Chapter 30
Cassidy
Watching G’s little owl body try to fly between the enormous wings of the Delaney family is comical in a way. Then again, I’m punch-drunk. I think everything is funny right now.
When we land, Sarah looks the three of us over. “We’re serving dinner at our house in one hour,” she says. “Don’t be late.”
“I—” I begin, but G elbows me in the side.
“Yes, ma’am,” she says, nodding her head. “We’ll be there.”
Finn puts his hand on the small of my back again, murmuring, “My mother likes you,” as we walk into my house.
“Does she, Finny?” I ask.
He shudders. “My mother is the only person to ever call me that, so if you were going for libido-killing nicknames, you found one,” he whispers, hopefully quietly enough that Georgia can’t hear us. “Not even a nickname, it’s exactly the same number of syllables as Finley, I swear…” he mutters.
I stare at him. It’s delightful to see this side of him that his mother evidently drags out. “I’ll stick with baby, then.”
“Or husband,” he adds, like I’ve somehow forgotten our marriage in the last few minutes. I was the one who bought very expensive beacons for us to wear everywhere announcing to the world that we’re married. I think we can both assume I’m fully on board with it.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I whisper back, turning to G, who stopped in the middle of our living room.
“How’re you here?” I ask, stepping away from Finn so I can take her shoulders in my hands, looking her over.
“Your husband called me,” she says, eyes flicking toward Finn. “And we can talk about you having a whole-ass wedding without me, Cee.”
“If it helps, it wasn’t really a whole-ass wedding,” I defend. “Minimal ass. Town hall. Boring and basic.”
She turns to stare at Finn. “Didn’t mention that detail. You should do better.”
Is this the man she called Mr. Delaney on the phone when we called the other day? Now she looks ready to square up.
I can’t even pretend like I don’t know where she got that from, though. That’s all me, right there.
But all Finn says is, “Believe me, I intend to.”
Oh. That’s—has he thought about it? A proper wedding, our future? I want to ask him about it. I want to hear what he’s dreamed up.
But not as badly as I want to get to the bottom of this. “So, you, what—dropped everything and flew here?” That flight is way too long for her little body; there’s no way she can do that in a day.
She rolls her eyes. “Relax, worrywart. I drove. Stephie lent me her car as long as I have it back before her morning class tomorrow. And I was almost late because I knew you’d kill me if I skipped class, so I sat through the most boring lecture ever before leaving. Only responsible choices over here.”
She’s hours away from college on a school night, but I bite my tongue. “It was nice of you to come,” I tell her. “Thank you for saying what you did.”
Her hands latch around my wrists. “Listen to me,” she says, fire in her eyes. “Of course I came to help. I’m not a little kid anymore, Cee. You can’t hide this shit from me. You don’t need to protect me.”
I bite my lip. I know she’s not a little kid. I know she’s going out into the adult world, and she’ll do amazing things. But that doesn’t change my responsibility to look out for her, to not put my problems on her plate.
“You have school,” I say firmly. “You need to focus on school, on your life. Not on me. It’s not your job to fight my battles for me.”
“Maybe not, but I can fight alongside you,” she says. “Thank you for everything you did. I meant every word I said, and I love you, Cee. I am who I am because of you and what you gave me. But you don’t need to raise me anymore. We’re partners now, right?”
It’s such a monumental mental shift that I don’t know how I’ll make it, but the fact is she’s right. I nod softly, giving her a squeeze. “Alright,” I say. “Partners.”
“Partners,” she echoes, then pulls me into a proper hug. “I’m happy for you,” she whispers in my ear. “The house, the husband—I want you to find good things, Cee. I’m grateful for what you gave me. I’m sorry if it took anything away from you.”
“Never,” I whisper back. Even with the hard days and the steep learning curve, I would do it all again, a thousand times over, to have the brilliant young woman in my arms. “I’m so glad to have you, G.”
“Me too, Cee,” she says, making us both chuckle. I don’t think I imagine the teary tone from both of us.
She pulls back. “Alright,” she says, sniffing back her tears and straightening her spine. I know where she got that from, too. “So. The house is ours. You’re staying in town. You got married. Anything else I should know?”
