Chapter Thirty-Four #2
A hand touches my shoulder, and I spin around.
“Whoa—sorry, Lannie,” Finn says, lifting his hands.
Relief hits me the instant I see him. I go to him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my face to the warmth of his chest. The moment his arms close around me, something in my chest cracks open.
The tears that wouldn’t come before finally spill, and a sob breaks from me.
Finn holds me tighter, rubbing slow circles over my back.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair.
I clutch at his coat as the sobs keep coming.
Once they start, I can’t seem to stop. I cry for every month I believed my parents had chosen not to write, for the hope Ronin’s letter gave me, and for all the words Grandmam threw away before I ever had the chance to read them.
By the time the sobs begin to ease, my throat is raw. I loosen my grip on his coat and pull back enough to wipe at my face. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t be.” Finn doesn’t let me go. “Your grandda said you ran out and thought I might find you here.” His voice is tight with worry. “What happened?”
I lower my eyes and draw a shaky breath, trying to work out where to begin.
Finn waits, his arms still around me. “Ronin’s been writing to me.
Ever since he left Ireland.” I make myself look up at him.
“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I just wasn’t ready to talk about it.
” I swallow. “In the last one, he mentioned my parents had written to me, but I had no idea what he meant.”
Finn’s brow pulls together. “What do you mean?”
I shake my head. “I never got any letters from them. I haven’t heard from my parents since I came home.
” I wipe at my cheeks again. “A few months after I came home, I thought about writing to them. But Grandmam told me it wasn’t my place to reach out after what they’d done.
She said if they had something to say to me, they should be the ones to say it first. So when Ronin said they had written, I couldn’t make sense of it.
If they’d written, why hadn’t I gotten anything?
I finally asked Grandda about it today. Then Grandmam came in, and she admitted they had. ”
“So your parents did write to you?” Finn asks. I nod, and he goes quiet as he takes that in. “Well then, did she give you the letters?”
My throat tightens around the next words, but I force them out. “She threw them out, Finn.”
He stares at me. “Jesus.”
A broken laugh escapes me. “I don’t even know what they said.
I don’t know if they were sorry, or angry, or disappointed in me.
I don’t know if they missed me at all. I don’t know if they wrote to tell me I was wrong, or if they wrote to say they should’ve done more.
” My voice catches. “I’ll never know now. ” Another tear slips down my cheek.
Finn reaches up and brushes it away with his thumb. “She had no right. I’m sorry she did that to you.” His hand stays against my cheek as he steps closer until I can feel his breath against my lips.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. His eyes drop to my mouth.
Then he leans in and kisses me, soft at first, like he’s still giving me the chance to pull away.
My breath catches, but I don’t move back.
Instead, my fingers slide along his jaw as I rise onto my toes to meet him.
That’s all he needs. His mouth opens over mine, deeper this time, and his tongue brushes against mine.
A small sound escapes me as I kiss him back.
One of his hands tightens at my waist, pulling me flush against him, while the other cradles the back of my head. He holds me there as the kiss deepens until I’m gripping his shoulders just to stay upright.
When we break apart, neither of us moves right away. His face stays close to mine, his breath still warm against my lips. I know I wanted him to kiss me. But now that he has, I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.
He’s still watching me, maybe waiting to see what I’ll do.
So I give him a small, uncertain smile, and his whole face lights up.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says, excitement creeping into his voice.
“Da said your grandda’s agreeable now the annulment’s done.
I’ll make you happy, Lannie. I swear I will.
We can take our time with everything, but once the match is settled—”
The word match lands like a stone in my stomach.
I stare at him, my smile fading. My annulment’s done? Grandda already agreed? They’ve been talking about my future like it’s already decided. Like I’m not even part of it.
“Lannie?” Finn says softly.
When I don’t answer, he gently hooks a finger beneath my chin and tips my face up. I let him. The excitement leaves his face when our eyes meet.
I turn my head away, and his hand slips from my chin.
I can’t look at him. I hadn’t expected this.
Why wouldn’t he have told me before? I thought this—him, me, us—was something we were figuring out together.
But standing here now, with his words still hanging between us, all I can think is how quickly it’s turned into the same thing again.
My father. Grandda. Ronin.
Now Finn.
Nothing has changed.
“Alannah,” Finn says again, softer this time. “What is it?”
“I just…” I swallow. “I need a little space, Finn.”
When I finally look at him, the hurt is there before he can hide it. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then seems to think better of it. “All right,” he says quietly. “All right.”
I nod, because I don’t trust myself to speak again.
He stays where he is for another moment, like he’s hoping I’ll change my mind, then takes a small step back. “I’ll go,” he says. “Just… don’t stay out here too long. You’re already soaked through, and it’s turning cold.”
I watch him head back up the lane, his figure growing smaller until I can’t make him out anymore.
Then I’m alone again.