39. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Tessa
G ravel crunched beneath my tires as I pulled up to Finn’s house for the last time. Country music played in the background while I stared at the house that became the first real home I’d known since I was twelve.
When I looked back over the events of the last four months, it was difficult for me to believe it wasn’t all a dream. But it wasn’t, and now it was over.
After I left L.A., the only thing on my mind was survival. Disappearing was the only option, and one I was doubtful I’d be successful at. Now that I was faced with disappearing once more, there was only one thought at the forefront of my mind – leaving was going to feel like tearing my own heart from my chest.
Attempting to blink away the tears that fell the entire drive up the mountain, I exited the car. When I texted Finn before heading into town, he said his meeting was taking far longer than anticipated. He apologized before adding that they hadn’t made much progress and he would likely be at least a couple more hours. With that in mind, I hurried into the house to pack, knowing my time to leave before his return was dwindling.
Luka greeted me at the door, his usually happy disposition slightly subdued as he sensed my emotional state. I squatted down, running my hands along the dog’s velvety fur. My tears came back in full force. “You take care of your dad, okay?”
He whined softly, his normally wagging tail eerily still. “I know, boy.” I choked up while I said my goodbyes. “But I gotta go, which is why you need to take care of him for me.”
Luka gently headbutted me, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding tight to his furry body. Burying my face in his coat, I gave myself permission to grieve for the life I stupidly allowed myself to believe I was worthy of. My tears soaked his ivory fur, the sorrow I felt at the idea of leaving this house crashing over me and stealing my breath.
Pulling away from the dog, I gave him one final stroke before I pointed to his dog bed. “Go lay down.” Luka gave me one last pitiful look before he slinked toward his dog bed by the fireplace.
Forcing myself toward my room, I stopped outside the door, my eyes traveling down the hall to the master bedroom.
I knew better than to tempt myself by going into the room that held so many memories. I knew I needed to get my belongings and leave, but something inside called me down the hallway.
Standing at the threshold to his bedroom, my eyes traveled across the space. Over the last few months, the minimalist décor was gradually replaced with soft earth tones and pops of color that complemented the rustic theme of the house, the signs of life bringing a homey feel to an otherwise bland color scheme. I started bringing things home after Reagan and I went shopping. A throw pillow here. A fluffy blanket there. Nothing life changing, but enough to make the overall aesthetic feel lived in. I justified the purchases by telling myself I would take them with me when I left, but various pieces gradually migrated to Finn’s room when I began spending my nights there.
As I looked around, my gaze snagged on the bed against the far wall. The bed where he made such gentle yet passionate love to me that first night and so many nights since. My throat tightened, nearly cutting off my air supply when I remembered the way he worshipped my body that night.
Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I scurried toward his bathroom, reminding myself I needed to hurry up and gather my toiletries. With an armful of my belongings, I took one last look at Finn’s bed. Knowing I would never be able to look at the décor items I contributed to his room without thinking of him, I left them all behind and rushed down the hall to my bedroom.
Dumping my possessions on the bed, I hastily moved toward the closet before grabbing the duffle bag Finn bought me. After he took me swimming at the lake, I started accompanying him several days a week for his morning workouts. Not long after, he tossed the duffel into the cart while we were in town picking up supplies, and I’d used it to cart my belongings to and from our sunrise oasis ever since. I pushed those memories from my thoughts and threw my toiletries inside the bag before heading into my bathroom.
Grabbing my cosmetics case from the drawer, I noticed the package of unused bandages from after my accident. I halted, remembering the first time Finn witnessed the evidence of Daniel’s abuse. Mortification flooded my body, but Finn took what I believed to be my biggest shame and showed me the error in Daniel’s words.
My skin pebbled when I recalled the reverent way Finn touched me, the surprising way my body reacted, and the way he ripped himself away because he thought it was what I needed.
I swallowed hard, heading back to the duffle bag while trying to convince myself I was doing exactly what Finn did that day. For the first time since I literally crashed into his life, I was going to put his needs first and allow him to find the life he was meant to have.
Rushing over to the dresser, I ripped open the top drawer. I scooped the contents out and held them to my chest as I hurried back to the bed.
As I tossed clothing into the duffle, I noticed the framed pictures by the nightstand. After everyone left my party, and Finn had thoroughly ravaged me, he surprised me with another present, claiming he thought I would prefer to open it away from prying eyes.
Despite my protests that it was too much, he forced the heavy box into my hands, unwilling to take no for an answer. When I lifted the top, I was stunned to find the three pictures I had left of my parents inside a trio of filigree frames.
In the weeks following my arrival, I began leaving the photos propped up on the dresser, the always present reminder of my parents a source of comfort while I navigated my new existence. When Reagan and I were at the spa being pampered to within an inch of our lives, Finn snuck into my room and placed them in frames he bought before wrapping them to surprise me.
I walked over to the nightstand and sat down on the bed. Picking up one of the photos, I stared down at the smiling faces. What would my parents think if they were still here? Would they be disappointed I chose a man like Daniel? Would they be happy I found someone like Finn? A never-ending stream of tears flowed down my cheeks as I stared at the two people who loved me unconditionally, the ache in my chest so intense it was hard to breathe.
Since the social worker showed up to tell me they were gone, I felt their loss each and every day. But it was in moments like this, when I needed my mother to wrap her arms around me while I fell apart, that the grief became so acute and all-consuming I struggled to continue living.
Carefully picking up the remaining two frames, I gently wrapped them in my sweatshirt before placing them inside the duffle. Grabbing the last of my belongings from the dresser, I slammed it shut, my signed copy of Outlander wobbling on top as a result.
Thoughts of Audrey and the way she treated me since my arrival filtered through my mind. From the moment I showed up, she not only welcomed me with open arms, she treated me like her own daughter. Being the recipient of a mother’s love and affection healed a part of me I was convinced never would. Until I was given the opportunity to experience it again, I didn’t realize the extent to which I missed it.
I pushed thoughts of Audrey from my mind, moving over to the small vanity where my camera sat, snugly protected within its case. Running my fingers along the exterior, the rough canvas of the bag scraped against my hand.Memories of the day I received it pulled at the recesses of my mind, but I refused to let them take hold.
My self-loathing roared back to life with a vengeance while I looked at myself in the mirror. Red, splotchy skin reflected back at me before my eyes landed on the scar where Finn stitched me up. I ran my finger along the raised skin the same way Finn had so many times since our first date. Acknowledging Finn would never touch that spot again, or any part of my body for that matter, with the kind of reverence he’d shown from the start had me choking back a sob.
Turning away from what would be a constant reminder of my time in Absolution, I pushed the camera bag further onto the vanity. Another piece of me chipped away knowing I couldn’t take such an extravagant gift with me, not when I was running out on him like a coward.
Walking away from the gift that meant everything to me, I threw my belongings in the duffel. Tears continued to flow, creating a river I feared would never cease.