Page 132 of My Merry Mistake
“If you did decide to forgive her, maybe some of that anger would go away.”
If I decide. Like it’s a switch I can flip.
Should it be that easy? Should it be a simple decision that happens overnight?
I don’t know. And I can’t think about it now. I have a trip to pack for. And even though it’s not perfect timing, I’m glad to be going out of town because distraction is good right now.
But the next day, as I walk out to the chartered jet, I slip my hand into the pocket of my coat and feel the balled-up letters—an unwelcome memory that none of this is going away.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Raya
I’ve gotten more comfortable sleeping in.
So much so that it’s probably going to be hard to return to my normal schedule. But I think the extra hours of sleep are helping me feel stronger. I’m a little less rundown than I was even two days ago.
Despite what everyone thinks, Ihavegotten on board with slowing down.
Sort of.
Fine. It’s a process. But I’m trying.
It’s been days since I told Finn the truth about Justin. The whole truth—from the second I got the idea to the second he walked out the door.
And Finn didn’t laugh. At first, he didn’t respond. Just sort of looked at me, almost like he was calculating something—which was weird. I couldn’t read him, but I wondered if I’d shared more than I should’ve.
I changed the subject, desperate to focus on anything other than my utter humiliation, and Finn went right along with it. If he thought I was a complete moron for concocting this plan in the first place, he didn’t let on. He was back to his easygoing self,and while I haven’t seen him since, he’s been actively texting me nonsense while he’s on the road, which has been kind of nice.
Last night, I went over to my parents’ house and watched the game with my family. Hockey Finn is different from the real-life teddy bear I’ve gotten to know. He’s focused and fierce and . . . hot.
He’s hot.
It’s very distracting.
Now, it’s Friday, a day with no plans, so I treat myself to a slow morning. I stay in my pajamas. I drink my coffee slowly. I read a chapter of a crime novel I started two years ago and never found time to finish. And I purpose to savor every second of it.
A little before noon, there’s a knock on my door, and I open it to find Finn, arms loaded with shopping bags. He takes one look at me and says, “You look cute.”
I absently touch the messy bun on top of my head, wondering why I don’t feel more put off by his impromptu visit. Normally, I don’t answer the door unless I’m presentable, which I am definitely not. For some reason, I don’t really care if Finn sees that I’m a mess.
More than anyone, he already knows.
I frown, but I’m smiling on the inside, still not quite able to wear all my emotions on my face. “What are you doing here?”
“You have a naked tree.” He holds his arms up. “I’m here to fix that.” Then, after a beat he says, “Do you care if I come in?”
The butterflies in my stomach are doing gymnastics, but I move aside and let him in, closing the door behind him. “You’re wearing a coat.”
He groans. “I didn’t want you to yell at me again.”
I giggle to myself because, for no reason at all, I find this amusing.
“Okay, anything you hate, I’ll take back,” he says, excited. “But I brought options.”
He starts pulling all kinds of things from the bags—tinsel and ornaments and bows and an angel for the top of the tree. “Oh, and this one is special because it reminded me of you—” He hands me a small box.
I turn it over and find a Scrooge McDuck ornament. I laugh. “I’m highly offended.”
