And third and twenty-fourth thoughts. “You would have done the same thing, right?”
Cathy pulled her mouth to one side, then the other, as if considering her words carefully. “Do you want an honest answer to that, or do you want reassurance?”
“Reassurance,” I said without hesitating.
“You absolutely did the right thing. You said from the start you and Finn together was a monumental mistake. If you’d stayed longer, it would only have gotten worse.”
“Thanks.” I took a deep breath. “Okay, now hit me with the honest answer.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m probably wrong.”
“Tell me anyway.”
She nodded. “Soft version or blunt?”
“Blunt version with soft edges?” I said, trying not to wince.
“Sure.” She assembled her face into a gentle smile. “I think your first instinct is to cut your losses early and run.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, but suddenly I was uncomfortable. “I run?”
“Run might be an exaggeration. But how many times did you move house before you moved in with Finn?”
“Seventeen,” I said, my voice sounding pathetic even to my own ears.
“In how long?”
“Two years. But lots of them had conditions no one would put up with. Panty Stealer House. Police Drug Raid House. Eighty-three Pet Mice House.”
“True, but were there some that only had little things wrong? Things that most shared houses have wrong?”
“Maybe,” I admitted, since we were doing the honest option.
“Also, you haven’t finished your degree. Instead you’re working in a job that’s only temporary to you. One where you’re always poised to leave.”
“Cut and run,” I said faintly.
“And when I got that weird text from Mike about running into his ex, your first instinct was that I should break up with him, not that I should talk it out with him.”
“It was a weird text, though, you have to admit.” She raised an eyebrow and waited until I added, “Which was probably more reason to ask him to explain.”
“Right.” She nodded. “I have a theory. Do you want to hear it, or have you had enough?”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a beat, bracing myself, then opened them. I had a feeling I wouldn’t like what was coming, but Cathy wouldn’t be saying it if she didn’t think it could help. And I needed help right now.
“Go on.”
“You said you moved around a lot as a kid. You probably didn’t get to have long-term friends, meaning you left before any friendships were tested.” She hoisted herself up on the counter. “In early friendships, everyone is still on best behavior.”
“But I’ve kept you and Finn as long-term friends.”
“True. So you can do it.”
“But once we changed the rules and things got difficult, I did it to him as well. God, I’m a mess.”
She smiled with sympathy in her eyes. “You still have me.”
“You should run. Run far. I’m a disaster waiting to happen. Remember I almost ruined your relationship.”
“No, you didn’t.” She screwed up her nose as she thought about it. “Well, yes, you probably did. But I should have trusted him more in the first place, and you were trying to help.”
“Like I was trying to help my brother with Annalise. Or Finn with Marnie—or any of the other people he dated.” Another thought hit. “And when things became difficult with my parents recently, I asked Thomas to invite them over instead of addressing things. Basically I did the cut and run by making them move on. I’m a monster.”
“You’re an imperfect human. Welcome to the club.”
“You want to know what doesn’t make sense, though?” Caught up in a realization, I didn’t wait for her reply. “I crave stability. Crave it so bad I walked out on the man I love over it.”
“You’re right. That doesn’t make sense.” She waved a hand. “Ignore my theory. My theory sucks. Mojitos make sense. Let’s make mojitos.”
I thought back to all those times I’d moved house, to the moment the cut and run instinct had kicked in, looking for the thought or feeling that triggered it. And then I found it, and everything made sense again.
“This is crazy,” I said, “but what I think happens is I start to feel like things are going to be unstable, or change too much, and I freak. Then I get out before things are too bad.”
“So you protect yourself from instability by creating instability?” Her expression was full of what-the-hell and I couldn’t blame her.
What had I been doing to myself? I ran through every possible scenario and it fit the pattern. Cut and run. Even recently with my parents, I’d moved them on to Thomas as soon as their talk with Billie affected the stability of the household.
“Yeah, pretty much.” I gave her a half-hearted smile and we fell into silence for a minute or so before I could bring myself to admit the worst. “What if there was life left in my relationship with Finn and I ran away before I could find out? Do you think that’s possible?”
Her expression softened. “It’s a definite possibility that you owe it to yourself to consider.”
“After all this interfering in other people’s relationships, I’ve basically interfered in my own in the same way. I got out and cut my losses.”
I glanced again at the gleaming, chrome love letter Finn had sent me.
Don’t leave me.
What sort of imbecile would cut and run on a guy like Finn just because she was afraid? Clearly, my kind of imbecile. The kind that figured staying safe and secure was more important than being with a guy who would sneak in to give me an icemaker even when we weren’t together.
“It comes down to one thing, really,” I said, gaze still on the new kitchen appliances. “I can have the stability I’ve always thought I wanted, but lose out on having Finn. Finn. I’d be crazy to choose that option.”
Cathy arched an eyebrow. “You’d have to put up with him moving around while you stayed home,” she pointed out. “Or move around with him.”
I suddenly saw the situation with shining clarity. “But I’d have Finn. Forever. He is my stability, and I’d put up with anything to have him, no question.” I stood. “I have to go.”
She looked wistfully at the icemaker. “I don’t suppose it’s to get mojito ingredients?” she asked hopefully. “So we can christen this baby?”
“Nope.” I was out through the door before she could reply.
Chapter Twenty
Scarlett
When I knocked on the front door of Finn’s house, Billie answered. She didn’t say anything, just grinned. Then she turned and went back inside. Wiping my sweaty palms down my trousers, I followed, patting an excited Harvey on the way.
My heart lurched in my chest when I saw Finn at his new desk. It was covered with haphazard piles of notes and books—as chaotic as the dining table had ever been. I couldn’t see his face, since he hadn’t looked up—he probably hadn’t even heard me knock on the door. He was in his usual position, but he wasn’t wearing his usual pale blue polo shirt. Today he wore a black T-shirt. My eyes stung, so I squeezed them shut for a moment.
“Amelia,” Billie called on her way to the dining table. Even when she reached Finn’s side, he still hadn’t noticed all the movement in the room, apparently engrossed in his research. “Wallet and keys, please,” she said.
“What?” he said, blinking up at her. Then his gaze landed on me, and he stilled. He reached into his pocket and handed Billie his wallet, then found his keys on top of a pile of books on the table and handed them over as well.
Amelia came into the room, squealed my name and hugged me. I hugged her back, even though it meant losing eye contact with Finn for a few seconds.
“Come on,” Billie said to her sister. “We’re going out for burgers. Finn’s treat.”
When they’d gone, Finn stood but stayed on the other side of the table. There were dark circles under his eyes, but his every feature was so familiar I wanted to run to him, to smooth the hair back from his face, just to touch him. I couldn’t, and that hurt down deep inside.