He sits up straighter. “I would never break your trust. I didn’t reveal what you told me. Instead I talked generally about regrets. About the things we say, and the things we don’t say. I couldn’t leave it untouched.”
I breathe deep in relief. “I talked to him, Finn. Last night.” I don’t reveal my father’s confidences either. Those aren’t mine to share. But I desperately want him to know that he doesn’t have to protect me here. “And…I think we’re going to be okay. I forgive him, and he wanted to be forgiven.”
Finn’s smile is soft and sad. “Maybe it was supposed to work out this way.”
Instantly, I know what he means. “You give him up? I get him back?”
Finn swallows roughly, while nodding. “Yes. Maybe this was always supposed to be our path. Our needs changed. I need you more than I need him. And you needed him back on your side.”
There’s a certain poetry to that. To the choices we’re both making. Neither one of us was ready to make this choice before Paris. Or even after Paris. But maybe the missing over these last few weeks was enough. For me though, it was facing the past so I could move into a future I choose.
“I did need him back,” I admit.
Will my father stay on my side after he learns I’m with Finn? I think so. I trust that my father’s love for me runs deep. We’ll weather it. We’ve survived something infinitely harder.
“What will we tell him? And how?” I ask, wanting to organize this talk like it’s a location shoot I’m coordinating.
Finn wraps an arm around me. “I’ll do whatever you need. You come first. Do you want me to tell him? Do you want to? Do you want to do it together?”
Those are good questions. “I think the answer is together.”
“Name the time,” he says, but then hedges. “But can we do it after we get Tiramisu?”
I blink, amused. “Is that the name of your dog?”
“And my favorite dessert,” he says, like he’s pleased with his dog-naming abilities.
I seriously fell in love with the best man. “Yes, we can do it after.”
“Oh, and Jules, I want you to come with us when we adopt him or her tomorrow.”
I say yes to that too.
A little later, Finn gets under the covers with me. Falling asleep with him feels peaceful. Waking up feels right.
We leave for breakfast, holding hands. When we hit the streets of Chelsea, all those happy, buzzy feelings vanish at the sight of my father walking toward us.
35
GOODBYE AND ALWAYS
Finn
I don’t drop her hand. I hold it tighter, giving her a subtle squeeze for strength, in case she needs it. No matter how tough Jules is becoming, it’s not easy facing someone you love when that person is staring at you like you no longer make sense.
Tate slows his pace as he comes closer. His normal, confident stride turns to slow-mo as he shifts his gaze from her to me, then back again. Math problems flash in his eyes, but without a solution.
“You’ve got this, Jules. We’ve got this,” I say in a whisper.
She gives a small nod, then when we’re a few feet from Tate, we stop. He stops.
I’m not sure why he’s here now. But the why hardly matters. He is and we need to deal with it.
The three of us stand in front of a brick apartment building in Chelsea on a Saturday morning, as weekenders hit the sidewalk, pushing strollers, rushing to cafés, heading to the gym. Heat rises from the concrete as summer bears down on the city.
“Hi, Dad,” Jules says. Her voice wavers, but she lifts her chin like a warrior.
“Tate,” I say. It’s crisp, firm.
He squints. “What’s going on?”
Said not as a friend, not as a father, but as counsel in the courtroom hit with a surprise witness.
“Dad, I’m seeing Finn. I’m in love with Finn. We’re together,” Jules says, the witness on the stand taking the oath and sticking to the truth.
“Yes, we are. I love your daughter very much,” I say, meeting his gaze.
But when he meets mine it’s with a sneer, then a dismissive glare. He turns back to Jules. “W-when? How?”
Tate is no longer in a courtroom. He’s the father, shocked by his daughter’s choices.
I don’t say a word. She doesn’t either. He won’t be privy to how we met after dark.
“That…dinner?” Tate asks, like he’s cycling back in time to the night I met his daughter when I was with Marilyn still. But he blinks that away. “Oh. Paris?”
Sure. That’s close enough. “Yes,” I say, since Jules doesn’t need to lie to him.
I can take that one on.
Tate huffs out a breath. “When I said I hoped you’d learn from Finn that wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind,” he says to her dryly.
She doesn’t take his sarcastic bait, even though I suspect it’s coming from his own shock.
“I’m happy,” she says, standing her ground. “You don’t have to be happy for me, but I was going to tell you today. And this is what I want. Finn is who I want.”
With a curl in his lips that I swear he tries to erase, he jerks his gaze away, drags a hand down his face, then turns back to us. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he says tightly.
It’s my turn to step in now. I squeeze her hand tighter. “I love Jules, and I’ll take care of her. I’ll look out for her. I’ll be there for her.”
His eyes are bullets. “We won’t be running together anymore.”
I knew that, but I respect that he needs to say it. “I understand,” I say.
Tate blows out a long, disappointed breath. But I’m pretty sure the disappointment is for me, not her.
Jules lets go of my hand, gesturing to the end of the block. “I’ll meet you at the café. Okay?”
I don’t want to leave her, but I understand what she needs.
“I’ll be there.” I don’t drop a kiss to her cheek. There’s a time and place for that, and right now it’d be rubbing it in Tate’s face.
Before I can go though, Tate clears his throat. “Finn, she’s my daughter.” His voice is ice and fire. “What the fuck?”
I can’t fault him for his reaction. I can only own my choice. “I get that you’re cutting me out of your life. Just know that I’ll treat her right. That’s a promise. For always.”
Then I walk away from the friendship. But he catches up with me seconds later.
His jaw is so tight it looks like he’s grinding his teeth, but then he grits out words. “If you hurt her—”
“I won’t.”
He seethes. “I mean it.”
I don’t break eye contact. “So do I.”
Then I leave, going to the café to wait for my woman.
36
THIS THING
Jules
Sometimes it’s easier to deal with logistics. “So, what brings you over here on a Saturday morning?”