Sweat beads along my hairline as I trail my eyes over the butterfly vivarium’s large, transparent panels and gray steel frames. The massive palms and vines growing up the sides of the building make me feel like I’ve been transported somewhere else. To a humid jungle oasis, far away from the confusion in my life.
I’ve spent more time here than normal this week, hoping to keep my mind off missing Finn and the girls. This is like a meditation space for me, where I can let go of everything else in my life and just be with the butterflies.
Yet, despite the peace this sanctuary brings me, it hasn’t been able to block all thoughts of Finn from creeping into my mind.
I’ve had no word from him. No message, no call, no note on my desk.
And, for the most part, I’ve held it together. I just have to make it through one more day of my week in charge. My idea board and mock-up for the butterfly exhibit I want to pitch are nearly done, and I feel prepared for my committee tour of the vivarium tomorrow.
I’ve managed to stay busy at work.
But once I arrive at home every evening, my heart aches.
That visualization of my life with Finn and the girls plays on aloop in my head, and I can’t turn it off. Over and over, my throat tightens as I feel those kisses brushed across my forehead and hear that laughter ringing through the bedroom. And I hate how the possibility of that fantasy was ripped away before I ever had a chance to enjoy it.
Chapter 30
Finn
I’ve been a goddamn asshole.
I know I have.
Everyone at work knows it, Gabriella knows it, and the girls probably know it too, even though I have tried my best to hide it when they’re around.
And, worst of all, Millie knows it.
I walked into that meeting on Tuesday with every intention of pretending to be a pleasant person, but she wouldn’t even look at me. She wouldn’t let me see those mossy-green eyes that have become my favorite color in the world.
So I couldn’t force myself on her. I couldn’t sit next to her, because if Millie won’t smile at me, she must think I’m an asshole. And the world is a dim, dark place without that smile.
Plopping onto the couch in Dr. Kline’s office, I survey all the whites and creams in the dreary morning haze streaming through the window. This couch is soft enough to be comfortable but not enough to tempt me into a nap.
Sometimes it’s hard to know how to sit here. Do I spread my thighs and slouch the way I naturally would? Do I sit up as straight as I can like this is an interview?
Dr. Kline crosses his legs as he settles in the chair across from meand tucks his gray cardigan under his notebook. He clears his throat and opens his pen, eyeing me as I fidget into a relaxed position.
Slouching and comfortable it is.
“How have you been since our last visit?” he asks with a warm smile.
“Well, things were going okay until this week, honestly. There are a few big changes I wanted to talk about if that’s okay.” Our last visit was two weeks ago, so a lot has shifted since then in terms of my relationship with Millie.
“Anything you want to talk about is perfect. I don’t have an agenda,” he reassures me.
I have no idea why I’m nervous to bring up Millie. He’s never given me any reason to believe he’s judging a single thing I say.
“I’ve been starting a relationship with someone,” I start as he nods.
“That’s great. How is it going?”
“I think I’m struggling to balance my time. Things with Millie changed over the last couple weeks, and I’m worried about neglecting the girls in the process.”
“Has something happened to make you feel like there’s an imbalance?”
I recount the events of the night on the overlook, being as honest as I can without divulging all the details, but I’m sure he can read between the lines.
“I see.” He makes a note before setting his pen down. “What do you think Clara would say if you were asking her for advice about your relationship with Millie?”
