42. Finn
Finn
It was our last night of the weekend, and the restaurant was louder than I liked. Too many people, too many exits, too many corners I couldn’t watch at once.
Still, Kate was smiling.
Lucy was halfway through a story, something about Riot nearly setting the kitchen on fire, and Reaper was watching her like he always did when she got like that, softer than he let anyone else see.
Kate laughed under her breath, shaking her head.
I leaned forward and brushed my lips across hers, smiling at the blush that crept up her cheeks.
“Sounds about right,” I said, pulling away from her.
I leaned back in my chair, beer in hand, the other resting on Kate’s leg, letting the noise blur a little. It was good. Too good.
Normal.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
The perfume hit me first, sharp and expensive, and familiar enough to make my stomach drop before I even lifted my head.
“Finlay.”
My grip tightened on the bottle before my brain caught up. I hadn’t heard that name in months.
I didn’t turn because I knew exactly who it was.
Shit. Why now, of all times?
Kate’s voice cut in, soft but curious. “Finn?”
I lifted my head, and there she was, exactly the same as I remembered.
Tall and well put together. Dark hair pulled back in an elegant style, she was wearing a dress and heels that probably cost more than the average household made in a year.
Her attention settled on me first then shifted towards Kate, then back again. A slow smile curved her lips.
“Well,” she said lightly, “this is . . . unexpected. I see you have another woman.”
Lucy went still across the table. Reaper didn’t move, but I felt the shift in him.
Kate frowned slightly. “Do you know her?”
I didn’t answer because I didn’t know how to. I’d been ignoring her calls since everything had gone down with Kate, and then, she was the last thing on my mind.
She stepped closer, stopping beside the table.
Her attention drifted over to Kate again, assessing, noting my hand on Kate’s thigh. Then she turned back to me.
“Really?” she said, almost amused. “You didn’t tell her?”
Kate’s posture changed. Her shoulders stiffened, and her leg tensed beneath my hand.
“What’s going on?” she asked, quieter now.
Tamara’s smile didn’t falter.
“Oh, darling,” she said, her voice smooth as silk, “hasn’t he told you about me?”
My jaw locked.
“Don’t, Tam,” I warned.
Tamara smiled wider. She ignored me. Of course, she did. She never listened to me before, why start then?
Her attention stayed fixed on Kate. “I’m his wife.”
Lucy gasped, and there was a muttered, “What the fuck?” from Reaper, but I ignored them. My focus stayed on Kate.
She blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth parted like her mind hadn’t caught up.
“His . . . what?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Her attention remained solely on the woman in front of her.
I pushed to my feet, chair scraping hard against the floor. “Kate, listen to me before you walk away.”
Her head snapped in my direction as she pushed away from the table and stood up. She was getting ready to run. I could see it in her expression.
I stepped around the table, closer to her, holding my hands up with my palms out. “Kate?—”
She took a step back.
“You’re married?” she asked.
“It’s not?—”
“Are you married?”
I closed my eyes for a second or two. Fucking Tamara, she loved the drama.
“Yeah,” I said. “Legally.”
Lucy swore under her breath, and Kate let out a small, disgusted laugh.
“Legally,” she repeated. “Right.”
“Kate—”
“How long?” she asked.
“Years.”
Her lips parted slightly then pressed together, but she wasn’t fooling me. I saw the tremble in them.
I’d hurt her again.
“And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?” she asked.
“It didn’t matter,” I said.
The second the words left my mouth, I knew it was the wrong thing to say.
Kate stared at me like I’d slapped her. Her eyes flashed.
“It doesn’t matter?” she echoed.
“To me,” I corrected quickly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“It clearly means something,” she shot back. “She’s standing right there.”
Tamara hummed like she was enjoying this far too much.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said lightly. “But Finlay, we should talk. Soon.”
“Not now,” I said without turning towards her.
“Of course,” she said. Then to Kate, “It was lovely meeting you.”
It didn’t sound like she meant it.
I watched as she turned and walked away, heels clicking, rejoining her entourage and disappearing into the crowd like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of our table.
Kate didn’t look at me. She just reached for her bag, her hands shaking.
“I need to go,” she said.
“Kate—”
“I said I need to go.”
She turned and walked back into the hotel.
I was moving before the door even swung shut behind her. I begged her all the way up the stairs to stop and talk to me, but she furiously denied me and stormed into our room.
The door slammed in my face hard enough to rattle the frame.
I took a breath and opened the door, cursing myself for not telling her sooner, for not sorting things out with Tamara months ago.
Kate stood in the middle of the room, back to me, arms wrapped around herself.
I slowly shut the door behind me, scared I would startle her into running again if I was too loud.
“Say something,” she said, spinning towards me.
“Kate—”
“Say something that makes sense.”
“She’s nothing to me,” I said, stepping closer. “Hasn’t been for years.”
“Then why is she still your wife?” she fired back.
I didn’t answer straight away.
Her face fell just a fraction. “That’s what I thought.”
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“Everything with you is complicated,” she snapped. “You don’t get to decide what matters to me, Finn.”
I stopped in front of her, close enough to see the hurt she was trying to hide. “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t real,” I said, quieter now. “Not the way this is.”
Her eyes searched mine, and I thought she might believe me.
She scoffed and shook her head. “You should’ve told me anyway.” She walked over to the window and stared at the city below. “Just leave me alone. I need time to think.”
The worst part was how calm she sounded. Like she was already pulling away from me emotionally, and I was standing there watching it happen.
My heart ached as I searched for the right thing to say, but I couldn’t think of anything at that moment. Pushing her would only make things worse.
“I love you, Kate,” I murmured before turning and heading out of the room.