Page 94 of Rules in Love
“Ahh, if anyone was rubbing it out in the toilets at work, it was you. And they would be great together,” he said thoughtfully, “but Nate has a habit of being great together with a lot of different girls at the same time. He’s never been in a monogamous relationship that lasted more than three days, and Evie is innocent.” He paused, huffed, and grunted in disapproval as he scrubbed a particularly unbudging piece of cheese from a plate. Once satisfied with its removal, he continued. “She hasn’t been in a relationship for years. Iris and I have been her life. All she wants is marriage and a family, and I don’t think Nate would ever want that in the same way. I don’t want her to be hurt, and I could never forgive myself if Nate, my buddy, was the one to hurt her.”
“Look. Yes, she is your sister, and you want to look out for her, but she’s also a grown woman, and she has to be able to make her own decisions…and mistakes.”
“Shit. I just want to protect her.”
I slipped around his thick body. Inserting myself between the sink and his belly, I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine. “I know you do, and the love you have for your family and your need to look out for them is one of the things I love most about you. I can’t promise things will work out for them, because no one can promise such things. But there is one thing I can almost guarantee… Wherever you or Evie end up, if you’ll have me, I want to be there. That and the quality and quantity of your future rumpy-pumpy.”
Finn dipped his finger into the bubbles, bopped soap on my nose, and then brushed it off with a kiss.
“Since we’re talking openly,” I said, pulling away for a breath, “Jan mentioned something to me today.”
“Let’s not talk about Jan. Let’s talk about us.” Finn captured my face in his hands. “I do love you, Scarlett. I’m sorry.”
“Eww!”
“Puke! Told you your dad had the hots for my mum,” snipped Ben, sounding an awful lot like Teddy. I could feel the tension zapping between Finn and me, but for some reason, we remained pressed together, frozen solid, lip locked.
“Well, duh, Bunny,” Iris said, rolling her eyes and elbowing nonplussed-looking Ben in the side. “We knew that weeks ago.”
“Christ on a bike!” A delayed reaction kicked in, and I pushed Finn in the chest and sent him flying backward. “We knew? I mean, you knew?”
“I knew, our teachers at school knew, Dad knew…” Benjamin added.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, not remotely freaking out or breaking into an instant sweat. “What do you meanyourteachers knew?”
Ben sighed, looked at Iris like,Can you believe this idiot? then pointed to Finn. “Well, you were hugging and kissing my mum on the street, and our whole class walked past you to go to the museum, and you didn’t even sawed us.”
HOLY SHIT!
“Ben! You and Iris go to school together?” I spun to face Finn. “Finn, they go to school together.”
“I know. I heard. They went to a museum, too, apparently. Are we really shit parents or what?”
My nodding, glassy-eyed stare at Finn was broken by Iris waddling up beside me and tugging on my shirt, “I saw Daddy kiss a pictuwe of you on his phone. That’s when I knew. I saw boobies on his phone, too. Wewe they youws?”
“Christ.” Finn released the edge of the counter he was clinging to and did his best to keep his voice calm and steady. “Hi, Ben, or should I sayBunny?I’m Finn.” he said, walking to my side and rustling Ben’s hair.
“Nice to meet you, Finn. You’re really tall.”
“I am. And you’re very affectionate from what I hear.” He then straightened and leaned into my ear, “Now that I know Bunny isn’t a girl, I think I need to have a word with you about your son’s intentions. All this handholding and cheek kissing I’ve been hearing about is a matter of concern.”
“So, awe you my dad’s giwlfwiend, then, Bunny’s mum?”
“Ummm.” I looked at Finn and shrugged. “Ummm.”
In a move that both threw me for a loop and made me fall even harder, Finn got down on his knees, placed one hand on Iris’s shoulder, and did the same to Ben. “Would you mind if she was, Iris? You too, Ben. Would you mind if your mum and I were dating? ‘Cause I know you’re the man of the house, Ben, and we need to have your blessing.”
Ben held out his pudgy little hand and shook Finn’s. “I think it’s great! Mum smiles all the time now. I like it.” My heart exploded with joy, Finn’s eyes with tears, and all focus turned to Iris.At seven years old, her ability to hide her emotionswas far superior to her father’s, who looked like he was waiting for the apocalypse. I had no idea what she was going to say. And clearly, neither did he.
At first, she said nothing, just twisted her lips from side to side. But then she moved closer to me, stood on my toes, and pulled me by the hand down to her level so both Finn and I were on our knees. She then planted a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek and smiled. “Can I stay for a sweep ovew?”
Once we’d had our fill of grossing the kids out with kisses, we had as honest and frank a chat as you can with two seven-year-olds, one of whom sat upside down on their head for the majority of the time. It was likely easier to catch farts in a jar, so we gave up and went out for gelato instead.
The kids chose the flavors and then played in the park. Finn watched, laughed, and sexily licked his cone. I dropped mine down my shirt, and everyone rolled their eyes at me. And when Finn crossed the street and brought me another double scoop with sprinkles and nuts, he also got a wad of napkins to tuck into my shirt like a bib. I knew I needed it, so I didn’t make a fuss.
There was no denying that our talk continued to play on his mind, but it was playing on mine too. I was happy we’d talked and made up. But I had a sick feeling in my belly that wouldn’t shift. The longer I stewed on it, the more intense the feeling became. We sat there, side by side, watching the kids do what kids do while we did what we did. Kissed and talked and laughed. But that feeling, that dead weight, lingered.
I was angry. And not at Finn. Well, I was still angry at Finn, but notjustat Finn. For some time, all the arrows in my life had been pointing in one direction, but I was only then realizing where. I did things to make people happy. To make people like me. Maybe to help them to love me. Pleasing people relieved my anxiety. But by doing what other people wanted, what secured their happiness, I was often neglecting my own. I put up with things I shouldn’t put up with because I didn’t want to rock the boat. I stayed quiet when I should have spoken up—stayed small when I should have become big. And the more I did it, the more anxious I became and the more I needed to please. I’d set myself up to fail in a vicious circle of self-neglect.
