Chapter 23 #2
‘As I’ll ever be.’ His voice is rougher than I remember, or maybe that’s simply the way memory works, smoothing out the edges until you hear them again.
I need to say something, anything else. ‘Where’s Scottie?’
‘He didn’t come home last night.’ Finn examines the trainers on the wall behind me.
‘Again?’
‘He’s probably just shagging someone.’
‘Good for him. And…also…good crowd today.’ My mouth moves, but everything underneath locks up. ‘Remember, extra smiles for the kids, no promises about next season, no word about the tape—’
‘I know the script, Theo. I’ve read the memo.’
I nod briskly and turn away, clicking into work mode. Check the banners. Adjust the lighting. Brief Trish, the photographer. I won’t let my personal disaster derail this event.
On my sign, the volunteers open the doors, and fans stream in, a tide of excitement washing over the store.
Finn morphs into his public persona. Charming, cocky, attentive, laughing at the right moments.
I watch from the periphery, acting like my heart isn’t sitting on the floor somewhere between the yoga mats and kettle bells.
A young girl approaches Finn, seven or eight years old, wearing a Rebels jersey that hangs to her knees.
‘You’re my favourite,’ she declares sternly.
Finn crouches to her level. ‘That right? Well, you’ve got excellent taste.’
She giggles, and her eyes jump to me. ‘Is that your girlfriend? I’ve seen the photies.’
A pulse knocks through my chest. Finn’s gaze cuts to mine and skims past.
‘Aye, she is,’ he answers. ‘Lucky me, eh?’
The girl nods solemnly. ‘She’s pretty.’
‘The prettiest,’ Finn agrees, and something in his voice pulls at a thread I’m desperately trying not to tug.
‘Can I have a picture with her and you?’
Before I can formulate an excuse, Finn’s looking at me again, a silent question. I nod mechanically and move beside him, careful to leave space between us.
The girl’s mum positions her phone. ‘Closer together, please?’
Finn places his arm around my waist, his touch is careful and precise and so professional it hurts. His palm burns through my cardigan, and I fight the urge to lean into him.
Click. A moment captured forever. His hand at my waist, my smile fixed in place, the careful distance we maintain.
‘How long have you two been together?’ the mother asks as she checks the photo.
The question cuts through the gap between what we are and what we almost were. How do you measure something that never really began?
‘Feels like forever,’ Finn answers, his tone light but his eyes serious. ‘Doesn’t it, darlin’?’
‘And yet like no time at all,’ I add.
The woman smiles, oblivious to the weight beneath our words. ‘You make a lovely couple.’
I step away from Finn’s touch, my skin still tingling where his hand rested. ‘Thank you. Enjoy the rest of the event.’
The afternoon continues in this vein. Signing, photos, choreographed interactions. I move through it all on autopilot, a perfect simulation of efficiency. Check the time. Adjust the queue. Smile. Don’t look at Finn too long. Don’t fucking look at Finn at all.
Charlie arrives midway through from a meeting, surveying the scene with evident satisfaction. ‘Look who it is!’ she calls, weaving through the crowd. ‘My brilliant partner. This is fantastic, Theo!’
I force a smile. ‘We’re running smoothly.’
‘Absolute PR gold. Seriously. The socials are blowing up with photos of you two again.’ Charlie knocks her shoulder into mine. ‘We’ll handle Marseille. Just think of the long-distance content we can generate until May.’
I merely nod, because if I speak, I might say the wrong thing. She moves on to Brodie.
There won’t be any long-distance content.
Jamie appears at my elbow, his usual stoic expression softened by something like concern. ‘You awright?’
‘Fine,’ I reply automatically. ‘Why?’
He shrugs. ‘Finn’s been awfy quiet, and that’s not like him.’
‘Maybe he’s tired.’
Jamie studies me a moment too long. ‘Maybe.’
Trish, the photographer, catches my attention, gesturing toward Finn. ‘Can we get a cute couple shot? Only the two of you?’
Again? Dread zips down my spine. ‘Is that necessary?’
‘Kind of. It’s for the new press kit.’ She smiles.
