Chapter 6
Finn, 6 months later
The exact nightmare I was witnessing was the reason I had put off this dinner for so long. Once my stepbrother found out I was dating a Carmichael, it became all about how he could use my connection to their good family name for himself. It didn’t bother him that Winnie’s family barely tolerated me when I was invited for Sunday dinners at their house, or that more often than not they declined Win’s ask to go on a date with me; he just wanted more power. I put him off for months until Winnie grasped my hand and said she would do it for me. I should have known it would be a disaster.
My father is slumped in his chair, blood gushing around his nose, where Rose just slapped him with her wine bottle. Declan is sitting back, scraping corn from the tablecloth while everyone else in the room is rushing around to try and assist my father. Rose continues to get on her knees on the table, swearing and yelling at him. I freeze, completely disassociating from the scene, from the belief that maybe for one evening, things could be normal. My neck feels hot, and my stomach burns with embarrassment. I can feel when Winnie slips her hand intomine, and when her gentle fingers squeeze around mine, I finally snap out of it. Her face is pale when our gazes connect.
“Let’s get out of here.” I manage to get the words out around the thick ball of regret and humiliation that's lodged in my throat.
She nods, and like the sweetheart she is, she gives me a small, encouraging smile. She doesn’t make a fuss over the shards of glass that are sprinkled in our laps or the dots of red wine that are sprinkled across her pale lilac sweater dress. I know it will most likely stain, and my stomach clenches with disdain for Rose and my father. They couldn’t hold their animosity and hatred for each other for one dinner. They’d rather look like complete assholes than make a good impression, as my parents, as community members, who face enough discrimination.
I don’t acknowledge any of them, ignoring Declan’s protests that we’re leaving. I just get up and get Winnie out of there. She never lets go of my hand while I lead her back through the house and out the front door. My feet move quickly, and I know she’s practically running to keep up with my stride. I need the fresh, chilled, spring air. I can’t breathe inside this mausoleum of alcoholics and toxic relationships. We don’t stop to speak when I hand her helmet to her, watching as she latches it carefully, before helping her get on the back of my bike. Winnie’s arms banding around my waist is my only comfort as we hightail it out of the driveway, spraying up loose rock and asphalt, as we speed back through town toward her home.
My body vibrates with pent-up frustration and agony. No matter how much I try to blink the image away, I can still see the look of surprise on Winnie’s face, followed by the swift flash of pity in her eyes. I knew it was a bad idea to subject her to dinner at my house. I had fought Declan on it, knowing deep down that it would turn into a shitshow. When Winnie offered, I crumbled right away because, deep down, I always wished that my familywas normal enough to bring my girl around. Self-loathing rolls through me. This was a mistake. Bringing Winnie around the darkness that is my family should never have happened. I never want to see her look at me that way again.
I slow my motorcycle down a few houses down from hers, knowing her parents will flip a lid if they see her riding on the back. While my parents are toxic, Winnie’s just happen to be very old-fashioned and strict with her. After cutting the engine, I help her off the back and secure our helmets before taking her hand in mine. Usually, I like to walk her to the door, hoping her parents can see how much she means to me, and because it prolongs our time together. Tonight, though, I wish I didn’t have to hide the fact that I drive a motorcycle or that their daughter is a natural rider. I wish I could just pull up, drop her off, and make an excuse to get as far away as I can.
My hand feels tight and clammy in hers. Dirty. I shouldn’t have the right to touch her or call her mine after the disgraceful display my family put on over a family dinner. Winnie deserves so much more than what I can offer her. I don’t speak until we reach her front door, and neither does she. I wouldn’t blame her if she’s planning a break-up speech in her head right now. Maybe I should let her go. Except, the thought of that instantly causes pain in my chest that makes it hard to breathe.
“Finn—”
“Listen—”
We both turn to speak at the same time. Winnie’s eyes light up, and a smile curves her lips before a small laugh escapes. Her happiness is fucking contagious, and I can’t help but smile as well while rocking back on my heels. I feel so out of my depth right now. I’m so unsure about what will happen now that she has seen the ugly truth.
“You go first,” she says, her hand resting gently on my arm. I shove my hands in my pockets, my head hanging down. I can’t meet her knowing gaze, and I’m fucking embarrassed by it.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Win. My parents are horrible, and my brother thrives in the drama. I thought maybe they could pull it together for a night, but I was wrong. And I’m sorry about your dress; I’ll pay to get it cleaned or whatever you need. I’ll buy a new one?—”
“Finn,” she giggles, stepping closer to me, “Stop.”
I cut off my words, feeling the knot in my chest loosen. Her eyes are warm, and while I see concern in their depths, I don’t see the pity I’m used to. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head, her blonde curls swishing against her jacket. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong, Finn. You aren’t like them.”
Her words smack against the wall I’ve built up around myself when it comes to the people I call family. My eyes drop to the ground, but that doesn’t stop her from moving closer to me, her hands holding onto my sides. “They’re still my family.”
Her shoulders lift, and she shrugs. “We can’t help who we’re born to.”
I want to believe her. I want to sink further into her hold and feel the comfort and understanding that she radiates. One thing will always be true: she’s too good for me. My breath shudders, the cool air feeling like ice in my throat. “My family will never change. Your parents will never accept people like them.”
Winnie pulls back, a light blush covering her cheeks, but I see the instant fire in her eyes. “Why does that matter? Who cares if my parents never like them? You’re all that matters, Finn.”
“I’m part of them, Win. I’ll always be a Kinsella. My name and my family will drag you down. Your parents would be smart to keep you away from me.” Anger and heat flood my chest, but it’s the look on her face that almost breaks me the most.
“What are you trying to say, Finn? It sounds an awful lot like you’re trying to break up with me right now.”
I shake my head in denial even while that voice in my mind tells me it would be the best thing for her to end it now. My heart thuds against my rib cage painfully at the thought. I love this girl. I know without a doubt she’s the best thing that's ever happened to me, which only reinforces the idea that I need to protect her from me.
“I don’t know.” I breathe out the words, and they feel like fire, burning everything inside of me. Her hands slip from mine, and her breathing deepens.
“Look at me at least. If you’re going to break my heart, at least look me in the eyes.”
My gaze jumps to hers, hating the pain and firmness of her voice. I’m making a mistake. My emotions wage a war inside me, but I do what she asks. “I don’t want to break your heart.”
“Then why are you breaking up with me? I don’t care about what happened at dinner, Finn. I care about you. I —”
“Is there a problem here?” Winnie’s dad pulls the door open, his frown deepening as his eyes, much like his daughter’s, swing from her to me.
