Finn had done many, many wrong things, had made some of the shittiest decisions, but he’d never physically hurt me.
He’d been right to restrain me.
Right to tell me that he wouldn’t let me do that again.
I couldn’t believe I had, to be honest.
Yet, when he talked about Imogen, when he tossed his opinions down, when he declared he was going to take away our chances of having another child, I wanted to shake him because that felt like the only way he’d listen to me.
That he’d hear me.
Paddy stayed for around four hours. I was polite and spoke when he asked me something, but when we finished dessert, I retreated to the kitchen until he left.
When the elevator descended, taking him with it, I half expected Finn to return to the kitchen to hash things out again.
It was only when he didn’t that my heart sank.
I felt like a candle flame with a wet wick. It kept fizzing in and out, the flame dying before it surged back to life.
Finn did that to me.
He made me feel alive when I was sure parts of me were dead.
And that triggered more guilt.
He’d hidden the truth from me. He’d stopped my mother’s murderer from finding justice.
How could I still feel so reliant on him?
My mom would hate it, might even hate me for being weak… but maybe I was.
Maybe that was a character flaw of mine.
Maybe the reason Finn and I worked so well together was because I let him take charge.
“Maybe you’re just fucking weak,” I muttered to myself as I baked.
When Finn left me to it and went to bed without saying goodnight, I baked some more.
And I carried on through the night until the following dawn. I barely ate, and I didn’t drink all that much. I stopped to put Jake to bed twice, to nurse him and change his diaper when he woke up, but then I went right back to it.
At five AM, I messaged Billy, my runner, to come to the apartment to pick up all the things I’d developed.
Most of them were new products, things I was trying out. My life was a mess, but the only thing that made sense were my recipes.
I had more stacks of Tupperware than a Tupperware party by the time the elevator buzzed. Heading into the hall as the doors opened, I frowned when I saw Billy wasn’t alone.
“Louise? What are you doing here?”
She shot me one of those pitying smiles that made me want to curl up into a ball and die.
In my kitchen, no one pitied me.
Outside was another matter entirely.
“When he told me what he was picking up, I said that he’d probably need help. So, here I am.”
Nodding in understanding, I jolted in surprise when I heard the heavy padding of feet behind me.
It wasn’t like I didn’t know it was Finn, but Louise’s eyes lit up like a stoplight and that had me narrowing mine as I turned around and saw him in a pair of gray sweatpants, striding forward, his destination? Me.
He approached with a frown, demanding, “What the hell’s going on?”
I might have been upset with my husband, but every instinct I possessed wanted to rage at the way Louise was eying him up like he was one of my brownies. I could feel my claws extending with the desire to swipe them at her. That was when I knew I was losing it.
Louise had been a trusted member of staff for years.
And as big of a jackass as Finn was, I knew he’d never cheat on me.
Still, I cast him a look, curious if he reacted to Louise’s evident attraction to him, but unsurprisingly, his focus was all on me.
“Aoife?” he bit off angrily.
I pursed my lips. “They’re here to collect the prototypes I’ve been making.”
“Prototypes?” he repeated.
“While interest in the bakery is at a peak, it’s a good time to gauge response to new recipe ideas,” I said quietly, stepping away from him and heading for the kitchen.
As I did, I noticed the gun he had tucked into the back of his sweatpants and had to shake my head.
I was well aware that he didn’t realize I’d noticed, but I had extra guards despite the fact we were so high up even the birds felt nauseated when they looked down.
With extra security in the lobby and all the alarms we had now, I had no idea who he thought would get to me.
Even if it stirred something in me that he was so protective, I shoved it away as Billy was saying, “Holy crap, Aoife! Do you think we should hold off on producing our regular menu to work through this stock?”
I shot him a look, well aware that Louise was out in the hall with Finn still.
Ears pricked to see if I could hear their conversation, I murmured, “Do the minimal of all our base products, but I’m hoping there’ll be a clear winner by which of these run out of stock first.”
“You sure that’s wise?” Finn asked, moving into the kitchen, his lips firmed with his displeasure. At, I assumed, the fact I hadn’t gone to bed yet.
“Why not? I’d like to know what customers want. Most of the influx are new so they’re not used to the staple items anyway, and then the old clients can buy their favorites.”
He considered that before he nodded. “You’re right.”
“Funny, isn’t it?” I rasped. “Me, knowing my own business.”
Finn conceded that with a grimace. “Sorry.”
Mutinously, I raised my chin even as I started unfolding the packing crates so Billy could stack the Tupperware in them. We had these crates for this explicit purpose.
While my set up wasn’t industrial in size, it was in layout. I had a double oven as well, commercial grade, and it was surprising how much I could output in a short space of time.
“How are the new guys working out?” I asked Billy. Louise said they were slackers, but I liked to get Billy’s take on things too because she was more front of house and he worked in the bakery itself.
“They’re great. One of them made some homemade puff pastry the other day. It was delicious.”
Before I could answer, Louise wandered in a second later, and annoyed, I asked, “Where’ve you been?”
“I had to use the bathroom,” she said with surprise.
I frowned but shook it off as being irrational, and in silence, we packed up the boxes and the crates.
Finn wouldn’t let me carry anything, so he and Billy took everything to the elevator.
“Thanks for coming, Billy,” I told him once we were finished. “Are you going to be able to manage getting all this into the truck?” We had one for deliveries.
“Yeah, sure. It’ll only take a few minutes. We’re parked right outside.”
Finn muttered disgruntledly, “Let me grab my coat and I’ll help.”
Louise grabbed his arm and said, “That’s so kind of you, Finn.”
“We can manage,” Billy countered, shooting her a frown.
“You know I hurt my wrist yesterday,” Louise complained.
“Did you file a claim for it?” I questioned, my voice sharp.
“It wasn’t at work,” Louise said, hesitating long enough that I knew she was lying and that she hadn’t filed it.
Gritting my teeth, I watched as Finn retreated to the closet beside the door. He shrugged into a hoody, then an outer coat, and shoved some sneakers onto his feet.
When Louise looked up at him like he was Chris Hemsworth, settling into the elevator at his side, too close for my liking, I pursed my lips and watched as the doors closed, leaving me behind.