Chapter 31 #2
I catch her hand, pressing it to my chest. “Please don’t go,” I whisper, my heart raw.
A tear falls down her cheek. “You know this is best. Just like you know you need to stay.” She rises on her toes and brushes a soft kiss against my cheek.
Mirna’s voice cuts like steel. “Asking her to stay is selfish. And you know it.”
I do. That’s the problem. I want her here more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. But what she needs isn’t me. It’s to get out of this house. And the truth lands like a blow to the gut.
I can’t ask her to stay. But I don’t know how to let her go.
Finley turns to my family. “Thank you for a magical two days. It’s more than I could have ever asked for. You’ve all been so gracious…” Her voice breaks, and it takes everything in me not to pull her into my arms. But I’ve already failed her, and now her friends are here to do what I couldn’t.
“Finley,” Mom whispers, tears spilling. She rushes forward, wrapping her in a hug so fierce that I think she might keep her here by sheer force of will.
Finally, she pulls back, cupping Finley’s cheek.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to Alex. I hope you won’t hold the last eighteen hours against him. ”
Finley nods, and my heart sinks. We only had this week. Once we’re back in Atlanta, our lives go back to the way they were. Only now, the thought of that feels hollow.
Mallory steps in next, hugging Finley while she cries. “You were the sister I always wanted. Please come back. We’ll lock Grant in a barn next time.”
Finley releases a choked laugh. “You’re the sister I’ve always wanted too.”
Dad embraces her quickly, his voice rough. “Young lady, you brought the magic of Christmas back to this family, and you brought home our wayward son. For that, I’ll always be grateful. And as my wife said, I hope you give us another chance, but I understand if you don’t.”
She manages a tight smile. “Thank you.”
Tyler hugs her next. “You deserve the best, Finley. Sorry we didn’t give it to you.”
Grant lingers, shame etched across his face. Finally, he mutters, “Sorry, Finley. I was out of line. I promise to do better. You don’t have to go.”
“Thank you for your apology,” she says, brushing at a tear. “But we both know I need to.”
He nods, hanging his head again.
Mirna steps forward, resting a hand on Finley’s arm. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Finley looks at Mom, then scans the room—her gaze lingering on Grant. “I think it’s for the best.”
“Then go get your things.”
Finley holds her eyes for a beat, then nods and heads upstairs.
We all stand in awkward silence for a few seconds before Mom says, “You ladies traveled all this way. Would you like to stay a little while? We have breakfast casserole and cinnamon rolls.”
Barb perks up immediately. “I could eat.”
Mirna lifts an arm to block her. “You can wait until we get to the Airbnb.”
My heart stutters. “You’re … not leaving today?”
“No,” Mirna says, her gaze cool. “We didn’t know how long this would take, and besides…” She pauses. “Why should Finley not get the winter holiday in Hollybrook she was promised?”
“Does that mean you’re not leaving tomorrow either?” My voice cracks with how desperate I feel.
Her gaze turns arctic. “I don’t think that’s up to me to say.”
A loud, indignant meow comes from the pet carrier.
“Do you happen to have a litter box?” Barb asks. “Maybelle’s been holding it since Boston.”
I glance at the pet carrier—Finley’s cat is inside!—and then at Dad. He makes a face. “We’ve got some sand in the garage.”
“Yeah,” I say quickly. “I can take her out there.” I reach for the handle.
“Don’t try any funny business, young man,” Barb warns. “The villain in Goat’s on You stole the heroine’s goat and tried to blackmail her into sleeping with him to get it back.”
I cringe. I’ve been reduced to the villain of the story. And the worst part? I probably deserve it.
I carry the pet carrier to the garage out back, going through the side door and shutting it behind me. Dad’s got a stack of sandbags in the back corner, so I pour some onto the concrete floor, and hope it will do. We had a few dogs when I was a kid, but never any cats.
Crouching in front of the carrier, I tug the blanket off. A white, fluffy cat with large grey eyes glares at me like she’s trying to suck out my soul.
“Your mom’s not very happy with me right now,” I say. “But you and I can still be friends. I hear you’ve gotta go, so I’m gonna let you out, okay?”
