Page 113 of By All Accounts
“You look good,” he said.
“I…”
“I know we didn’t leave things on the best terms.”
I scoffed in spite of myself. “That’s an understatement.”
“I’m sorry about that, by the way. About the way things went in the end.”
“Not sorry about the way they started?”
I’d done a lot of thinking about that too, and I firmly believed the beginning of our misguided relationship was worse than the end of it. They’d had no right to approach anyone to bring into their relationship, but that hadn’t stopped them.
Neil held up his hands in surrender, and I felt the barest hint of relief to see his left ring finger bare.
“Also that,” he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. “Annette and I are done for real now. The divorce is final and everything.”
“Good,” I rasped.
“I’ve been good since.” Neil tucked his chin toward his chest. “Trying to get things on track again.”
“Okay.”
“How have you been?”
I bit the inside of my cheek and swallowed down the taste of copper.
“I don’t want to do this with you,” I told him, even though the words were soft and shaky.
He managed a weak laugh. “I deserve that, but?—”
“There is no but.”
“Annette had me all messed up,” he went on. “You know what I mean? Of course you do. We talked about it that night it was just the two of us?—”
“Neil.”
“She was toxic for me. For you. It’s been hard to start over, and I feel good without her, Finn…but I miss you.”
“Neil,” I said his name again, but he didn’t stop.
“I think about you every day, Finn. I hate how things ended, and I want a chance to make it right.”
He took a step toward me, and I took another step back, almost in the aisle. I glanced toward the front of the store, hoping to see Hunter but coming up empty.
“I don’t?—”
“Finn, please.”
Another step and my back collided with someone’s chest. I turned to find Hunter there, his dark eyes focused on Neil. I righted myself, feeling more capable of defending myself with my brother beside me than I had on my own.
“Who’s this?” Hunter asked, same tone he used in court.
“Neil,” I murmured.
Hunter’s lip twitched. “Neil,” he repeated.
Across from us, Neil let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve never heard my name sound like a slur before.”
