She giggles, and her eyes jump to me. ‘Is that your girlfriend? I’ve seen the photies.’
A pulse knocks through my chest. Finn’s gaze cuts to mine and skims past.
‘Aye, she is,’ he answers. ‘Lucky me, eh?’
The girl nods solemnly. ‘She’s pretty.’
‘The prettiest,’ Finn agrees, and something in his voice pulls at a thread I’m desperately trying not to tug.
‘Can I have a picture with her and you?’
Before I can formulate an excuse, Finn’s looking at me again, a silent question. I nod mechanically and move beside him, careful to leave space between us.
The girl’s mum positions her phone. ‘Closer together, please?’
Finn places his arm around my waist, his touch is careful and precise and so professional it hurts. His palm burns through my cardigan, and I fight the urge to lean into him.
Click. A moment captured forever. His hand at my waist, my smile fixed in place, the careful distance we maintain.
‘How long have you two been together?’ the mother asks as she checks the photo.
The question cuts through the gap between what we are and what we almost were. How do you measure something that never really began?
‘Feels like forever,’ Finn answers, his tone light but his eyes serious. ‘Doesn’t it, darlin’?’
‘And yet like no time at all,’ I add.
The woman smiles, oblivious to the weight beneath our words. ‘You make a lovely couple.’
I step away from Finn’s touch, my skin still tingling where his hand rested. ‘Thank you. Enjoy the rest of the event.’
The afternoon continues in this vein. Signing, photos, choreographed interactions. I move through it all on autopilot, a perfect simulation of efficiency. Check the time. Adjust the queue. Smile. Don’t look at Finn too long. Don’t fucking look at Finn at all.
Charlie arrives midway through from a meeting, surveying the scene with evident satisfaction. ‘Look who it is!’ she calls, weaving through the crowd. ‘My brilliant partner. This is fantastic, Theo!’
I force a smile. ‘We’re running smoothly.’
‘Absolute PR gold. Seriously. The socials are blowing up with photos of you two again.’ Charlie knocks her shoulder into mine. ‘We’ll handle Marseille. Just think of the long-distance content we can generate until May.’
I merely nod, because if I speak, I might say the wrong thing. She moves on to Brodie.
There won’t be any long-distance content.
Jamie appears at my elbow, his usual stoic expression softened by something like concern. ‘You awright?’
‘Fine,’ I reply automatically. ‘Why?’
He shrugs. ‘Finn’s been awfy quiet, and that’s not like him.’
‘Maybe he’s tired.’
Jamie studies me a moment too long. ‘Maybe.’
Trish, the photographer, catches my attention, gesturing toward Finn. ‘Can we get a cute couple shot? Only the two of you?’
Again? Dread zips down my spine. ‘Is that necessary?’
‘Kind of. It’s for the new press kit.’ She smiles.