I shake my head, smiling now. “No, think you’re nice and caught up,” I promise her.
“Good. You know, for someone who texts me every day, you don’t tell me shit.”
I should really scold her for the swearing. Instead, I say, “I’ll do better. Promise.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
A throat clears behind us, and I jump. It’s not that I forgot my husband was here, but I got so caught up in Georgia that it slipped my mind for a second.
“Not to take away any time you two have together,” he says slowly, “But would you mind seeing if my parents need any help, Georgia? Let yourself in; the door is unlocked. And Cassidy and I’ll be along in a few minutes. ”
She gives me a long look, but I nod. I want every minute with her, too, but I need a second with Finn first.
“Ask Cassidy, I’m a menace in the kitchen,” she says. “But I am excellent at setting tables and fetching things. See you in five minutes, or I’m coming back to get you,” she says the last words like a threat, and then walks out of the house.
My heart only hurts a little as she walks away. It’s not as bad as the day I dropped her off at school. Progress.
Finn waits until she’s completely gone, then asks, “Are you mad at me?”
It’s a fair question. I’d told him that I didn’t want Georgia to know. “Why’d you do it?” I ask him.
He’s silent for a minute, but then admits, “Because you talked about her coming back here someday and not wanting her to know that her neighbors hurt you. But I thought—if I was her, I wouldn’t want to come back here and not know that I’d done everything I possibly could for the person who matters the most to me.
” He pauses, then admits, “That goes for me, too. I couldn’t go today without knowing I prepared every tool in our arsenal. ”
It’s incredibly thoughtful, and I don’t miss that he implies I’m the person who matters most to him. I take a step toward him, holding out my arms. He takes the hint and pulls me into a hug.
“She wouldn’t have forgiven me if I didn’t tell her,” I admit, seeing what I didn’t earlier.
Eighteen is a complicated age. Georgia is an adult according to the law, but we all know that she’s still young and learning.
Even so, she’s not the little kid she once was, and I owe it to her to start handing her adult things.
It’ll be slow, and I’ll be there to help her carry them, but she’s right; we’re partners in this now.
I’m no longer the guardian meant to shield her from the world.
“Thank you.” I rest my head on his chest, feeling the heat of him as he holds me close.
“I’m glad. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” he murmurs. He rubs my back for a minute, then asks, “And how about us?”
“What about us?” I demand, pulling back so I can look at him.
He bites his lip. “You can stay now, Cassidy. No one can throw you out of town. This is your house. You don’t need me anymore. Do you still want this?”
He’s actually worried I’m going to say no.
I can see it in his eyes, the way he holds himself.
My husband, my fake-then-real husband, the man who holds me when I cry and wakes up early so he can race me to get chores done, the man who fucks me so good I forget my own name, the man who stepped up today as a partner and husband and made the right decision for Georgia—he really thinks I’m going to leave him now.
Divorce him, keep my house, and, what? Go back to being neighbors?
The idea is abhorrent. “Will you move in here?” I ask him.
“For real, I mean. Not saying you are, not out of a duffle bag. Really live here. Bring your things over. Figure out closet space with me. Get rid of some of the furniture here so we can mix in yours. Take whatever bed is in your apartment that I hope fits your massive frame and move it into our bedroom upstairs. Will you do that?”
His eyes are wide as he nods, watching me with a glassy sort of expression.
Is he about to cry? I reach up and cup his jaw.
“Finn,” I say firmly. “We are married. I don’t care how it started.
If we get re-married because Georgia is going to be a demanding brat about it, great.
I’ll be happy to marry you again. But you are my husband regardless.
And that’s not changing.” I show him my wedding band. “I meant this. Did you?”
I already know the answer, but he nods, eyes still looking ready to spill over with tears. “Of course I did,” he promises. “I’d be honored to spend forever with you, wife.”
His arms are still around me, tugging me closer, running up my sides, and I can get behind this. I lean into him, seeking his warmth, but then he pulls away.
“I want you to be able to spend every minute with your sister before she goes back,” he explains while I pout, which immediately turns my reaction around. Okay, that’s a good point. Time with G is very much limited.
But my husband—he’s never getting rid of me now. We have all the time in the world.