She doesn’t blink—just keeps giving me the death stare—before prancing out like she’s royalty. She struts to the sand pile and takes the nastiest dump I’ve ever seen or smelled.
Gagging, I wave a hand in front of my face. “Good God, Maybelle. What have Barb and Mirna been feeding you?”
“I thought you called her Hellfire,” Tyler says behind me. His voice is sharp. His suspicion is back.
I don’t turn around, keeping my eye on Finley’s cat. I know how important Maybelle is to her. The last thing I want to do is lose her. “Yeah. I usually do, but…” I’m not sure how to finish the thought and don’t even try.
“How is it you didn’t recognize her grandmothers?”
“We told you we were pretty new.”
“How new?” he presses. “Since last fall? As close as she is to them, you’d think you’d have met them by now.”
I straighten, finally facing him. He’s not accusing me of lying about our relationship. He’s accusing me of being a crappy boyfriend.
“Neither one of us have a lot of free time,” I bite out.
He just stares at me, waiting for me to crack.
“You bought her that ornament,” I fire back, my tone a challenge. “Why?”
“Because any fool could see it meant something to her, and you’d already been an asshole to her, so I figured I’d try to make up for it.”
I narrow my eyes. “When was I an asshole to her?”
“I found her crying in the backyard two days ago. I offered to get you, but she practically begged me not to. Which told me you’d already upset her.”
I searched my memory in panic, but it only takes a second to realize when it was—after she overheard my call with Roland.
Dammit. I made her cry. The thought cuts like a knife.
“You know she’s too good for you,” he says flatly.
I do, but I’ll never admit it. “Why? Are you planning to go after her instead? You sure act protective enough.”
“Somebody has to,” he grunts.
“I was going to get the ornament,” I snap, my anger sparking. “But she’s too proud to let me just get it for her, so I asked Mal to go back for it. You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”
The fire in his eyes flickers, easing a fraction.
That’s when I glance down and notice the sand pile. Maybelle’s buried her mess, but she’s vanished.
“Where the hell’s Maybelle?”
He scans the garage. “She’s somewhere unfamiliar so she’s probably hiding.”
We start searching, and I finally spot her perched on Dad’s workbench, crouched behind a toolbox like a white ball of judgment.
“Come here, Maybelle,” I coax, stretching a hand toward her. “Let’s get you back in your carrier.”
She hisses and swats, leaving a deep scratch across my knuckles. Then she launches at me, claws sinking into my chest.
I yelp but, thank God, I have the sense to grab her body instead of swatting her away. Holding her at arm’s length with my hands tightly around her chest, I hurry to the carrier. She’s screeching like a banshee, back claws raking my arms.
To his credit, Tyler grabs the carrier and holds it open. I shove Maybelle inside, earning a few more scratches before Tyler slams the door shut. He gives me an appraising look, some of his animosity easing.
“You’ve got a few war wounds, dude.”
They sting like hell, but I grit my teeth. “I couldn’t lose her cat too.”
He nods, and we head back into the house.
Finley’s in the entryway with her suitcase and wearing the heavy sweater she had on when she first arrived.
Her eyes go wide when she sees me. “Alex!”
“Maybelle’s done her business and all in one piece,” I say, pretending blood’s not running down my arm.
“Same can’t be said for you,” Grant says under his breath.
Finley takes the carrier with one hand, her suitcase in the other, and looks me over. “You didn’t try to pick her up, did you?” she asks, alarm flashing in her eyes.
I shrug, not wanting to talk about my war wounds. Because right now, all I can think about is the fact that she’s about to walk away from me—maybe forever—and the thought rips through me harder than Maybelle’s claws ever could.
“Thanks for everything,” she says hesitantly. “Despite it all, I’m still glad I came.”
That damn lump’s back in my throat. I try to clear it, failing miserably. Instead, I shake my head.
She gives me one last glance before turning and walking out the door. Mirna and Barb follow, but at the threshold, Barb looks back, disappointment etched in her eyes.
“You’re a disappointment, young man. I was sure this was going to turn out just like the couple in Holiday Fake Out.” She shakes her head and marches out the door.
And Finley takes my heart with her.