Chapter 23 #2
“Apparently I rejected his advances.” I rubbed my scalp with my fingernails.
“The thing is…I’m pretty sure I would remember if I’d done that.
Because I was struggling with my sexuality with all the other crap going on in my life.
I mean—” I grunted. “I have no memory of anything between this guy and me. Like none. Which makes me wonder if I was either truly that clueless or if this thing—whatever it was—only happened in his head.”
“Or he’s lying.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t understand.”
“This is incredibly complicated. He wanted to take down the council member so a building project got approved.”
“Yes.”
“And he used you because…you turned him down when you were younger? Does that make sense to you?”
For the umpteenth time, I rubbed my forehead. “No, it doesn’t make sense. It never did. Which is why I didn’t see it coming. Anyway, he’s in the wind, the development wound up getting approved, and the council member—” My breath hitched.
Finn sat straighter. “What happened to her? I only saw the retraction and your apology. I never did see anything more.”
“The Sun didn’t want anything to do with the whole mess. They were very happy to cut me loose.” I gazed up at the ceiling. “Things…didn’t go well for her.”
“But she was innocent. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Sure. But the stress of being accused…that was a lot.”
The moment held. Please don’t ask me. I don’t want to go back to that place. I don’t want to admit the depth of my culpability or my breathtaking stupidity.
Finally, Finn broke the silence. “Can you talk about it?”
“She was pregnant. Miscarriage—” I waved my hand. “It’s not publicly known and obviously, you can’t say anything.”
“I would never.”
“I know. And I don’t know if the stress caused the miscarriage or if she would’ve lost the baby anyway.
That’s just something I have to live with.
If I’d been less reckless—" I swallowed. “If I’d asked better questions. If I’d taken the time to question motives.
If I’d looked at things objectively. If only—”
“You know that’s not productive, right? That overthinking thing?”
“But—”
“Ulysses.”
“Yeah.” Finally, I met his gaze.
“You didn’t set out to cause harm. You didn’t deliberately target her.
You did what you thought was best at the time.
In retrospect, you can see all the choices you made and how they impacted her.
But you didn’t have that knowledge with you at the time and you didn’t calculatingly aim to harm anyone. ”
I nodded.
“Have you told her how you feel?”
I shook my head. “The lawyers wouldn’t let me within a mile of her.”
“Would they even know?”
“You mean you think I should write to her now? Share how I’m feeling? How sorry I am for what I put her through?”
Finn nodded.
“That’s just going to make her relive it. There’s no absolution for me. I fucked up. I lost my job—which was only right. I became a pariah in Vancouver. So I left. And in some ways, I don’t think Mission City was far enough.”
“But the publisher offered you a job.”
I shrugged. “Pretty much. But no matter what your mother thinks…I’m not just hanging out here until things blow over back in the city.
That’s never going to happen. I’m not getting my old job back.
I’m not getting a new and better gig. In the end, I’m just grateful I landed on my feet and relatively unscathed. ”
“Relatively.”
“Yeah. That.”
My phone buzzed. I pressed the keypad. “Pizza’s here.”
“We’re not done with this conversation.”
I rose. “Finn, there’s nothing else to say. You knew most of this. Well, some of it. Maybe not how stupid I was. Or how I ruined a woman’s life.” I rose and made my way to the front door.
Inga stood on the other side with two boxes in her arms. She offered me a wide smile. “Doubly hungry tonight?”
“Company.” I took the boxes from her.
“Oh?” She subtly tried to look over my shoulder. Well, given how short she was, it was more like her trying to gaze around me.
“Friend.”
“Okay.” She attempted to look disinterested.
I wasn’t fooled for even a moment. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for the big tip. Have a nice night.” She headed back toward the elevator.
I re-entered the condo.
Finn was in the kitchen, retrieving plates. He offered a grin. “Curious delivery driver?”
“You heard that?”
He nodded.
“Yep. Inga. Do you know her?”
“No one delivers pizza to my place. Well, there’s one place…but I don’t like their pizza.”
“Ah. So you either have to cook your own or head into town?”
He put the plates on the counter. “It’s called planning ahead.
When you live as far out as I do, you make lists and check them twice.
You figure out what you can get done before and after shift.
I mean, I suppose I could run into town more often than I do.
But I hate polluting the environment and wasting time.
I love Domino’s, though. So good choice. ”
“Ah. I don’t need to ask if this is the place that delivers but you don’t like them.”
“They don’t deliver my way, and I love them. When I’m treating the folks at the firehouse, this is what I pick. Others are okay…but these are the best.”
“You want carrots or celery or—”
“I just want pizza. But, thanks.” He waited for me to put the boxes on the counter.
Where I expected him to dive in, though, he didn’t. Instead, he held his arms open wide for me.
After a long moment, I stepped into the embrace.
“You’re not a bad person.” He whispered the words in my ear. “Maybe, eventually, you might be able to forgive yourself? Just something to consider.”
I clung to him. How many times had I tried to tell myself those exact words? That although I’d been stupid and na?ve, I hadn’t been malicious. I hadn’t intended to hurt someone. Well, someone innocent. “I don’t know if I can. Forgive myself.”
“Which is why I think you need to reach out to her. But that’s between you and her.” He squeezed extra-tight. “Now…I’m fucking starving.”