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The only thing she could do now was pray. Pray that Mrs. Waterstone would have compassion. And pray that Maisie hadn’t sealed the fate of Finn and his family.

Day Seven

On Sunday evening, Finn stood outside his flat, waiting with Cedric as his Uber pulled up to the pavement. Matthew, Winnie, and Graham had already left for home that afternoon after the four of them had spent the rest of the weekend together.

The night before, Finn had laid awake in his flat, his friends sleeping on rollaway beds and air mattresses nearby as he wondered if it would be one of the last nights he’d sleep there. He’d tossed and turned, longing to text Maisie but knowing he needed to put distance between them if he wanted any leg to stand on with Joshua.

His boss still hadn’t messaged him. Whether that was good or bad news, Finn couldn’t say.

“Well, thanks for the stay, Finn,” Cedric said, opening the back door of the car and tossing his luggage inside. “And for plannin’ the run.”

“No problem. Hope it wasn’t too hard for you,” Finn joked.

“It was just the warm-up we needed before I make you run across Tryfan next year.”

“They’ll be takin’ me down on a gurney, then.”

They shared a laugh, but the sound rang hollowly in Finn’s ears.

He’d arrived home the night before after leaving Maisie at the hotel, doing his best to keep his spirits up, but as everyone commented on how much they’d loved Maisie, all he could think of was how stupidly he’d handled his time with her.

“So,” Cedric began, turning away from the still-open car and looking at Finn expectantly.

“So, what?” Finn asked.

“Are you goin’ to tell me what happened between you and Maisie last night to put you in such a bad mood?”

Finn had hoped he’d done enough to hide his dampened spirits. He should’ve known Cedric would notice. He was the first to perceive Finn’s depression at Eton.

Still, Finn didn’t quite have the courage to open up about how he’d made yet another stupid decision—and how he’d screwed up any chance of things moving forward smoothly between him and Maisie.

“Nothin’,” he finally replied. “Nothin’ happened. We just decided not to pursue anythin’ ’til after the tour’s over.”

Cedric hardly looked convinced, though he nodded all the same. “Seems smart enough. Just don’t wait too long before you make your move. And…” He paused, sobering. “Keep us updated, mate. About her. About your family. About your work. We care about you. Don’t keep it all in if you can help it.”

Finn nodded, gratitude filling him, but all he could say was, “Thanks, Ced,” before they clapped each other on the back in a simple hug, and Cedric loaded into the Uber and drove away.

Remaining on the pavement, Finn watched the car disappear around the corner, already regretting that he’d kept his troubles from his friends.

Now, instead of hearing words of encouragement and advice, he was treated to his own critical thoughts—and to the pressure of having to ensure every future step he took was in the right place.

He had to fight harder to keep that bonus. He had to rally his defenses in case Mrs. Waterstone decided to destroy his life and complain to Joshua after all. And he had to keep his distance from Maisie for the next week—which would be the hardest thing of all.

Day Eight

By Monday morning, Finn had still received no call from Joshua. If Mrs. Waterstone had complained and the company had any concerns, they certainly would have contacted him by now.

That knowledge alone encouraged him to get to the bus depot early to collect Bob, if only to settle any further worries.

By the time he arrived, his patience was wearing thin, not only to get back on the tour but to see Maisie. He missed her. Even more than he thought he would. He couldn’t wait to see her.

However, as he went to his usual spot to pick up Bob, the bus was nowhere to be found. Figuring they were probably filling it up with diesel, Finn drew in deep breaths, but an uneasiness rushed toward him.

“Finn?”

Joshua.

Dread pressed on Finn’s mind. He turned around to face his boss. “’Bout ye. Where’s me bus?”