Of course. I wrote that brief myself, weeks ago. Back when pretending to be Finn’s girlfriend wasn’t slowly suffocating me.
Yep. I’m the creator of my own undoing.
I approach Finn, who’s finished signing a rugby shirt with his number eight. ‘They want a photo with us.’
He nods, gaze locked down like a vault. ‘Where do you want me?’
In my arms. In my bed. In my fucking life.
‘By the banner,’ I say, pointing to the Kick Off Kindness display. ‘Good branding opportunity.’
We position ourselves side by side, but Trish frowns. ‘Could you stand closer, your arm around her?’
Finn’s hand hovers low on my back. There, but not touching. It sets me on fire, and I want to scream.
‘One more,’ Trish says. ‘Look at each other this time?’
I turn toward Finn as he turns to me. Our eyes lock, and for a second, the store, the crowd, the whole charade falls away. There’s only him and his sky-blue eyes that see too much.
‘Theo,’ he says, so quietly only I can hear.
‘Don’t,’ I whisper back. Because if he says anything real, anything true, I’ll fall to pieces right here under the fluorescent lights.
The flash goes off, we both blink, and the spell breaks.
‘Perfect.’ Trish reviews the shot with a grin. ‘That’s the one.’
I step away, pulling my phone from my pocket. ‘I need to check some emails. Excuse me.’
I don’t wait for his response, just turn and stride toward the back office, each step measured and controlled. Calm, composed, and absolutely not shattering inside.
The back room is full of boxes of merchandise and a desk cluttered with invoices. I sink into the chair, hands shaking as I set down my phone. Today isn’t just hard because I’m pretending to be with someone I pushed away.
It’s hard because I’m pretending not to love someone I do.
I stood next to him not two minutes ago, and every cell in my body exhaled like it had been waiting.
Being close to him – feeling the heat of his body, hearing his breath hitch when I leaned in – cracked something wide open.
He looked at me like it still hurt. And it did.
For both of us. But being that close again…
God, it felt like the first right thing in ages.
Finn is the only thing that makes sense.
I’m in love with him.
Sweet Jesus, I’m in love with Finn Lennox.
And I urged him to leave for France without even asking him if that’s what he wants. I pushed him away and closed the door on him, like his mother did.
Shit, I cocked this up so hard. There’s no coming back from that. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.
I’m not a fixer, I’m a mess and it’s all my fault.
That’s when the tears come.
That’s also when the door creaks. I wipe my cheeks with both hands and sit taller. The footsteps stop directly behind my chair.
‘There you are! Thought I saw you disappear.’ Charlie’s voice has this deep tinge of someone who’s clearly successful and thoroughly satisfied. Twice daily, based on her glow.
I blink rapidly at my phone screen, pretending to be working on a social posting.
‘Are you okay, Theo?’
I nod without turning around, desperately willing my face to reset itself. ‘Oh, aye. Just fine-tuning the wording for—’
‘Theodora.’ Her tone softens with concern.
‘Charlotte.’ I spin slowly, and her grin dies.
‘Fuck.’ She kicks the door shut behind her. ‘What happened?’
‘Allergies.’ My voice breaks. ‘And a new moisturiser.’
Charlie crouches, peering up at me. Gold hoops glint. ‘Try again.’
‘Period cramps?’
‘Bollocks. We’re kind of synced since we’ve started working together, and I’m not due for another two weeks.’ She grips my shoulders. ‘Theo.’
The harsh light spits its artificial glow into every corner of the cluttered storeroom.
A stifled hiccup escapes. ‘It’s nothing.’
Before I can fabricate another lie, she’s crouched in front of me, arms wrapping around my shoulders. The dam breaks again, and I’m sobbing into pristine, champagne-coloured silk.
‘I’m ruining your blouse,’ I mumble against her torso between sobs.
‘I don’t give a shit.’ She pulls back. ‘Talk to me. Now.’
I take a shuddering breath. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be real.’
‘What wasn’t?’ She hands me a tissue from her purse, one of those fancy ones that smell of lavender.
‘The relationship. Finn. Us. It was meant to be a rebrand strategy and a business arrangement.’
