I still remember my parents relaying to me how much he’d downplayed that chest infection. It’s another warning I know I need to heed in case it happens again.
Finn takes my hand and squeezes it, giving me encouragement to go on.
‘Earlier he told me that he misses Dad’s Austin Healey.’
He glances across at me. ‘That’s the car they were driving?’
I nod, my face crumpling. He comes to a stop and tries to pull me into his arms again, but I wrench myself away.
‘If they’d been driving their BMW, they probably would have survived.’
A stillness comes over him.
‘What are you trying to say?’ he asks warily.
We never spoke about it. I couldn’t bring myself to voice my suspicions out loud, but then I read the police report and did some research and my worst fears were confirmed. The guilt has intensified, poisoning me.
‘They weren’t driving their BMW.’ I bite back another onslaught of tears. ‘Iwas. I took us to the festival in it.’
‘Please don’t tell me you blame yourself,’ Finn says with horror, and then his expression transforms into shock. ‘Do you blameme?’
‘I blame us,’ I whisper. ‘If I hadn’t been so into you, they’d still be alive.’
He shakes his head fervently. ‘Fuck, Liv, no. Please don’t say that. Please don’tdothat.’
‘I can’t help it!’ I cry.
‘Fuck!’ he says again, stepping away and raking his hand through his hair. He stares at the ocean with a bleak look on his face.
I should send him away to punish myself, but all I’ve done in the past two weeks is get closer to him.
I’ll pay my penance in the pain I’ll feel when he leaves.
I walk forward and slip my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back. He slowly places his hands over mine.
‘I’m so lonely, Finn. My grief is so big and I feel so small and there’s no one to share it with.’
He hangs his head.
‘Will you stay with me tonight?’ I whisper against his soft T-shirt, almost too scared to ask.
‘I fly back to LA on Monday,’ he replies hoarsely.
‘I don’t mean to … I just … I don’t want to be alone. Will you hold me? Please?’
I sense his hesitation, but I’m gratified when he nods.
Michael’s cottage is dark and quiet when we enter. I’m conscious of every beat of my heart as we creep upstairs and into my room. I gather my pyjamas and head to the bathroom while Finn sits on the edge of my bed.
He’s under the covers when I return to the room, and when I pull them back and slip inside, I see that he’s stripped down to his boxer shorts. He opens up his arms and I snuggle in close, and after a while, some of my sadness seeps away.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I wake up on the anniversary of my parents’ deaths feeling as though I’ve drunk down grief and it’s solidified inside me like plaster, setting in a twisted, mangled form. There is nothing beautiful about it; it’s pure pain.
Finn starts awake beside me.
‘Hey,’ he whispers, reaching out to me.
