This explains the roses and Finn’s surprise visit to my office. He has a possessive streak. I don’t know what to think about the fact that I’m not angry with him. I’ve proven the last few weeks—I’m not all that unhappy about being possessed by him. “When you know, you know.”
“How can you know anything? You’re not yourself right now.”
“Maybe I am.” I touch my chest. “I need to figure out who I am without my meds. You obviously can’t respect that, but you don’t have to.”
“It’s not about respect. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret, to make a . . .”
“Mistake?” I finish.
Rich closes his mouth. He looks surprised by what he just said, but I’m not.
“You don’t have to bite your tongue around me anymore,” I say. “You can blame me. My dad does.”
His face falls. “Jesus, Halston. You act like you and I are on different sides. What you can’t seem to understand is that I care about you. That’s why I want you to be well.”
“You want me to be easy. Calm. That’s what you care about.”
“Is that so bad? Being stable? Not drinking too much wine or beating yourself up over what happened ten years ago or making bad decisions.”
Bad decisions. Rich would think this life I’m building with Finn is bad. Posing half-nude for a man I met less than a month ago and putting the pictures online—it sounds bad, but it doesn’t feel that way. “You have no idea what I’m like without them.Idon’t know what I’m like without them. I’ve never had the chance to find out.”
“Yes you did, and to be blunt, Halston, it was a shit-show. Do I have to remind you how we nearly lost a big account because of that dinner?”
I cross my arms. I’m ready to be done with this conversation. “No.”
“You can be reckless, which is why someone has to look out for you. Someone who knows your past.” He runs a hand over his face. “Why do you think your dad has done all this? It’s for your mom.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Maybe it bothers you that we didn’t meet some other way. Or that I’m not some bad boy who wants to help you over the edge. But I’m good for you, and I can give you a good life. That’s what your dad wants, if not for himself or you, then for her . . .”
I stop listening. My dad orchestrated all this for her. Setting me up with Rich, letting me create my own position at work, handing us the reins. Maybe it was a conscious choice, maybe it wasn’t, but he’s trying to give me a life that would’ve made my mom happy. And I’m rejecting it.
On some level, I suppose I knew. I played along, because it meant we could keep sweeping things under the rug. It meant neither of us had to say what we truly believed.
If it weren’t for me, she’d still be alive.
And if she were, what would she think of the choices I’ve been making?
Would she be proud that I’m taking back the reins? Or, like Rich, would she think I’m in the midst of another giant mistake?
22
Idash down the hall to Finn’s room, squealing as champagne erupts from the bottle in my hands. “It’s spilling everywhere,” I cry over my shoulder.
“That’s because you’re running,” he calls after me.
I get to his bathroom sink, holding it over the drain. “Bring the glasses.”
“Got ’em.” He comes in behind me and takes the bottle. Once he pours two glasses, he kisses me on the mouth. “Drink up. It’s almost midnight.”
“Should we have stayed at the bar?” I ask, pouting. “Are we old farts for coming home before the ball dropped?”
“I don’t know about you, but I had my fill of twenty-dollar cocktails and sweaty bodies. You are, without a doubt, the only person I’d brave New Year’s Eve in the city for.”
“Aww.” I rise to the tips of my toes for another kiss, but I sway and spill champagne down the front of my multi-colored sequined dress.
“Perfect. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get you out of that,” Finn says, laughing. “Did you I tell you how jaw-droppingly beautiful you looked tonight?”
