She didn’t want to be tossed away again, but so much had gone wrong in her life lately, she was willing to let herself be comforted, even for just a short time.
The doorbell buzzed.
She burrowed deeper into his T-shirt.
“Colleen?” he whispered into her hair, holding her tighter and stroking her back.
“Hmm?” she didn’t want to leave his protective embrace.
“The extra-large, pepperoni, double mushroom, extra cheese, a little bit of Canadian bacon—but not too much—and there-better-not-be-any-pineapple-on-it-or-I’ll-kick-your-ass pizza, has arrived,” he said with sarcasm.
Colleen pulled away, wiping her eyes. She covered her mouth with a hand, sputtering with laughter.
Finn joined her laughter.
The doorbell buzzed again.
“I feel terrible for laughing when we were talking about my dad,” she said.
Finn cradled her cheeks in his hands. “It’s okay to remember your dad with both tears and laughter. He would’ve wanted you to be happy. Now, let me go get that pizza.”
Colleen took a seat at the rustic wood dining table. It was good to be with someone who had deep connections to her family for a change. As they ate and reminisced, Colleen relaxed in a way she hadn’t in years. Maybe it was the wine or Finn’s willingness to listen to her, either way, her defenses slowly lowered.
“I have a question for you,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I understand you own O’Connor Tower, but why live here if it’s connected to your father? Couldn’t you just sell it and move on?”
“I could sell it.” He took a sip of beer. “I understand how it looks; a poor little rich boy living rent free in the loft of a luxury apartment building. But I see living here as a daily reminder to do better. The rents here are astronomical. After covering the costs of maintenance, employee salaries, taxes, and all the rest, I place the net income in a college fund I created for those families affected by my father.”
Colleen was genuinely impressed by his kindness. “That’s a generous thing to do.”
He raised his chin. His eyes focused on hers with conviction. “It’s the right thing to do. I might live here rent-free, but I’m not a rich guy. Not anymore.”
His father’s fraud clearly had life-changing effects on him. She recalled a couple of his visits to California when he was in middle school, and he would brag about how rich his father was. Sean was mesmerized by these stories with nothing less than hero-worship when Finn talked about their penthouse and chauffeurs. By the time he was in high school, he rarely talked about money.
“So, how can Sean afford to live here?”
