Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
FINN
A month. A fucking month. How the hell have I survived this long? How have I managed to wake up each morning and push through this feeling of loss and emptiness?
I’ll tell you how—construction.
The company is no longer mine as of last week.
Sam has apparently had the papers ready to go for a while, knowing full well I’d eventually go with it.
I miss the workload, and I miss the team and feeling that sense of pride at the fact that I’ve built something from the ground up, but it’s time for me to move on and start the next chapter.
The next chapter… Yeah, Finn, go on and torture yourself more.
The plans for the new company are under way, with the help of Raze, who has asked to come on board with being an owner.
In the meantime, however, we’re both keeping ourselves busy with my house.
Construction began last week, and Sam insisted on us using one of my teams to do it.
He’s also allowed me to work on it with them, not just as the lead architect, but also as one of the builders.
I need to keep busy. I need my head to stay occupied, otherwise I’ll do something reckless. I’ll message her, call her, go see her, anything that goes against what she needs right now.
Wren has held onto her grudge a lot longer than I thought she would, so that’s been fun.
Living in the same house has been exceptionally awkward, even though she’s barely home now that she’s avoiding me.
From what Gus has told me, she still hasn’t spoken to Oakleigh either, and every time I see her, an argument ensues because I don’t want Oakleigh suffering.
At least Oakleigh’s been getting some good news lately.
A news article circled around the group; an article that told of her new book deal with one of the top publishers in the country.
A fucking six-figure deal. I’ve never been so proud of her.
She’s obviously put everything into finishing that novel.
Raze created a group chat with everyone in—no idea why none of us thought to do that sooner.
When Bash sent the article round the group, the messages flowed instantly.
I wanted to write a message of my own, I really did, but I just didn’t know what to say or how it would be taken, so instead I opted for a much more lovestruck option.
I snuck over to her house and left ten newly crocheted flowers in a little bouquet on her doorstep.
I have no idea if she kept them or threw them away, but I wanted her to know how proud I am; how much I believe in her.
God, I miss her so much. Every day feels like a trial, and I fear I’ll lose it eventually.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I lean forward in my seat to slide it out.
After Raze created the group chat, Bash of course had to go ahead and make one without the girls in it that he called “Finn’s Therapy.
” I told him not to, especially considering the fragile state of Wren and Oakleigh’s friendship, but he reassured me that they have one with Oakleigh in it that I am excluded from.
Sam
@Finley stopped by your house and you’re not there. Don’t tell me you’re back sitting outside the house that is not even a house yet.
Raze
I don’t know where else you expected him to be.
Sam
Somewhere healthier? A fast-food restaurant? A bakery? I’ve heard eating your feelings is a good technique.
Bash
This is terrible counseling.
Agreed.
Jamie
Come by the café, I’ll give you a pity coffee.
If I have any more coffee today, my heart might give out.
Jamie
A fucking green tea, then, just get your ass over here.
I haven’t finished these drawings, yet.
Sam
Yeah, because the fucking house doesn’t even have four walls yet. You can’t make drawings for the inside of a house that isn’t there.
I’m just that skilled.
Raze
Who wants in on the bet that says he hasn’t added anything to the last drawing?
Bash
Ah, hell yeah. I bet all he’s done is draw one line and erased it again.
Fuck.
Sam
I’ll do you one better. I bet he’s written the address on the back of the paper.
Jamie
I’ll bet he’s spilled a drop of beer on the drawing and hasn’t done a goddamn thing to fix it.
Gus
You’re all idiots.
He’s clearly done all of those things. That’s easy money.
Oh, come on.
I’m leaving this group chat.
I shake my head as I lock my phone. It continues to vibrate but I ignore it.
They’re right, I have done every single one of those things. My mind is stumped, but I just need to do something. Anything other than grip the steering wheel and let my mind and body bring me to her. She needs time, I’m giving her time.
So I sit. I sit and I sit for what feels like hours before I hear a car pull up behind me.
I turn to see Bash’s SUV stop next to my car. My new Audi RS6. Seriously, no one warns you of the money craze you get when you become a millionaire.
I face back toward the house and pretend they aren’t here.
The paper that has been sitting idle on my lap since I got here is snatched away. I roll my eyes at the dramatic way Sam looks it over, inspecting it.
“We all win.”
“But you never said how much, idiots,” I say with a small smile.
“Well, shit,” Raze says behind me.
The smile quickly disappears as the thoughts start just as my beer is halfway to my mouth.
It’s been on the floor for a while. You haven’t been watching it.
I inspect the contents of the clear beer bottle, see that there’s nothing in it other than beer and shrug to myself. It’s all good.
My therapy seems to be the only thing giving me actual hope at the moment.
Even though things are going my way, it feels like I’m disconnected from it, like it’s all happening to someone else.
But my therapy sessions are helping to stabilize this new confidence within me.
I’ve been learning the difference between irrational thoughts and reality, which has been leading to a lot less compulsions.
My head feels clearer these days, well, other than the constant thoughts of Oakleigh.
It feels as if I have this new ounce of freedom and with it, I can finally start finding a balance between doing things for myself and those I care about.
Sam sits on the battered grass beside my chair and leans against my leg. The summer sun beats down on us, the humidity even worse than a month ago. My black sleeveless vest already has a patch of sweat on the back of it from where I’ve been leaning against it.
“You need to stop doing this, Finn,” Sam says without looking at me. They must have brought some beer because he’s taking a sip from a bottle.
“Not sure what you mean.”
“You can’t do anything here at the moment. It’s Sunday, man. Have the day off.”
“This is me having a day off.”
“Sitting here and trying to force something creative to happen just so you can take a break from thinking about Oakleigh is not having a day off.”
“Do you not have anything better to do other than play therapist?”
He shrugs. “Not really, no.”
Raze lies down on the grass. “He’s right, though. You need to actually do something fun, chill out, clear your head. You can’t force creativity, boss.”
I’ve told him a hundred times to stop calling me that.
“I’m not your boss anymore,” I remind him.
His eyes are closed as the sun hits his face, but he opens one to squint over at me before closing it again with a smile on his face.
“You’re slowly becoming just as infuriating as them, you know that?”
His smile widens, but he says nothing.
“Look,” Bash pipes up, leaning against a nearby tree. “We know you miss her. It’s obvious. But trying to work yourself down to the bone isn’t going to help that. Ask my brother.”
I squint up at Gus who’s standing beside me, looking out at the concrete foundation that will become my home. “He’s right.”
I shake my head and look down at the beer in my hands. After a while, I say, “I miss her.”
The boys all look at me, I can feel the weight of their stares.
“We know,” Sam says. “But you don’t need to worry. Until she’s got herself, we’ve got her, too.”
That’s something, I guess.