Page 110 of Rules in Love
“That’s what I said.”
“Good God, Finn. You’re so predictable. You’re so shit scared of how you feel, you’ve been looking for an excuse to get out of this for weeks. and now you think you found it. And it’s shit, by the way. I distracted you. Please.”
“Yes. Yes, you did,” I said, my voice rising with every word. “And I haven’t been trying to get out of anything. I’ve had nothing but you on the brain from the moment I saw you. I went against my better judgment, discarded my plan, and fell for you. I wanted to move in with you, for fuck’s sake. But it took your rejection and my aunt’s betrayal for me to see just how wrong it had all been. Maybe I should thank you for humiliating me in front of my understudy—or wait, am I his?”
“Daddy! Who awe you yelling at?” Iris’s sweet voice called out from upstairs, breaking the hostile stalemate.
“You blindsided me, Finn. I didn’t reject you.”
“Really? It sure felt that way. Now I think it’s time you left, Scarlett.”
“Is that it? No allowing me to explain or have a conversation about our future? No telling me what the hell you mean about Jocelyn? It’s just moving back to bloody Australia. We’re done?”
“Yep, it’s done. If you don’t mind, I need to look after my daughter. You should go back to Ben and do the same. I wish you well, Scarlett. You can see yourself out.” With my eyes trained on my feet, I walked away, my heart turning to stone as I realized that was the last time I would ever see Scarlett Grant.
Scarlett
That night, in my sleep, Finn came to me. As beautiful as ever, his head turned to mine. Our eyes locked and lingered in a heated gaze that scorched my soul from across the room, but it was fueled by a different fire and left a different kind of burn. Gone was the kindness, love, and passion. There was no trace of the lust I had taken almost sadistic pleasure in so many times. The soft, heart-shaped lips I dreamed of that I cherished and kissed a million times were stiff and thin and had turned to a cold, unfamiliar snarl. It was anger. Betrayal. The closest thing to hate I ever wanted to see.
I woke awash in tears and wished it were only a dream, not my mind torturing me with the day’s lowlight reel. Unable to get back to sleep, I slid on my robe, shoved my feet into my slippers, and padded my way to the kitchen. Tea was what I went for. Ice cream, cake, and vodka were what I ate. Now, I have shed a lot of tears in my life, but nothing compared to the torrential downpour that took place at that table. Then, after I dropped my spoon, I slipped in the funky monkey ice cream that I’d also dropped and fell, star-fished on the kitchen floor. Lying there with my heart racing, my lips tingling, my fingers numb, and my eyes fixating on the wasteland of coins, jellybeans, and hair ties beneath my oven, I lost the plot—if I ever owned one.
What have I done?
Why find your backbone now, you stupid, foolish cow?
Why is my floor so dusty?
I’m not sure how long I lay there or at what point I fell asleep, but a soft breeze sweeping across my skin forced my eyes open. That damn dust swept before me like tumbleweeds, and a pair of polished Louboutins appeared out of nowhere.
“Don’t get me wrong. You’re so gorgeous you can totally pull this look off, but Scarlett, my darling, why are you sleeping on the floor?”
“This is where I live now. Down amongst the dust bunnies and a disturbing amount of long red hairs. I’ve ruined everything. It’s where I belong.”
After a heaving sigh and a surprisingly loud knee crack for such a young man, Teddy sat beside me.
“Hello.” I sniffed.
“Hi, Lionel. Is it me you’re looking for down there?”
“You do know most twenty-five-year-olds wouldn’t get that reference, don’t you?”
“Yes, but you’re not most twenty-five-year-olds. You’re Scarlett. My best friend, the bravest woman I know, and my adoring student in all things eighties pop.”
“I do adore you. And your syncopated beats.”
“Excellent. Now, tell me, where is Ben? And again, why are we lying on the floor?”
Rolling to my side just enough to pull out the packet of gummy candy wedged between my boobs, I shoved a handful in my mouth and then replied, “Ben’s with Brett still. I’m lying here because I dropped my spoon and fell. Then I remembered that, in this very kitchen,I threw Brett out for asking me to ditch Finn, and laughing when Finn proposed while I rode his back—Finn’s back, not Brett’s. Oh, and I guess it was more of a proposition than a proposal. One I refused before asking Finn to leave, too. And then I remembered Finn disappeared, then reappeared, but will soon be disappearing again because I refused him.”
“Okay. I’m beginning to understand the floor dwelling.” Exhibiting why Theodore William Henry Digby III was the bestest best friend that ever existed, Teddy lay beside me, held my hand, and cried right along with me.
Still nursing his own tender heart, Teddy did his best to keep me, and possibly himself, busy. He got me off the floor, took me back to bed, and called in sick for work. The rest of the day was spent silently snuggled together in bed, weeping, rehashing, and sucking on a bottle of winelike babies at milk time.
“You know, some might say this is all your fault, Teddy. This is why I made my rules.”
As though he had been expecting a tirade, he answered emotionlessly. “Thought they were ideologies, not rules.”
“Whatever. If you hadn’t pushed me, I would never have gotten involved with him. And I wouldn’t have eaten my body weight in brownies, ice cream, and fudge.”
