A Broken Us (London Lover Series Book 1) (20 page)

Leslie, Frank, Mitch, and Julie all keep me
company for the rest of the day, stuffing me full of comfort food and liquor.
After a lot of convincing, they let me go to bed early because I told them the
crying has taken a lot out of me.

In reality, I just feel like crying again and
don’t want them to witness it.
 

The next morning is worse because I wake up and
feel like it all could have been a bad dream. I feel like I could look up and
see Brody coming back in from the bathroom. But I know it’s not true.

I pull up his contact and send him a text.

Finley:
I just need to know if you’re home or if you’re okay?

After what feels like an eternity, I hear my
phone beep and my heart races as I rush over to it.

Brody:
Home.

My heart aches at the one word reply. I can’t
help myself, so I send one more text.

Finley:
I miss you.

I know he won’t reply. He hasn’t replied to my
hundreds of other texts and voicemails. I have work to do today anyway, so for
at least a little while I have to attempt to be functional.

After a steaming hot shower, that I cried most
of the way through because all it did was make me think of Brody, I get myself
dressed in a hoodie and jeans. I have a conference call with Val today and I
need to get my shit together.

“Finley?” I hear Leslie’s voice call through my
door.

“Come in,” I reply.

She walks in wearing her flannel pajamas. She’s
holding two coffee mugs. I half smile at her and sit crisscross on the
mattress. She hands me my black coffee and tucks in right beside me, letting
her knees touch my leg. I know she needs the contact with me right now to help
her gauge how I’m doing.

“I’m okay,
Lez
,” I
say, blowing into my cup.

“That was so scary, Finley,” she says, with a
serious face.

“I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know,” I say,
looking down sadly.

“I hated feeling like,” she pauses, “feeling
like I wouldn’t be able to get through to you.”

“I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry for a
lot of things,” I say.

“Don’t be sorry, just give me the cracks,
babe.”

“
Ahhh
, the cracks.
The cracks,” I harrumph, into my mug.

She sits, silently, waiting for me to continue.

“I messed up, Les. I messed up so, so bad.
Brody didn’t care whether or not I could have a baby, he just cared that I
thought so little of him. He couldn’t believe I thought he’d leave me over it.”

“Why
did
you think that, Fin?” she says, rolling from her knees onto her hip.

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that
out.” I look up at her feeling a sting in my eyes, “I’m fucked up in the head,
I guess!” I say, smiling, tears now running down my face.

Leslie sets her mug down and lays her head on
my lap, her auburn hair splayed out on my jeans.

“We’re all fucked up, Finley. Frank hasn’t had
a functional relationship with anything but magazine porn since I moved out
here. Mitch and Julie don’t speak to any of their family anymore…and I’m pretty
sure Mitch has a drinking problem. I have dance-
gasms
on stranger’s legs at clubs.”

I smile sadly at her.

“You and Brody are the closest we’ve seen to
anyone having their shit together. This fight you two had didn’t alter our
opinions of that. You guys are amazing. We all have our shit. You just have to
stand tall and figure it out eventually I guess,” she finishes.

“I don’t know, Leslie. I was literally on my
knees, and he looked at me with so much hatred. So much anger. So much…hurt,” I
swallow hard.

“You came out here for a reason, Finley. It
wasn’t random. This…” she says, sitting up and looking me in the eyes,
gesturing back and forth between our chests, “was no mistake, hon. I adore you.
I always have. Frank even adores you. I’ve never seen him warm to someone like
he warmed to you. That can’t be a mistake.”

I sigh heavily, swiping at the tears escaping
my eyes.

“You just need to figure your shit out before
you can even begin to take Brody’s hurt away,” she says, patting my leg.

I nod, soaking in her words. “I just know I
don’t want to love anyone else, Leslie.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she smiles, and I laugh,
with more tears dropping onto my lap.

“I fucking love you,
Lez
,”
I say, seriously.

