Chapter 4 #2
Searching around for something to say, Fin let loose the first thing that came into his head. ‘I hear you just got divorced?’
She blinked, clearly taken aback by the conversation starter, but then she laughed. ‘Yes. I did.’
‘Oh god. Sorry …’ He shook his head. Jesus, way to go, dude. ‘That was insensitive.’
‘It’s fine.’ She waved away his apology. ‘Most people tippytoe around it, pretending it never happened in case I get upset. Which means I have to pretend. It’s a relief not to have to.’
Suddenly curious, Fin asked, ‘Tell me to shut it if this is too personal, but … do you mind me asking what happened with you and Bronson?’
On the surface, the Ballyshannon high school sweethearts had been two peas in a pod. Sporty, fit, insanely talented, stupidly good-looking. Not to mention common interests, shared history, similar values, community support. And two cute kids.
‘I guess we just …’ She shrugged slim shoulders. ‘Peaked in high school. Unfortunately it took us way too long to realise it. Other people left and went out in the world and experienced life, and we stayed. It wasn’t any one thing. We just finally grew up.’
Her tone was rich with ache and resignation and, for the first time ever, Fin felt sorry for the former mean girl.
As Sweeney had mentioned, she was still very pretty with her bronzed limbs and petite frame showcased to perfection in denim shorts and white tank top.
Her long, dark hair was untouched by greys but, on closer inspection, Fin could see fine lines around her eyes and mouth and a certain brittleness to her expression.
As though her face had been frozen in that it girl smile for far too long.
‘But that won’t be the case with you and Sweeney,’ Maria assured, touching his arm again. ‘You’ve both lived life and had adventures. You’ve seen what the world has to offer and still chose each other. That’s so sweet.’
Once upon a time she might have meant that in a bitchy you two are such losers way, but Fin was pretty sure Maria was being genuine. Still, it must have taken him too long to answer because she shot him a sad smile that morphed into a resigned grimace.
‘I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection these past couple of years, and I know I wasn’t very kind to you or Sweeney, or a lot of people really, in high school. I know I was the mean girl and I’m sincerely sorry for that.’
Fin blinked at her earnestness. She was leaning in, her hand on his arm gripping a little firmer. What had Sweeney said? People change. It appeared as if Maria definitely had.
Shrugging, he said, ‘None of us are the people we were in high school.’
Maria gave a laugh as she patted his arm. ‘Except for you.’
Fin didn’t think that was remotely true.
He was far from the shy, nerdy maths guy he’d been in high school.
Hadn’t Sweeney said as much in the car the other night?
His dad certainly had, that last time they’d spoken.
The disappointment in his father’s voice had been worse than his anger and become a bruise that hadn’t healed.
‘I just really want to apologise for my behaviour. I know that doesn’t make up for it but I hope you guys can forgive me.’
‘Hey, Maria, how you doing?’
Fin had been so taken back by Maria’s apology that he’d temporarily forgotten about the siren cavorting in the lake.
But Sweeney’s voice had him turning to find her, and Maria and her mea culpa was instantly forgotten.
Sweeney was back in her dress, but she’d obviously thrown it on without towelling off thoroughly first, her neck and shoulders glistening with beads of water.
The fitted bodice sported two wet patches from the swimming costume beneath, and the ends of her wet hair dripped water onto her décolletage.
As she drew closer, Sweeney’s hand slid onto his other forearm. Fin’s skin heated at both the touch and what appeared to be a display of … possession? The golden band of his grandmother’s Claddagh ring underscored the situation.
‘Hey, Sweeney.’ Maria smiled warmly. ‘I’m good. Better than I thought I’d be.’
‘That’s really great,’ Sweeney returned.
And she sounded utterly sincere, but then, as Fin watched the interaction between the two women, something strange happened. Sweeney’s gaze dropped to where the other woman’s hand still rested on his arm before returning, deliberately and unwaveringly, to meet Maria’s.
A beat or two followed before Maria removed her hand.
Fin blinked. What was even happening now? Maria Jennings had apologised for being a mean girl and Sweeney Bailey had … what? Lifted her leg and marked her territory?
‘Well.’ Maria tipped her chin in the direction of the game. ‘I’d better go and cheer on the kids. Hope to see you both again before you leave.’
‘Sure,’ Fin murmured politely, conscious of Sweeney nodding placidly by his side.
They both watched Maria depart before Fin glanced at Sweeney, still unsure what had just gone down. When she met his gaze, Fin raised an eyebrow. ‘What was that?’
‘What was what?’ she asked awkwardly, dropping her hand from his arm.
Fin narrowed his eyes. ‘You know what.’
Sweeney shrugged. ‘You looked like you needed rescuing.’
‘Did I?’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘No. We were just chatting.’
‘It looked like she was flirting.’
It was fair to say Fin hadn’t always been great at reading female signals, but those years had long gone. He sure as hell knew when a woman was flirting, and Maria Jennings had definitely not been. ‘She wasn’t.’
‘Oh … okay.’
‘Was it bothering you?’ Because that would be interesting.
She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re my fiancé—’ She lowered her voice. ‘Remember? I think it’s supposed to bother me?’
Right. Yes. Of course. And now he felt awkward.
As if the conversation was boring her, Sweeney turned her attention to the football match. Unfortunately Fin’s attention was snagged by a droplet of water escaping her hair, landing on her collarbone and trekking a very much not boring path to her cleavage.
Forcing his attention to the game, he was just in time to hear Mai yelling from the sidelines. ‘Nellie, Tori! Catch it!’
Fin watched as his two goddaughters—Nellie was six, Tori was five—who had been crouched low, poking their fingers at something in the grass rather than paying attention to the game, sprang up and started running, as though they were pull string dolls.
They ran off in opposite directions, looking above them, tracking the ball, their arms held so wide apart they wouldn’t have been able to catch a bulldozer falling from the sky.
Unfortunately they weren’t tracking each other and, after both running in a circle, they collided like two cartoon characters.
Sweeney winced. ‘Ouch.’
‘Yeah.’ Fin grimaced. ‘Don’t think they’re destined to make the Olympics, do you?’
‘They clearly got Donny’s sporting gift.’
Fin threw back his head and laughed and Sweeney joined him and suddenly it wasn’t awkward anymore—he was just hanging with his bestie, talking smack about Donny and his two left feet, just like old times.
They could do this.