Chapter Twenty #2
So you tell him where we go on holiday but not what I do for a living?
He pretended he couldn’t see her thoughts, focused on his dad instead.
“I took the family to Italy when the kids were little,” Andrew said—and there was something behind the sentiment, like he wanted to show he wasn’t a terrible dad. Something about the I took, Finn thought. Or maybe he was just overthinking it.
“Well, little-ish,” his dad continued. “Finn met this Italian girl—do you remember, Finn?” Finn gave a noncommittal shrug.
He did remember the holiday his dad was talking about—he’d been, what, twelve?
He remembered it being hot as hell, his mum pink-cheeked from the sun, Hattie getting an ear infection from staying in the pool too long and screaming bloody murder for days on end.
“I swear,” his dad continued, shaking his head, “you couldn’t say two words to one another, but that didn’t seem to stop you. Had yourself an Italian girlfriend by the end of the trip.”
Finn laughed, but it sounded a little hollow. He couldn’t work out if it was odd, that that was the thing his dad had chosen to remember from their family holiday.
They carried on chatting for a while, Finn’s beer growing warm in the sun.
Andrew didn’t ask about Hattie or Mark or Susan—but, then again, he didn’t tend to.
Finn knew that Hattie’s relationship with him was strained at best—and Mark exchanged cursory calls, likely at Kristen’s behest, but it wasn’t like they ever all met up together.
When his dad headed to the kitchen to get together some snacks and more drinks, Finn followed him to help, giving Mel’s shoulder a squeeze as he passed. She smiled up at him, no sign of tension around her gorgeous eyes. Maybe she really was as relaxed as she was pretending to be.
“So what do you think of Mel?” Finn asked as he grabbed some more drinks from the fridge.
“She’s a stunner,” his dad said.
“She is,” Finn agreed. But it sat a bit oddly—because Mel’s looks weren’t the most interesting thing about her. He’d never asked his dad’s opinion on a girl before—wasn’t really sure what to expect.
His dad dumped some crisps in a bowl, then paused, looking over at Finn. “Girls like that,” he said slowly, “they’re in it for the long haul, Finn.”
Finn rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“I mean it. They’re not made for the likes of you and me.”
It was like a punch to the gut. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His dad hesitated, and Finn knew that he’d heard the defensiveness in his tone. “She’ll want to settle. That’s all I’m saying.”
“And?” It was a demand. Because who the hell was his dad to be dishing out unwanted advice like this?
“I made a mistake with your mum,” his dad said, as if he could see the direction of Finn’s thoughts.
“I hurt her. And I’m sorry for it. I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but I am.
I regret what I put her through. What I put you all through.
” It was the closest he’d ever come to an apology.
“But I wasn’t built the way she—you all—needed.
I should never have settled down—perhaps if I’d been honest about that up front, I could have saved a lot of heartache. ”
Finn had no idea what to say to this. He wondered if his dad had ever broached the subject with his mum—ever offered any kind of explanation. He doubted very much if his mum would have demanded one, given what he’d seen, growing up, of their relationship.
“That girl out there loves you, plain for anyone to see,” his dad said, matter-of-fact. “And I like her—a lot. But I know you, Finn. You and me, we’re built the same. You’ve got my genes. One girl, one place—it won’t be enough for you. You’ll only end up disappointing her in the long run.”
He clapped Finn on the shoulder, then turned away with his bowl of crisps—like that was it, point fucking made, case closed.
Like he could just damn his son like that and walk away.
Finn knew he should be angry—could actually imagine what Mel would say if she’d overheard this.
Knew she’d have cold fire in those blue eyes as she defended Finn, stormed after his dad and demanded an apology.
But he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel the same.
There was a horrible twisting in his stomach, a clammy feeling seeming to spread across his whole body.
But it wasn’t anger driving it—it was fear that his dad was right, that he wasn’t good enough for Mel.
That he’d only end up disappointing her.
He knew Mel clocked the change in him for the rest of the visit, though she did her best to keep the conversation flowing. His goodbye with his dad was stilted on his part—not helped by the knowing look his dad gave him as he hugged them both goodbye.
The sun was still bright as they took a detour to the shoreline, Mel demanding they stop for ice cream. He could feel her gaze on the side of his face, piercing him, the whole time in the queue, though she waited until they both had their cones to speak.
“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’m going to have to beat it out of you.”
Finn couldn’t help snorting. “Resorting to threats of violence now, are we?”
She shrugged. “I don’t work out for nothing, you know.”
He cocked his head. “Would we define yoga once a week as working out?”
“Well, I would.” She poked him in the ribs. “Now spill.”
He raked his free hand through his hair, holding his mint choc-chip ice cream with the other.
“It’s nothing.” He wasn’t going to tell her, was he?
He didn’t want to give her a reason to walk away.
“It’s just, seeing my dad, it always makes me feel…
” He trailed off, gesturing with his cone.
She licked her ice cream, but he could see the contemplation on her face—and knew she was going to press the issue.
“Mel, if I moved to London, if I got a job there…Would you…?” He’d blurted it without thinking—a need to distract her combined with a need to ask her now—rather than after he’d gotten a job as he’d planned. Only now he couldn’t figure out how to get the words out.
She turned to face him with that very direct look he knew and loved. “Finn. Are you asking me if I want to move in with you?”
He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Well, sort of. I don’t have anywhere to live so you can’t really move in with me, but—”
“Yes.” She grinned, then leaned up to kiss him. He tasted the vanilla of her ice cream, then the taste that was only her. The taste that always left him wanting more. She pulled back, her eyes matching the color of the ocean. “Of course I want that, Finn.”