Page 40 of Twist of Fate
“The flat comes fully furnished.” It doesn’t. I am totally grasping at straws here. “And besides, with the money you’ll be saving from the hotel, I think you’ll be able to afford a thing or two for a flat.” I pause before nudging her, a familiar gesture that makes my heart hurt the second I do it. “Stop making excuses.”
“Can I come see it before I decide?”
I grin, far too pleased with myself. “How does Sunday sound?”
ELEVEN
Aisling
PRESENT
Surprisingly, when Drunk Me chose to apply for a random job in the middle of the night, there were a shit ton of things she didn’t consider when it came to moving to a foreign country.
Shocking, I know.
After I sobered up, I quickly realized that moving to Ireland was going to be a huge undertaking and that I only had weeks to tackle it. At twenty-five, I had lived in my fair share of apartments, but moving across town was a hell of a lot different than moving across an ocean. Luckily, I had people like Nora at O’Connell to help with some of it. She walked me through all the paperwork, gave me advice on housing, and even helped me find private insurance.
Yeah, insurance. I hadn’t even thought about that. Considering I’d spent the better part of a year thinking about nothing but insurance and medical shit, it just goes to show you how far I’d shoved down that particular part of my life.
And now I am suffering the consequences.
I wince as I brace an arm on either side of the tub and try to push myself up. It’s a sobering moment because, a week ago, I could do this with hardly any effort. Now every damn joint in my body aches.
Thanks, stress.
The Epsom salt seems to have taken the edge off, but I still eye the pill bottle on the counter, wondering if I’ll have to resort to a pain pill next. Although they’re not the habit-forming kind, they still make me feel drowsy, so I avoid taking them. I’m already tired enough, thank you.
I step out of the bathroom and walk toward the bed, where I’ve set out a pair of jeans and a chunky sweater. It’s embarrassing to admit how long it took me to choose those two items of clothing.
But I can’t help it.
Finn makes me nervous. He always has.
Knowing that I’ll be seeing him today, outside of work, has my heart racing. Logically, I understand he’s just doing me a favor by offering this apartment, and this meet-up is nothing more than that. Emotionally, I can’t help but think of all the times our lives have intersected. That has to mean something, right? It can’t just be a coincidence.
But then I think back to the moment I stepped out of that cab Friday night. It was easy to slip back into our friendly banter. Almost effortless. It had always been that way with Finn. That’s one of the many reasons I fell for him. As much as I tried to ignore him in those early days of the tour, it was hopeless. We were drawn together.
As we sat in the back of that cab, I couldn’t shake the dark directions my thoughts took. Why did he do it? Why had he promised one thing and done another? So, when the cab pulled up to the curb, I realized my lighthearted mood had vanished, and instead, I was just flat-out mad. I got out and turned around. He smiled, ready to say goodbye, but I cut him off and said, “On Sunday, I don’t know where to go. I don’t have your address.”
“I can give it to you.”
I knew he would have to, so I asked. “Can you text it to me? Youdostill have my number, right?” The challenging tone was clear in my voice.
“I deleted it,”he’d answered with a hint of remorse. He could barely look me in the eyes.
He deleted it.
I had my answer.
It didn’t matter if the universe kept throwing us together.
We weren’t meant to be.
He’d made that abundantly clear.
* * *
Finn
