Chapter Thirty-Five
Alannah
This past week has been quiet. My grandparents have barely spoken to me since everything came out about the letters and I pushed back about the match with Finn.
I know they’re not used to me going against their wishes, and I hate that I’ve upset them, but I don’t regret asking for more time.
I just wish they’d stop being angry long enough to talk to me.
Whenever I try to bring it up, they either give me one-word answers or change the subject, so I’ve kept to myself.
By the time Mass ends, I’ve already decided I need to speak to Finn.
I wait until the final hymn fades and the pews begin to empty, then turn to where he was sitting near the aisle, but he’s already gone.
I hurry up the aisle, hoping to catch him before he leaves.
At the church doors, I spot him walking toward his car and rush after him.
He looks up at the sound of my footsteps and stops. “Alannah,” he says, and there’s enough surprise in it to tell me he didn’t expect me to come after him.
I stop in front of him, a little breathless from crossing the yard so quickly. “I’m sorry,” I say. “For last week. For everything. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I know you’ve been keeping away, and I understand why. I’ve been thinking, and I don’t want to leave things like this between us.”
His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You did hurt me a bit,” he says. “But I’d hoped if I gave you some time, you might come to me when you knew what you wanted.”
I glance toward his car, then back at him. “Would you have time for tea?” I ask, then add before I can lose my nerve, “My treat.”
“I’ve work this morning,” he says, and my heart sinks before he adds, “But I can give you a few minutes before I have to go.”
I glance back toward the church, where people are still spilling out through the doors and gathering in small groups near the steps.
This isn’t where I wanted to have this conversation, but it looks like the only chance I’m going to get.
I turn back to him. “I really do like you, Finn. But everything just threw me. One moment we were kissing, and the next you were telling me my annulment had gone through and there was talk of a match between us. I didn’t know about either of those things.
And with Grandmam throwing away my parents’ letters…
” I break off and shake my head. “It was all too much.”
His brow pulls together. “You’re talking like we’d have to marry tomorrow, Alannah.
The contract only means our families want the match settled.
It doesn’t mean anyone is expecting you to walk down the aisle next week.
” He pauses, like he’s deciding whether to say the rest. “I don’t know what I’m meant to think.
You say you like me, and I want to believe you.
Then you pull away, and I’m left wondering if you’re only saying what you think I want to hear. ”
For a moment, I just stare at him. Why is everyone so fixated on the contract?
On whether it means marriage now or marriage later?
Why can’t anyone hear me when I say no one told me anything?
That this is still my life, and all I want is for someone to care enough to ask me what I want.
I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I understand what you’re saying. I do. But you promised me slow, Finn.
When you asked to court me, you said we could take our time, and I believed you. This doesn’t feel slow.”
“And I thought that meant we were moving toward something,” he says, more sharply than before.
“My da wasn’t pleased when I asked him to hold off on signing the contract because we were taking things slow, but I told him it was what you needed, and I thought that would be enough.
” His jaw tightens. “I didn’t think you’d be this upset over the papers.
Not after a month. Not after that kiss.”
“Finn—”
He drags a hand through his hair. “Alannah, you know how things are in our world. Some people meet for the first time at the altar. I gave you a month before the contract was even meant to be signed, and the annulment not being done yet helped me get you that much.” His voice hardens. “I thought you’d be thankful.”
“Thankful?” The word comes out louder than I mean it to, and a few people turn in our direction.
Heat rushes to my face. I lower my voice and tell him the only truth I know for sure when it comes to us.
“I do like you, Finn. I do. I want us to keep courting, to keep getting to know each other. All I asked for was a little more time before everyone started talking about another marriage.”
Before Finn can say anything else, Catríona comes up beside us and slips an arm around my shoulders. “There you are,” she says with a smile, pulling me into a hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
Finn lets out a tired breath. “C’mon, Catríona. I’ve work.”
“One minute,” she says brightly. “I’m only saying hello.”
Finn looks between us, then shakes his head and opens the car door. “We’ll talk about this later, Alannah.”
He gets in and starts the engine. Catríona waits until the noise covers her voice, then turns to face me. Her eyes, so like Finn’s, are colder than I’ve ever seen them. “You’re my friend,” she says quietly. “And I love you. But he’s my brother, Alannah. I won’t stand by and watch him get hurt.”
Is that what she thinks I’m trying to do? “I’m not trying to hurt him.”
“Then don’t keep him hoping if you don’t mean it.
” Her voice stays low. “He deserves better than that.” She holds my gaze another second, then turns and gets into the car.
I step out of the way as Finn pulls off and watch until they reach the road.
When I turn back, I notice my grandparents sitting in their car nearby, their eyes fixed on me.
I walk over and get into the back seat without saying a word.
On the way back to their house, I keep my face turned toward the window, watching the village pass while Catríona’s words sit heavy in my chest. I feel guilty and hurt and more alone than I did before I spoke to Finn, and I don’t understand how trying to explain myself made everything worse.