“I fucking love you, Fin,” she replies, and
hugs me tightly.

When she leaves I hear a text notification on
my phone and my heart leaps with hope that Brody may have replied.

Cadence:
CALL ME!

I sigh and press
Send
on her contact.

Without even saying hello, Cadence starts in on
me, “George got a text from Mark that he just picked up Brody from the airport!
Early!” she barks into the phone.

“Cadence, I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”

“I didn’t tell him where you were for you to
break his freaking heart, Finley!” she chastises me.

“I didn’t break his heart!” I explain.

“Then why is he home already, Fin? He was
barely there. He probably spent more time on the damn plane than he did in
London. What’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, Cade. I…” I pause. “I
just told him the truth.”

“That dickhead actually left you because you
told him you can never get pregnant?” she shouts, into the phone.

“No,” I say, defeated. “It’s not like that.”

“Then explain please, because I am way too
pregnant to have my emotions toyed with like this, Finley.”

“I told him the truth, that I can’t have a baby
and that the reason I left him was because I didn’t want him to leave me,” I
say in one breath.

“Oh God, Finley,” she says.

“What?” I cry, “It’s the truth, Cadence!”

“Yeah, but jeez…you didn’t need to say it like
that, did you?” she says, with her typical big-sister tone.

“It needed to be said, regardless. I’ve been
living with this freaking poison in my body and I had to get it out. I had to
tell him,” I reply.

“How did he take it?” she asks.

I laugh, haughtily, “Um, not well.”

“Gosh, Finley. I’m so sorry,” she says, in a
kinder tone now.

“It’s the shit-hand I’m dealt. I
gotta
deal with it, I guess.”

“It is a shit hand. It’s going to work out,
though. I know it,” she says, confidently.

“I don’t think so, Cadence,” I reply. “You
didn’t see his face.”

She doesn’t say anything back.

“How are my M&Ms?” I ask, desperate to talk
about something else for a while. I fondly refer to my three nieces as M&Ms
because all their names start with the letter M, and it’s so much easier than
spouting out all three names.

“The girls are good. They miss their Auntie.
We’re still
Skyping
tonight though, right?” she asks.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss my weekly date
night with my nieces. How are you feeling?”

“Good! Getting achier the bigger I get, of
course, but my due date is coming up so I know that’s to be expected.”

“Well, I’m saving up all my freelance money
from Val for a trip home to meet my first nephew. And Frank doesn’t seem to
want to take any rent from me, so I think I should be able to swing it.”

“Good, good,” she replies. “So, what is your
plan with London and work and everything?”

“I don’t completely know, I guess. But I’m
pretty sure if I wanted a job with
Faith’s
Miracle Jewelry
, I’d have it. The owners kind of love me. And I kind of
love them.” I smile, picturing them at their dining room table.

“Don’t talk about moving out there forever.
I’ll start bawling. I’m way too hormonal to think about that,” she says.

I laugh, “Okay, well, I got Val calling me
soon, so I better let you go.”

“’Kay. I love you, Finley,” she says, and I
hear her voice crack on the other line.

“I love you, too, Cadence. But hey, are you
okay?” I ask.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just miss my baby sister, I
guess. Hormones, remember?” she says.

I laugh and we hang up and I ache for the
comfort of my sister’s house, hugs, and conversation. Cadence is always tough
on me, but I wouldn’t want her any other way.

My conference call with Val goes really well.
She is extremely pleased with my assessment of
Faith’s Miracle Jewelry
and wants me to head back out to the
country to go over our offer with them. This is more of a sales job and I’m
nervous about having to discuss the specifics of money with this family that is
so incredibly kind. But Val assures me that they love me, and if I’m just
myself, they’ll gladly sign on the dotted line.

It’s been four days since Brody left and I’m
still no closer to having my issues figured out. The thing that perplexes me
the most is why I thought so little of him. Why did I think he wouldn’t want me
without a child?

