Page 25 of Jilted Jock
I raced across the room and squealed as I tore into the first box. Whoever taped it had done a good job and it took a lot of effort before I finally pulled the flaps back to display the contents.
“Gifts?” I asked dumbly, staring down at the white and cream paper with exquisite bows. “Oh my God, Finn. Are these…?”
“Wedding gifts?” He nodded.
I pulled the smallest present out and sat down on the floor with it. It was so sad, and I had no idea what to say except, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine.”
Finn had a way of masking his emotions and putting on a front. I’d seen him do it with Chance and I knew he was doing it now.
“No, it’s not fine. What she did was awful and wrong, and I think I hate her a little bit for it even though I don’t know her at all.”
One side of his mouth pulled up. He sat down on the floor next to me. Long legs bent, he rested his elbows on his knees and motioned with his head. “Open it.”
“No. I can’t.”
“It’s either that or put them on the curb for trash pickup. I can’t donate them until I’ve taken them out of the wrapping.”
I gasped. The thought made me impossibly sadder somehow.
“You couldn’t return them?”
“The wedding planners said the people who wanted their gifts back took them before leaving that day. I guess the rest felt tacky about it.” He pointed to the beautifully wrapped gift in front of me. “You got me all curious about that one. Can’t stop now.”
I carefully slid my finger under the tape and my heart broke a little with that first give of the paper. The perfection had been marred and there was no fixing it. If Finn was upset about it, he didn’t show it.
My hands shook, but I trudged on methodically breaking the seal and finally uncovering…
“What is it?” I turned the gold, oddly shaped item. It was a rectangular shape, with a long opening on one side, two others were some sort of wavy design. It looked like a replica of an old instrument or maybe a part for a radiator.
“I think that’s a vase,” Finn supplied.
I placed it on the floor with the open side up trying to imagine flowers in it and couldn’t. “I don’t think so.”
“Check the tag.”
I lifted it, wondering what it was made of. It was so heavy. Solid gold, probably.
“Three hundred dollars for a tacky vase?” I didn’t catch my outburst in time. “Sorry, it’s just…” I searched for a word… any pleasant word to describe the hideous gold thing, only none came.
“It’s tacky as hell,” Finn said. “No need to sugarcoat it.” He smiled, but then it fell just as quickly. “Suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s junk now.”
He stood and went to the fridge, pulled out a water and stood with his hip against the counter as he took a long drink. My heart ached for him.
“You’re really going to open all of them?”
“If they’re as awful as that one, I don’t think I need to worry about getting lost in sentimentality.”
“But they’re your wedding presents.” I stood and walked toward him. “Doesn’t it make you sad or mad?” I balled my hands into fists. Finn’s gaze swept over me again, making me feel exposed and interesting… he looked at me like I was worth looking at.
“I like how riled up it makes you, but no.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t believe you.”
He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Alright, yeah, fine. It bloody sucks, but opening those presents is among the least awful parts of the whole thing so might as well be done with it. Then maybe I can finally put all of it behind me.”
I stood frozen. His words were less impactful than the way he looked right now – so beautifully broken.
