“No?” Ollie’s smile was small but genuine. “Because from a purely business perspective, it’s pretty indefensible. We’re barely breaking even most months. And now this—” He waved toward the ceiling. “It feels like the universe is sending a pretty clear message.”
“I thought we established the universe doesn’t communicate via plumbing failures,” Finn reminded him, earning another small smile.
“Right. My mistake.” Ollie sighed, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. “It’s just that my parents have worked so hard. This place was supposed to be their retirement plan. And now I’m watching it literally fall apart around me, and there’s nothing I can do.”
Without thinking, Finn reached across the space between them, resting his hand on Ollie’s arm.
“That’s not true,” he said quietly. “There’s plenty you can do. And you don’t have to carry the weight of it on your own.”
Ollie stared at Finn’s hand on his arm, then up at his face. “Don’t I? At the end of the day, this is my family’s problem. Not yours, not the town’s.”
“Problems don’t have to be mine for me to care about them,” Finn said, the words coming easily. “Or to care about the person facing them. And if there’s one thing this town is good at, it’s being all up in each other’s business. That can suck at times, but we always take care of our own. I think you might be surprised to learn how many lives your family has touched.”
The admission hung between them. Finn started to withdraw his hand, but Ollie caught it, holding it in place.
“Thank you,” he said simply. “For saying that. For being here.”
Finn nodded, suddenly aware of the warmth of Ollie’s skin beneath his palm.
“I know what it’s like,” Finn said quietly, “to feel like everything’s falling apart and you’re the only one who can hold it together. After Holly left, there were days when I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage. Work, Brooklyn, the house—it all felt too big, too much.”
Ollie’s eyes widened slightly. “How did you handle it?”
“One day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time.” Finn’s thumb moved of its own accord, a small sweep across Ollie’s wrist. “And I learned to ask for help, eventually. Not my strongest skill, I’ll admit.”
“Mine either,” Ollie confessed with a rueful smile. “I’m great at helping others, terrible at accepting it myself.”
“I’ve noticed,” Finn said dryly.
Ollie laughed then, a real laugh that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “That obvious, huh?”
“About as obvious as my control issues, according to Brendan.”
“Your brother’s very perceptive.”
“Don’t tell him that. His ego’s big enough already.”
They smiled at each other across the scattered books, still connected by that single point of contact—Finn’s hand on Ollie’s arm, Ollie’s fingers keeping it there.
“I hate seeing you hurt like this,” Finn said finally. “I wish I could do more.”
Ollie’s expression softened. “You’re doing plenty. More than you know.”
Another loud crack of thunder broke the spell, making them both jump slightly. Ollie’s hand slipped away from Finn’s, and the connection was broken.
“I should probably get back to the office,” Finn said reluctantly, glancing at his watch. “I have a few things I should do before I pick Brooklyn up from school.”
Ollie nodded, replacing his glasses. “Of course. I’m going to finish this cataloging before I lose what’s left of my mind.”
They stood, the movement stilted after sitting on the floor for so long.
“Keaton texted to say he found a remediation team that’ll be here in the morning to take a look. I’ll meet them here,” Finn promised as they walked toward the front of the store. “Get estimates, timeline, everything you’ll need for insurance.”
“Thank you,” Ollie said. “For that, and for… Well, everything this week.”
The earlier storms had slowed to a sprinkle. Finn nearly ran into Ollie when he stopped short at the front door.
“Are you going to be okay?” Finn asked, searching Ollie’s face.
