Page 117 of Better Luck Next Time

Another shockwave roiled through him. Was she talking about his father?

“I had a life before your father, you know. But there are many different considerations a person should make when choosing their life partner, Finn. Love isn’t the only one that matters.”

Ah, that sounded more like them.

“How about this?” he said. “She makes me want to be a better person. And without her, I’m not sure I would have ever figured out what I want to do with my life. I only hope I’m lucky enough to spend it with her.”

She studied him for a moment before nodding. “Your mind is made up. I can’t say I’m happy that you’ve decided not to come home, but I won’t try to dissuade you. Come with me.”

She set down her drink, but he took his tumbler with him. He figured he might need a little liquid courage.

His mother scowled a little, but if she objected, she didn’t outright say so. She led him to her room—only hers, because his parents had kept separate rooms for as long as he could remember.

To his surprise, she led him to her jewelry box. He hadn’t even asked.

She lifted a hand. “Your father didn’t want me to wear my grandmother’s ring, but it’s a family heirloom, and when you’re ready, it’s yours to give to Adalia.” Her mouth twitched with repressed laughter. “It sounds like it’ll bequiteinteresting to see her match wits with your father.”

Wouldn’t it ever. Finn only hoped they both had a chance to see it.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Adalia’s alarm went off on her phone midway through her adjustment of a spring connecting two parts of her sculpture, and she felt the all-too-familiar grip of indecision. Should she go to meet Blue and Maisie for their girls’ night out or continue working?

There was no denying she was a woman obsessed. When she wasn’t at Buchanan Brewery or working on the art show, she was at the studio. It was as if her soul had been starving for art all these months, and now she was gorging herself.

Only that wasn’t the full story. Her art was helping her express and work through her emotions, just like it always had. It had brought her a rare sense of clarity about what she’d been through these last months. She’d gone through the loss of her mother, and while it had thrown her entire world off its axis, she’d reached a state of grace. She was grateful she’d had a caring, warm, loving mother, even if she’d lost her too soon. Her father wouldneverapprove of her—and while she’d always instinctively known it, now there was a peaceful acceptance. He was a bitter, narrow-minded man whose opinion no longer mattered to her. Her attitude would likely enrage him even more, which would have been the perfect revenge, but she found she no longer cared about that anymore either. Not with him anyway.

As for Alan, his betrayal still stung—deeply. The thought of toppling him from his self-appointed throne was tantalizing, but she just wasn’t sure she could endure seeking revenge through the legal system. So she would move on instead.

But the loss of Finn…

She wasn’t a fool. She knew the reason she stayed so late at the studio was to fill the time she wished she were spending with him. They’d only been together a short period of time, yet she’d never before known someone who got her so completely.

She regretted not being more open with him about Alan. If she’d allowed him to hold her hand through that ordeal, it would have made them stronger. She’d blown it.

She’d never been big into wishing for a wedding and marriage, but when she let herself daydream in her new game of ‘What if…’, when she looked into her perfect future, she saw herself with Finn.

But she reminded herself that her changed perspective didn’t resolve all their issues. There was still the matter of his need for change.

One day the previous week, Dottie and Adalia had gone out to lunch to work out some logistics for the show. The conversation had somehow landed on astrology, although they’d gotten there by such a meandering path, she couldn’t quite remember how.

“I’ve read my horoscope online from time to time,” Adalia had admitted with a laugh. “Who hasn’t?”

“Oh no, dear,” Dottie had said with a wave of her hand. “Everyone knows those things are nonsense. I’m talking aboutrealastrology. Have you had your star chart done?”

Adalia quirked a brow. “Are you really asking me that, Dottie?”

The older woman chuckled. “Fair enough, but you should consider it. I could set you up with my friend Ollie.”

“No, thank you,” Adalia said, holding up a hand. “Not after that disastrous visit to Lola.”

Dottie frowned. “That was serendipitous, dear, not a disaster.” She paused and leaned closer over the table. “Do you realize how rare it is for a fortune-teller to pull the same cards, in the same order, for two back-to-back clients?”

Adalia pushed her plate away, her stomach in knots. “Dottie…”

But Dottie forged on, not that she’d really expected her to give up. “You’re a Sagittarius, Adalia, a fire sign. Bold and brave and full of life.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” Adalia admitted, half under her breath.

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