‘Oh.’ She sits on a nearby box of trainers, her expression unfolding from confusion to understanding. ‘And it became something else.’
‘Everything else.’ The words tumble out, raw and unfiltered. ‘He’s not who I thought he was, Charlie. Not even close.’
‘So who is he then?’
I fiddle with the crumpled tissue. ‘He’s funny and kind and attentive. Completely lacking in self-preservation. He notices things. How I take my tea, when I’m overthinking. He’s a complete disaster at loading a dishwasher, but he’ll spend ten minutes making sure Elvis has the perfect blanket nest.’
‘Wait, what?’ Charlie lifts her eyebrows. ‘Your cat gremlin hates everyone.’
‘I know! But not him. And he’s so…’ I draw a useless circle in the air, trying to sum him up, ‘genuine. Even when he’s being an absolute fanny, he’s honest about it.’
‘Unlike some people I know.’ She pins me with a look that’s half affection, half indictment.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means you’re the queen of compartmentalisation, Theo. You’ve got thicker walls than Edinburgh Castle.’
I wince. ‘That’s not—’
‘Fair? Maybe not. True? Dead on. Takes one to know one.’ She squeezes my knee. ‘So what happened?’
‘Marseille happened. This partnership happened.’ I wipe fresh tears from my cheeks. ‘And I told him to go because it was the right move for his career. And for the agency.’
‘Hmm.’ Charlie’s hum contains multitudes of judgement.
‘Don’t “hmm” me like that. I was being professional.’
‘Nonsense. You were being scared.’
‘I thought he’d never stay anyway; that’s not his thing.’
‘How do you know it couldn’t become his thing? No, you told him to go because you thought you weren’t allowed to ask for what you want. And if you did, and he said he’d go anyway, your squishy heart wouldn’t survive it.’
The damp tissue disintegrates between my fingertips. ‘Sounds not entirely implausible.’
Charlie leans closer, her voice dropping. ‘And now it all makes sense.’
‘What does?’
‘For starters, that Finn told me two minutes ago he won’t sign Marseille.’
My heart stops. ‘He said what now?’
‘Yeah, he said he doesn’t feel ready to leave the Rebels.
It’s a new team, and he wants to finish what he started.
At least this season, but preferably until they’re at the top.
Said he’s not a quitter.’ Her eyes twinkle.
‘But I’m beginning to see that he’s not only staying for the Rebels, but for my brilliant, beautiful, kind-hearted partner. ’
I gape at her. ‘You’re making that up.’
‘I’m not.’ Charlie raises her right hand. ‘Brownie’s honour.’
‘You were never a brownie.’
‘Details.’ She waves dismissively. ‘The point is, he’s staying in Stirling.’
I blink. That wasn’t the plan.
‘I’m going to ask you what you asked me last year.’ She moves, and the cardboard box creaks beneath her. ‘Did he do anything to hurt you, ignore you, treat you like shit? What did he actually do wrong?’
‘Not a single thing.’ I keep staring at the scuffed linoleum.
‘Partner,’ she says with a grin that’s half triumph, half sympathy, ‘you’re in love with him.’
‘I know, dammit.’ I swipe at my face with the back of my hand. ‘But what I don’t know is when you got so good at that?’
Charlie kisses my cheek. ‘I learned from the best. You told me that love can be a superpower. Remember?’
I nod, recalling how I gave her that pep talk when the thing with Brodie went down.
‘The thing is, you can’t control love, Theo. And that’s scary. But,’ she adds with a smirk, ‘when you lose control with someone safe, it sets you free. Ask me how I know.’
‘I’d really rather not.’ But I feel my lips curl upward despite everything.
Charlie pulls another tissue out and hands it to me. ‘Do you know why I made you my partner?’
I dab at my eyes and blow my nose like an elephant in the Edinburgh zoo. ‘Because I’m the best and always have a plan?’
‘No.’ She shakes her head. ‘Because you’re at your best when you don’t have a plan. When the script goes out the window and you improvise… That’s when you shine. Might be time to bin the spreadsheets and go off-script.’
I know she’s right. And I know I’m in love with him. But I’ve already shoved him away once, and I won’t go charging back in without a way to undo the damage.