Page 20 of The Neighborly Thing To Do
So, so many things. This whole day has been bizarre. And to think it started with me sleeping in and thinking that, for once, everything was looking up.
“Well,” I say, and to my horror, my voice is a lot thicker than I’d like. I cannot cry on this man every few days. That is colossally unfair to both of us. “I guess getting married wasn’t even worth it. We can dissolve it before you get any deeper into my mess.”
“What? Why?” he demands, arm tightening around me.
I debate sliding off of him and onto the available couch cushion. Or half a cushion, anyway; moving off his lap wouldn’t put that much more space between us. And heiscomfortable. “Didn’t you hear him? This town is going to get to vote on if I can stay or not. We both know how that will end.”
Some people here like me, but I doubt they like me enough to keep me over Hugh and his promises. The damned mayor sided with Hugh already; this is going to go badly for me.
“We don’t know how it’ll go,” Finn retorts. “No one does, but I think abandoning our plan before we even try is a mistake.”
I roll my eyes. I never pegged this guy as an optimist. “Finn, we both know that any story about Hugh and me is going to end with them choosing him. He’s the sorcerer, and I’m just ahuman. People like me, but not at the expense of someone who they see as more belonging here.”
I should call my mother. It looks like I’ll need to stay with her after all. And G can pass well enough in the human world—it isn’t like when she was young and couldn’t control her shifts or her magic—so we’ll be able to see each other, at least. It’s not the same, but it’s better than nothing.
Finn’s huge hand grips my chin and tilts it so I’m looking at him. “Cassidy,” he says firmly. “Nothing is set in stone. This towndoeslove you. Hugh walked away twenty years ago.”
“That’s all well and good, but you heard him. He’s building these hotels and making towns money, and I’m justthis,“ I say, unable to find the words to encompass what I am.
He’s quiet for a second. “You stepped up when we needed you, even though you had no obligation to.”
“Of course I did, G is mysister—”
“You were nineteen,” he interrupts me, and something in his voice makes me ache. “No one would have blamed you if you couldn’t do it. But you came for Georgia, and you did a damned good job. Look at her, a college student now. That’s because of you.”
“Not just me,” I demur, because Georgia had teachers and friends’ parents, and of course a lot of the credit goes to G herself, and—
“You,” he repeats firmly. “You did that for her. You stepped up. You deserve to be here, and everyone with half a brain knows it.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I blink rapidly to fight them back. No one ever said that before. It was just expected, like when my Dad died I was suddenly an adult who knew how to do all this, and there was no more room to learn. But I wasn’t. I was a kid and I tried my best, and to have someone say that I did good? That I went above and beyond, and should be recognized for it?
I need to stop crying on Finn. I should have slipped something about comforting me when I’m crying into my wedding vows, but, in my defense, I didn’t think I’d need it. I’ve kept a pretty tight lock on my tears for the past decade.
Finn apparently doesn’t need any wedding vows to bind him to take care of me when I cry, because he moves his hand from my chin to my hair, petting through it gently, if a bit clumsily. “We’re going to win this thing, Cassidy. We’ve got a little time to convince the town.”
“What’re you going to do?” I ask once I get the tears under control. “Remind them all of the sob story of how I raised Georgia?”
“I was more thinking that we lean hard into what we started tonight. We remind this town that we’remarried, and this house is for us, not him. That our marriage and future are as valid as any of Hugh’s plans.”
“But it’s not,” I point out. “Ours is going to end.” Something in my chest twists when I say it, but it has to be said. Maybe we both need the reminder.
It’s dead silent in my living room for a moment, those words ringing out like a gunshot. “They don’t need to know that,” Finn says. “All they need is exactly what we show them.”
I consider it. I’m still not convinced it’ll work, but anything is better than doing nothing. It’s not in my nature to quit, no matter how often I might be tempted to do so. “And you’re ready to commit to that?” I ask dubiously, because I need to be sure. “Finn, no offense, but I see you off your own property like once a week, and that’s only because you need groceries. You’ll have to be seen in towna lotto make this work.“ It’ll be a whole circus that’ll make the crowd staring at us at Donnel’s tonight look tame by comparison. It’ll involve acting, and even lying straight to the faces of people he’s known since childhood. Even an outgoing person would find it grating.
“I’m ready,” he promises me, and he sounds so sure that I can’t doubt him. Not yet, at least. We’ll see how it goes when we actually have to do this.
“Now, that’s a lot for one night,” Finn says. “And I was promised rom-coms. So, teach me what I need to know.”
Iknewhe wasn’t a big rom-com watcher. I should make sure he sees a couple, so he can talk about them when someone interrogates us about all those dates we supposedly went on.
Thankfully, G and I have a truly ludicrous amount downloaded, so I grab the TV remote. It doesn’t escape my notice that he doesn’t let me off his lap. It’s probably a good idea. We should practice for what people will expect of us.
I hit play on10 Things I Hate About Youand settle back against him. This seems like a good movie for him to start with.
When I wake up, I’m in Georgia’s bed with no memory of how I got there, but I’m still wearing my work clothes from yesterday. I have fuzzy recollections of Finn holding me, and a couple of movies, and then—
Nothing. I highly doubt I walked here under my own power, which means he must’ve carried me to bed.
