Chapter 36 Finn
FINN
THE ROOM SHE OWNED
Penalty Kill Sacrifice: Blocking shots, doing the dirty work, sacrificing everything for the team—pure selflessness. I think that our marriage works because we’re making sacrifices for each other without keeping score.
I feel naked without her.
The Miami venue is dripping in elegance—towering chandeliers spill golden light across the marble floors, while walls are lined with champagne towers and white roses.
Every table gleams under the weight of crystal and silver, and everyone here looks like they walked straight out of a society magazine.
It’s a charity gala for cancer research—one I’ve supported for years—but tonight, it feels like a goddamn circus.
I’m surrounded by the team, coaches, sponsors, and old faces from the league, and a few Hollywood couples. There’s music, conducive to the occasion and not the locker room. Laughter weaves through the air, but it doesn’t quite reach anyone’s eyes.
I anxiously watch the door. She should be here.
Hell, I’d rather be with her than half the people in this room—but I’d never admit that to anyone. I check my phone under the table, ignoring the sting of judgmental glances.
Still stuck. Weather’s garbage. Delayed again. I’m sorry, Finn. I swear, I’m trying.
My chest tightens. I know she’s not the type to make empty promises. If she says she’s trying, she’s doing everything she can.
And damn it… It means something to me. This thing between us—it feels real. More real than the champagne, the rented diamond necklaces, and the polite applause filling this ballroom.
And I couldn’t be happier about it.
I drift to the edge of the room, hovering near the doors like a man waiting for something he isn’t supposed to want this badly.
“She’s gonna make it,” my brother James says, clapping me on the back as he passes. He’s smirking because everyone’s noticed how distracted I am.
“I know,” I snap apologetically. My phone buzzes again.
Almost there. Sorry.
I don’t even finish reading her text before I walk to the check-in table. The ballroom doors open with a soft click, and suddenly everything is right with the world. She’s here, standing in a room of millionaires, but her simple elegance brings the focus of the room to her.
She must’ve changed at the airport or in the car, because she’s walking in like a goddamn vision—this midnight-blue silk gown that hugs her in all the right places, dipping low in the back, the front just daring enough to draw attention but still leaving plenty to the imagination.
Her heels glint under the lights, and her shapely legs are impossibly long.
Her hair is pinned up, loose tendrils curling around her face, and she’s wearing the diamond necklace I gifted her.
It’s simple and delicate, but it catches the light every time she moves.
Pendant pearls and black sapphires dangle from her delectable earlobe—the ones I love to nibble on because it drives her crazy.
I’m too stunned to speak.
She’s scanning the room, searching, and then her eyes find me.
She mouths I’m sorry again, totally demure and breathless as she walks toward me, but before she can reach me, she gets intercepted.
Of course, it’s Tessa. No event would be complete without an ex or two floating around.
Tessa Langford—my ex. Still clinging to her relevance, and she’s still sniffing around every charity event like she’s looking for husband number two.
I can’t hear their words, but I can see the tension on Kate’s face. Tessa smirks. I’m sure she’s being petty, and it’s words laced with venom, but Kate doesn’t flinch. Instead, she tilts her head, smiles, and says something with a slow, steady smile.
She must have hit a nerve as Tessa’s face blanches, and then Kate saunters away, unbothered, her hips swaying like she owns the floor.
I reach her, kissing her on the lips, I say, “I hope you had a great retort.”
She flashes me a grin, still smug. “I think I defended myself.”
I lean in, my voice low and rough. “What exactly did you say?”
Her eyes gleam. “I just let her know I’m the one you’re fucking now. Every night. All night long.”
I choke on a laugh—I’m unprepared for her fight and turned on as hell.
Kate slips her arm through mine like nothing happened, her head tilting to whisper in my ear, “She wasn’t nice.”
I stare down at her, torn between dragging her out of this place or dropping to my knees in gratitude for whatever luck brought her to me tonight.
“You’re late,” I say, just to push her buttons.
She smiles, wicked and beautiful. “But I showed up.”
And right then, I know one thing for sure.
There’s no one else in this room more worthy of my time.
“Can I get you some food? You must be hungry.”
“OMG, I’m starving.” And the way she looks at me, like I’m her salvation, makes my heart flutter.
I think I love my wife.