Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Finley
I head down the stairs, feeling sick to my stomach. I held it together in Alex’s room, but now that I’m alone, the facade crumbles.
I can’t bring myself to face Mallory and her mother just yet, so I sneak out the back door and pace in the snow-packed backyard, pulling in cold air that only makes my chest ache more.
Why are you so upset? You already knew he wasn’t interested in dating you. He made that clear yesterday.
I walked into this situation with eyes wide open—this was a platonic, transactional relationship. I’m getting more than my fair share out of the deal, so how can I complain?
But knowing it isn’t the same as hearing it. Hearing him tell Roland he’d never sleep with me was one thing. Hearing the disgust in his voice when he said it—like the idea repulsed him—lodges in my chest like a shard of glass.
Tears sting my eyes, and I let them fall, telling myself they’re for my mother. I always cry around Christmas, when missing her feels unbearable. That’s why I’m sobbing in the backyard. Not because of that jackass upstairs.
Except he’s not a jackass. He never once led me on. He made it clear from the start that this was an arrangement, not a relationship. That makes him honest. And sure, he finds the thought of sleeping with me revolting, but he’s never been rude about it. He can’t help how he feels, right?
Still, my tears won’t stop. I swipe furiously at my cheeks with frozen fingers when I hear footsteps crunch on the side of the house.
I look up to see Tyler rounding the back corner of the house with several shopping bags in his hands. He halts when he sees me. I freeze too. Unless he’s blind, there’s no hiding that I’ve been crying.
He drops the bags on the sidewalk and takes a few steps closer, uncertain. “Finley, are you okay?” He winces. “Sorry, dumb question. Obviously, you’re not.” His gaze flicks toward the house. “Do you want me to get Alex?”
My eyes widen in panic. “No!” The last thing I want is for Alex to know I’m out here crying. “I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.”
He stands in place, shoving his hands in his pockets, then waits a beat before he asks, “Did you give Alex his phone?”
“Yeah.” I swipe at my tears again, annoyed they won’t stop.
“Did that go okay?” he asks cautiously.
“Yeah,” I say, but it comes out shaky. I try forcing a smile. “He was on a call with his partner, so—”
“He was on a call when I found his phone in the snow?” His eyebrows lift.
“A video call.” But the thought of the call brings another hot stab of tears.
“Finley,” Tyler says softly, taking a step toward me. “You’re obviously not okay.”
“I will be,” I say, trying to assure him, but I’m trying to assure myself too. “I just need a minute.”
He hesitates. “Do you want me to get my sister?”
“No.” I let out a short laugh. “Please don’t. She’ll insist on digging into this, and I just need to have a good cry and move on.”
He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve got her pegged.”
“She wears her heart on her sleeve.” I wipe more tears from my face. “So, it’s not that hard.”
“Kind of like you,” he says, then looks like he wished he hadn’t said it. “What would help? Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Do I want to be alone? I’m not sure. I spend most of my life alone, even though I’m surrounded by people. Other than Barb and Mirna, this is the first time in years I haven’t felt utterly alone—and it’s with Alex’s family. The irony makes my chest hurt.
“There has to be something I can do,” Tyler pleads, sounding helpless. “I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”
I draw in a deep breath, trying to get ahold of myself. The last thing I need is for someone else to find me like this. I need a distraction, and I know the person to provide it. “I think I’ll just call my friend,” I say with a small, wavering smile, even as more tears spill.
He nods, uncertain.
“Thanks for stopping and making sure I’m okay,” I say, sniffing.
“Of course,” he says. “What kind of asshole would I be if I ignored you and went inside?”
I release a short laugh as a tear slides down my cheek. “I’m sure some men would.”
He shoots a dark look up at the house, then back at me. “I’m gonna give you my number, okay?”
I narrow my eyes. “Why?”
“Because the fact my brother is upstairs and you’re down here crying alone means he’s being his usually self-centered—”
“He doesn’t know I’m upset,” I cut in quickly. The last thing I want is to create a rift between him and Alex. “I’m sure he’d comfort me if he knew I was out here.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t the fact you’re down here crying seem like something a boyfriend should notice?”
I start to protest but stop. He’s right. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is with my brother,” he says, disappointment in his tone.
“Look,” he lifts a shoulder in a half shrug.
“My family can get a little overwhelming, especially once Grant and his girlfriend show up tomorrow. If you feel the need to escape, or take a breath, or just have a good cry”—he gives me a soft smile—“all you have to do is text me and I’ll create a distraction, okay?
