The creases in Matt’s forehead deepen with each passing second. He asks again, “Gem, is this why?”
“I thought…” Gemma pauses to clear her throat. “I thought they’d get along. She was lonely, babe. I know you see it. And I knew Zach would be lost without hockey. There’s nothing wrong with them being friends.”
Matt throws his hands into the air. “Dammit, Gemma. When are you going to cut out this meddling bullshit?”
She lets out a sharp laugh. “Well, if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black. You’re the one trying to control every aspect of her life and keep her inside a bubble.”
“Exactly,” Finley says, nodding vigorously at Gemma’s proclamation.
Seeing Matt and Gemma argue shocks me to my core. All I’ve witnessed is steadfast devotion to each other, but here’s a crack. Some people might find it comforting to witness imperfection, but I don’t like the reminder that the strongest relationships can fall apart if we’re not careful.
“She’s an adult,” I chip in, ignoring Gemma’s pleas for us to stop. This conversation has spiraled too far out of control to end now. “It’s none of your business.”
“I’m responsible for her,” Matt repeats his earlier words. “I make sure she’s taking care of herself. Something someone should do for you.”
“He’s smarter than people think,” Finley says.
It hurts, hearing her defend me to her brother when I suspect she doesn’t believe it. If she did, she would’ve told me about the mysterious condition that upended her entire life, which has her family so worried.
Matt lets out an ugly laugh. “He abandoned a grease fire in Volk’s house. He microwaves metal. He—”
“And you’ve never made mistakes?”
Matt points at me. “He can barely take care of himself.”
I take a step toward him but not beside Finley, because I’m no longer sure we’re a team. “If I’m such an idiot, why do I know what she needs better than you do?”
“You think you know what Finley needs? You don’t know the first thing about her.”
“Matt, stop,” Finley pleads in desperation.
“Tell him, Finley. Tell him, or I will.”
Gemma utters under her breath, “Baby, it’s not for you to tell. Youknowit’s not.”
Tears stream down Finley’s face. “I hate you so much right now.”
“This is for your own good.” Matt rips open the door; shockingly, it doesn’t tear off its hinges. “Hate me if you want, but I’m protecting you.”
Gemma glances over her shoulder in the direction Matt stomped. “I’m sorry, Fi. I’ll try to talk to him.”
“Don’t bother,” she mutters, staring at the floor. Tears splash her boots.
Every instinct screams to comfort her, to doanythingto stop her pain, but I can’t unhear Matt’s accusations. “Is he right? Have you not told me because you think I’m a helpless idiot?”
Finley’s eyes meet mine. “What? No.”
It hurts too much to stare into the watery blue, so I turn away. “Do you not trust me?”
I barely hear her voice over the music from downstairs. “How can you ask me that?”
“What don’t I know about you, High-flyer?”
“I’m not… I’m not ready, all right?”
I nod once, hearing all I need to hear. She’s not ready to confide in me even though she knows I love her. It’s not like I didn’t know Finley had a secret, something to explain everything about her life that doesn’t make sense. I told her I’d wait until she was ready, and I meant it. But now, I don’t know if she’s ever going to be ready.
Not becauseshe’snot ready, but because I’m me, the guy she teaches how to be a self-sufficient adult. If enough people call your ability into question, eventually you need to consider whether they’re right. Maybe Finley came to the same realization.
