Chapter Twenty-Six - Michaela
Chapter Twenty-Six
MICHAELA
“ANY PROGRESS?” CAIT ASKS twisting a fork into her linguine. I spent the majority of the week avoiding anything and everyone. Cait had enough of my reclusive activities by Friday because she stormed into my office a little before four-thirty demanding I come to dinner. That’s how I found myself sitting across the table at Finestra stuffing our faces with carbs.
“On what?”
“Let’s start with David, seems like an easier topic to discuss.”
I chuckle before taking a bite of risotto. “Is it?”
“We could start with Finn and how he went from asshole to best sex of your life back to asshole again.”
“I never say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” she winks.
I blush and roll my eyes — we are not discussing my sex life. “David still wants the ring, wants me to sell the condo, and now he wants an annulment, not just a divorce.”
“On what grounds? They don’t just hand out annulments for no reason.”
“I coerced him into getting married to get access to his money.”
“But you make—”
“I’m aware, but he comes from money… His family is well known and they’re coming from the angle that I was in it for the perks, not him. They’re saying, I lied about who I was and my intentions.”
“Oh, Michaela,” the sympathy behind her eyes makes me sick to my stomach. “I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”
I shrug, “I guess it’s better to find out who he is now than after twenty years of marriage.”
“You’re sure it’s him? I mean, I know he was always kind of a dick, but I wouldn’t think he’d do something like this.”
“I’m sure his mom has something to do with it, she’s always hated me. Especially after she didn’t get to plan the extravagant wedding she always dreamed of.” I finish the rest of the wine in my glass and pour another. “Just kind of sucks, y’know? It hurts to think he’d want to pretend like we never happened. Because that’s what it is… Pretending like we never got married, like we never mattered.”
“You’ll be better off without him.”
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I don’t want to waste any more on him, I’ve already given him too many the past two days. It is strange to think I’ll be better off without the person I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. How is that possible? When I said, “I do,” I meant it, but I guess that’s not how our story was meant to end..
“And Finn,” I sigh. “Cait, I—I don’t know what is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“We slept together again.”
She drops her fork, and a few eyes look our way at the sudden commotion. “You what! But you haven’t even seen him; you’re not working with him anymore. When did this happen?”
“Sunday… He came over because I had been ignoring him all weekend.”
“Why were you ignoring him?” She asks picking up her fork.
“Cait, he knows.”
“Knows what?”
“Last Friday, David cornered me in SoHo and Finn ran into us on the street. He knows.”
“Holy shit.”
The pit in my stomach continues to grow bigger and bigger.
“Wait, did he tell Josh?”
“No, not yet anyway,” I sigh. “He came over to check on me, one thing led to another and… I doesn’t matter. I told him we need to forget whatever that was.”
“You like him!”
“No.”
“Yes, you do. Oh my God, you like Finn.” Caitlin’s smile grows with each word.
“No, I don’t. He’s a grade-A asshole.” I take a drink of wine.
Caitlin sighs, “Well, you told him to forget it — not the other way around.”
“I didn’t tell him to go back to his old ways.”
“I guess he took it literally.”
"I didn’t mean it literally ." I thought it was best if we pretended like nothing happened, even if those nights we spent together are something I’ll never forget.
“I’m just saying, he’s a man, they’re not mind readers even if we want them to be.”
“If he was a mind reader, he’d know I didn’t mean it.” My eyes widen at the admission. Shit, I didn’t mean to say that. God, I have to stop doing that. “Shut up, Cait,” I say when she smirks.
“I didn’t say a thing.”
Cait turns when I walk out of the restaurant, she tries to hide her smirk. I swear, she’s had one on her face from the moment I told her about Finn round two. “You missed a call.”
“Whoever it is, I’ll call them back tomorrow.” I pull my jacket over my shoulders before taking my purse from her. I’m trying to maintain the good mood spending time with my best friend has put me in. Whatever disaster needs fixing can be handled in the morning.
“Sure about that?”
“Yes.” I eye her suspiciously. “Why?” She hands over my phone, her smirk now on full display. When I click on my home screen, my eyes widen at the top notification: 1 Missed Call: Finn. (Yes, I changed his name from Jabba to Finn. I thought it was time, right?) Why is he calling me?
“I think you should call him back.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He most likely wants to bitch at me about not telling my parents about the divorce yet.”
“Michaela. Call him.”
Before I can second guess it, I click his name, and it rings…and rings…and rings. It's not that important if he can't even answer when I—
“Where are you?” His gruff voice sounds over the speaker.
“Hello to you too?” I scoff.
“Are you home?”
“No, I’m out to dinner with Caitlin. I won’t be home for a while.” I shrug in response to her suspicious look. “Look, if you’re calling to yell at me because I haven’t told my brother, it can wait until—”
“Never mind, just forget it.” Finn hangs up leaving me even more puzzled than before. I stare at my phone, at the blank screen, as if it’s going to give me some answer to what in the hell that was about.
“What did he want?” Cait asks.
“He didn’t say.”
“Well, he said something!’
“He asked if I was home. Why would he want to know if I’m home?” I look between the phone and her.
“You cannot be that dense.” Cait grips my shoulders. “He is making the first move.”
“What are you talking about? There’s no move to make.”
“Michaela. He’s making the first move . This is it, the grand gesture!”
“Where’s the boombox outside my window, then?”
Caitlin smirks, “Waiting for you at home.”
I roll my eyes and hail the cab across the street. This is not a conversation I want to have. “Call me when you get home,” I yell towards her opening my cab door.
“I think you’re going to be a little busy,” Caitlin sing-songs. “Call me tomorrow, give me all the juicy details. Better yet, maybe I'll just happen to be in the area tomorrow and stop by with coffee.”
“Goodbye, Caitlin.” I close the door and give the cabbie my address.
Pulling up to my apartment exactly eight minutes later, I can’t help but laugh when there’s no sign of Finn — or a boombox — outside. Of course, there’s not. So why do I feel disappointed? I knew he wouldn’t be here. It’s not like I actually thought he’d be here waiting for me to pull up. Pfft, no way. I know better than that because Finnley Sheffield is not that kind of man.