I stare at myself in the mirror on the back of
the bathroom door. For today’s meeting, I selected my black pencil skirt with
ankle boots and an aqua chiffon blouse. I thought the color would make my face
look livelier than it feels. I think I thought wrong.

I clomp loudly down the stairs with my black
satchel over one shoulder, and swing open the door to a surprised Liam,
appearing to be mid-knock.

“Liam,” I say, shocked to see him here.

He looks past me, nervously, and says, “Hey
Finley, I’m just here because I forgot my DVDs the other day. I’m sorry…I’m not
trying to be weird, I didn’t even know if you’d be here. Frank said I could pop
by today.”

I shake my head, “No, no, it’s fine. It’s not
weird.”

He awkwardly stuffs his hands into his jean
pockets.

“Are you off today?” I ask, not knowing what
else to say.

“Yep, I had some stuff to take care of with my
parents, so I’m off the rest of the week actually.”

“Oh…” I nervously fidget with the strap of my
satchel.

I haven’t seen Liam since the night I told him
that Brody was it for me. Seeing him now doesn’t change that fact, but I feel a
huge sense of sadness thinking back to the euphoric feeling I had when Brody
showed up that night.

“How are you?” Liam asks, staring down at his
shoes.

“I’m fine…okay,” I reply, not wanting to lie to
him.

“Things okay?” he asks, looking up into my eyes
for the first time.

I shake my head and briefly roll my eyes.

“You don’t want to know,” my voice cracks.

He takes in my emotional expression and
hesitates a split second before stepping closer to the doorway.

“Do I need to fix something again?” he asks,
with a pure, wonderful sincerity in his eyes.

I slouch my shoulders and exhale a huge sigh.

“Oh, God, Liam. You’re too nice of a guy.”

“Finley,” he begins, looking straight into my
eyes. “I care about you. Just talk to me.”

“Brody’s gone,” I walk out the front door,
closing it behind me. I’m not going to lie to Liam. He doesn’t deserve to be
brushed aside like yesterday’s news.

“I finally told him all the crazy crap in my
head and he’s gone. He had a right to leave. I’m a horrible, awful person.” I
finish, locking the door. I shuffle over to the top step and sit down.

“I can’t cry about this anymore, I’ve cried too
much. I’ve screwed up too much. I just need to stop, already!” I finish,
dropping my head into my hands.

Liam sits down next to me, keeping a good foot
of space between us. I don’t feel a single ounce of sexual tension between us
anymore. It feels like a friend talking to a friend. Thank God for that because
I can’t handle much more right now.
 

“Does this have anything to do with that
bullocks comment you made to me at the tarts and vicars party, about you not
being worth it?” he says, turning slightly toward me.

I nod my head, unable to meet his eyes.

“My guess is Brody didn’t appreciate your
assessment of yourself.”

I nod my head again. “Or my assessment of him,”
I finish, looking over to the skate park.

“Yeah, us blokes are funny creatures like
that,” he says, and I turn to look at him. “We don’t appreciate being doubted
by the woman we love.”

I look deep into his warm brown eyes.

“I feel like it’s too late for me to fix it,
Liam,” I say, feeling my eyes prickle with tears.

“Good thing you’re talking with the King of
Fixing,” he says, smiling playfully at me.

“So, what do you suggest?” I ask, pinching my
eyebrows and praying for a miraculously easy answer to come out of Liam’s
mouth.

“Fix yourself before you try to fix your
relationship,” he finishes, with a simple shrug.

Well
shit. That’s absolutely no help.

As if reading my mind, Liam laughs, “Finley!”
he says, throwing his arm around my shoulder in a playful way. “You’ve got to
give yourself more credit. You can figure this one out…I’m sure of it.”

I smile for what feels like the first time in
days, and lean my head on Liam’s shoulder. He really is a fixer. Just feeling
his presence again, stirs something inside of me I thought was long gone.
Hope.