I promise I’m not hitting on you. I just want to make sure you’re okay. ”
I consider his offer, then nod. I pull out my phone, add his number as he rattles it off, and send him an empty text so he has mine.
“I’m not planning on using that,” I say, holding up my phone.
“I hope you don’t need it,” he says. “But it’s always good to have a backup plan.” He studies me for a moment, then picks up the bags and opens the back door.
“Tyler,” I say hesitantly.
He turns to look at me.
“I’d appreciate it if you kept my little breakdown to yourself.” I grimace. “It’s… kind of embarrassing.”
“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says gently. “But I understand. Your secret is safe with me.” Then he disappears into the house.
I’m alone again, and I shiver, realizing I came outside without a coat. The sun’s shining, but it’s probably in the twenties and I’m not used to this kind of cold. Still, I need a few more minutes, so it’s not so obvious I’ve been outside crying.
And I really do want to hear Barb’s voice. I call her, and she answers on the first ring with a perky, “How goes it in Christmasland?”
A laugh slips out of me, shaky but real. “It’s Hollybrook.”
“Same difference,” she says dismissively.
My plan had been to unload everything that just happened, but now that I hear her voice, I realize I just need the comfort of it. “I baked sugar cookies this morning. And a yule log.”
“Are you going to burn the yule log in the fireplace or a bonfire?”
That pulls a laugh out of me. “Neither. We’re going to eat it.”
“Are you stayin’ with a family of beavers? I thought a yule log was a piece of wood stuffed with crap.”
“Maybe it is, but in this family, it’s a chocolate cake baked on a sheet pan, then rolled up with a cream filling.”
“That sounds more like my kind of yule log,” she says.
“Mine too,” I admit, feeling a surprising surge of homesickness.
“What’s wrong, Fin?” she asks softly.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“You sound stuffy—like you’ve been crying or came down with a cold.”
“Maybe I caught something from caroling last night.”
“Not likely.” She’s silent for a moment. “Is Alex treating you, okay?”
“Yeah.” Because he is. I was the one who overheard his conversation. He hadn’t meant for me to hear.
“And his family?”
“Sooo nice,” I say. “Almost unbelievably so.”
“Then what’s wrong, Fin?”
Tears sting my eyes again, but I can’t make the words come.
“Sometimes we think we want something and then when we get it, we realize it’s not what we imagined.”
I turn that over. She’s implying I built this trip up into a dream that couldn’t live up to expectations.
But the opposite is true. It’s better than I imagined—at least until I overheard Alex.
But if I tell her, she’ll be furious with him and insist I come home.
For some reason, I want her to still like him.
“Maybe,” I say instead. “I’m also missing Mom.”
“That’s only natural,” she says gently. “You and your mom planned something like this for years. Now you’re doing it without her. Of course there’s guilt mixed in.”
“Yeah.” I swallow, realizing she’s right, though only a little. Because I know Mom would be thrilled that I’m living our dream. “Right before she died, she told me to take risks. But maybe this one was too big. Maybe I should’ve started smaller.”
“Nah,” she says with certainty. “This seems like exactly the kind of risk she wanted you to take.”
I’d thought so too, but now I’m not so sure.
“They aren’t called risks for nothin’. Sometimes risks don’t pan out, but sometimes they do. But if you play it safe your whole life, you’ll miss out on some amazing adventures, so look at this like one—a story to tell your kids in twenty years.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sniff, wiping my cheeks again. “I like that.”
“Try to enjoy the ride, Fin. And if it’s not worth staying, come home. Don’t worry about askin’ Alex for a plane ticket, just call me and I’ll buy one for you.”
“Mirna offered the same thing.” I laugh. “Not that I’d ask either one of you.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” she says with a chuckle. “But I’ll do it anyway. Promise me if it’s all too much that you’ll let me know, and I’ll get you home.”
It’s a sting to my pride but I say, “Okay. I promise, but I don’t expect to be coming home early.”
“I hope you don’t either, but it’s always nice to have a backup plan.”
Tyler said the same thing, and I realize I’ve probably been out here too long. Valerie was heating up lunch when I took Alex his phone. They’re going to wonder where I’ve been.
“Barb, I should go,” I say, wiping one cheek then the other. “We’re about to eat lunch then we’re going to the Christmas market. It’s supposed to be like the German ones.”
“That sounds fun,” she says, then her voice lowers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I just miss you.”