Maybe I should have put up more of a fight when Finn declared it was time to go. Maybe I should have insisted more on staying at the clubhouse. All I could picture, though, was Marco storming in and hurting the people I used to think of as family and friends. Finn had been right when he said that I deserved to have my life back. In order to do that, I needed to fight back in my own way, which meant taking the protection I was being offered. I wasn’t naive enough to think that I could handle Marco on my own, and I wasn’t going to put everyone and myself in more danger. I could stick this out for now. And when it was over, I could go back to the life I had been building for myself.
So, I walked out of the room with my head held high and let myself be ushered into a truck that I’m assuming was Finn’s. I was surprised he didn’t have his bike, and I was relieved as well. Those memories, the good ones of all the times I hopped on the back of his bike, of the joy on his face when he bought it, would have hit me tenfold. I might have chickened out if that had been the case. Maybe Finn thought the same thing, and it was his wayof making sure this went smoothly. No matter, I was thankful it had worked out this way.
Finn had said his cabin was secluded, and he hadn’t lied. At first, I think maybe it’s just farther back on the compound, until he pulls out through the gate. We don’t head into town, but take a road going in the opposite direction, farther into rolling fields that eventually turn into a sprawling forest. My eyes slide to Finn’s, wondering if he’s zoned out and missed our stop, only to find him completely at ease and present while he watches the scenery around us. Suddenly, a green iron gate appears on the left side of the road, and the truck slows to a stop, pulling into the gravel at the entrance. Finn gets out of the truck and unlocks the gate before getting back in to drive us through, then going back to lock it up again.
There’s a narrow path that leads through the thickest part of the trees, big enough for one vehicle to get through at a time, and barely visible. It's another two miles through the trees before we reach a clearing, and the huge log cabin comes into view. Finn pulls up in front of a garage on the only slab of concrete around and parks. He glances at me like he wants to say something before clamping his jaw closed and opening his door.
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”
Unclipping my seatbelt, I’m a little slower to get out, too busy taking in my surroundings. There’s a wood pile to the side of the house covered by a tarp, and a front patio that has a single grill out front. What hurts the most, though, is the large front porch with the matching chairs and coffee table, and the robin egg blue front door. There are huge bay windows facing the front yard as well, windows I had fallen in love with at eighteen and pinned to my Pinterest board on my cell phone. Windows that I had only gushed about to one other person. My eyes slide to Finn, but he’s studiously ignoring me, heading up the front porch stairs and placing his thumb over what looks to be a lock on the door.
“I’ll get your thumbprint programmed as well so you can lock it behind you if I’m not here,” he murmurs before opening the door.
I follow him inside and feel my heart pound with anger and something else I can’t name. Tears sting my eyes and threaten to spill. He remembered everything.
“You can’t have the living room that close,” Finn chuckles at me and takes the small sketch I had made. “There won’t be any room for the huge ass farm table if the dining room is that small.”
Giggling, I turn to him in our bed and sling my arm over his chest. “Okay then, you draw it for me. But remember the?—”
“The windows,” he sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes.
I playfully smack him on the shoulder. “Just wait, Finn. Someday you’ll see how much it matters to have natural sunlight. I can already picture lazy mornings in the sun, and breakfasts on that huge table. Maybe a little family around it?”
He glances down at me, a soft tilt of his lips. Our eyes meet, and I see his love for me in that one look. His fingers reach out and push my hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Yeah, Daisy,” he agrees before groaning and erasing another part of my sketch. “Then we definitely need to move this staircase too.”
Finn clears his throat, and I’m pulled out of the memory, my hand lifting to my chest and rubbing away the phantom ache. For so long, I had pushed away those memories. The good times we had before they became overshadowed by all the bad ones.
“Ah...” He rubs his hands together like he’s nervous. “There are two bedrooms upstairs and a bathroom. Feel free to pick whichever one makes you more comfortable.”
Anger spikes again in my veins, because of course, I know there are only two bedrooms upstairs. I should be the biggerperson, but I can’t help but push right now. “And if I wanted your bedroom?”
His mouth pops open in shock before the realization that I know exactly what I walked into hits him. His jaw closes and clenches, the muscle moving rhythmically before he can meet my gaze again. “Mine is here on the main floor.”
My chest squeezes painfully. If I’m not careful, I’m going to break down in front of him. Scoffing, I shoulder past him and head up the stairs. He calls my name gently, but I don’t turn around. I need distance right now. Rushing up the stairs, I veer right and take the first room. I don’t really care which one I get; it's temporary anyway. The only satisfaction I get is when I slam the door shut behind me, and the sound echoes loudly.
Dropping to the bed, I let the tears I’d been holding fall onto my cheeks and soak into my arms while I pull my legs up to my chest. None of it makes sense. He pushed me away. We were in a bad place, so bad that he was actively putting distance between us. It's been five years. How can he have built my dream house when I never planned to return? The house is lived in; it isn’t brand new, which means he did this a long time ago. Just imagining Finn building the cabin causes the ache in my chest to tighten. Everything hurts so much. Our past and present are colliding, and it feels like a punch to the gut. It feels like another level of betrayal. We could have been so happy, and he ruined it. He ruined me.
I cry so hard that I eventually pass out on the bed, my body curled tightly. I don’t wake again until there's a sharp knock on the door.
“Win? Please open the door. You’ve been in there all afternoon.” His voice breaks, and I hear him sigh. The door moves slightly when he rests his body against it. “I made dinner. At least come down and eat.”
I don’t answer, and in the silence that follows, I hear him whisper something to himself before walking away from the door. His footsteps hit the stairs, and soon I’m alone again. The nap helped, but I still feel raw. All my dreams and hopes are cracked open wide in the form of a cabin that Finn built. The home we should have had together. I roll to my back and instantly regret it. My muscles are sore from lying curled up for so long, and even worse is the growl that my stomach makes. As much as I don’t want to go down there, I need to eat.
Slowly, I get off the bed and open my door, slipping into the bathroom first. After splashing some water on my face, I make my way down the stairs. Finn hadn’t been lying when he said I slept all afternoon. The sun has already set, the sky dark through the windows. Finn has turned on a few lamps throughout the house, and I follow the low lighting until I reach the dining room. My heart clenches again when I see the table, but I force myself to keep moving. Finn sees me as he comes back to the table carrying a bowl of salad and freezes.
“You came down.”
I shrug off his words. “I need to eat sometime.”
He keeps his mouth closed and sets more food on the table. The scent instantly hits my nose, the delicious aroma wrapping around me. It's familiar and comforting, all the while bittersweet again.
I dish up my plate, not waiting for him to sit and join me. I can feel his eyes watching while I force myself to eat one bite and then another. He coughs behind his fist, drawing my attention to him.
“I remembered it used to be your favorite.”
“Do you want a medal?” I snap back at him, watching his eyes darken slightly.
Finn shakes his head and sets his napkin down. “I don’t expect you to give me any grace here, Winnie. I just thought Iwould try and make this less awkward by at least making you a meal I know you loved.”
