Page 17 of When You're Broken
He managed a grin, looking down at her face.The water continued rushing, splashing around his hand.“Should be all right,” he said, flexing his fingers gingerly.“I think it’s just a mild burn.”
She reached for a clean tea towel, patted his hand dry, then stepped closer—just enough for him to see the concern in her dark eyes.“Try not to injure yourself for my sake, okay?”
He let out a short laugh.“Lately, seems like whenever I try to do something for us, there’s a calamity.”
She set the towel aside, and a brief hush fell.Both seemed aware of how her body brushed his side, the closeness unspoken but comforting.He gently rested his good hand against her waist.She tilted her head, meeting his gaze.The kitchen’s overhead light lent a softness to her features, the tension from the day’s events momentarily easing.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I think I’d trade a burn or two if it means you can have a decent meal tonight, away from all the stress.”
Amelia’s lips twitched upward.“That’s sweet, but I prefer to keep you in one piece.”Then, with a lingering look, she leaned in.Their foreheads nearly touched.He could feel her breath, and before either said more, she tilted her face up.He inclined his head, and their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss that steadily deepened, the day’s anxieties melting for a precious few seconds.
The scent of thyme and onions lingered in the background, and her sweater felt warm under his palm.When they parted, Amelia stepped back, cheeks flushed.“Thank you,” she whispered, though he wasn’t entirely sure for what—maybe for the attempt at normalcy, or for the affection that reminded them there was more to life than chasing criminals.
Finn swallowed, then forced a grin.“Let’s get back to dinner.My vegetables might be going from ‘perfectly sauteed’ to ‘charcoal briquettes’ if we don’t rescue them.”
Amelia chuckled, turning off the water.“All right, Chef Wright.Show me your magic.I’ll just stand back far enough that you don’t injure me, too.”
"Fair," he said with a sheepish laugh, returning to the stove top with more caution.He quickly rescued the pan from the heat, deciding it was best to serve what was left.The vegetables looked a bit more caramelized than planned but were hopefully edible.
They ended up plating a modest meal of sauteed peppers, onions, tomatoes, and some seasoned chicken slices, plus bread from a bakery in town.The entire arrangement felt more rustic than gourmet, but it was enough for a late dinner.They carried their plates to the small wooden table near the cottage’s front window.A single lamp glowed in the corner, illuminating them in a warm circle.Outside, the village’s hush gave them privacy.
“Bon appétit,” Finn said, seating himself across from Amelia.The table was cozy, just enough space for their plates, water glasses, and a small dish of butter.He tried to ignore the throbbing in his palm.
Amelia took a tentative bite, nodding with approval.“It’s actually good,” she said, relief coloring her tone.“Despite your attempts at self-immolation.”
Finn let out a short laugh, sampling the chicken.He was pleasantly surprised at how the thyme and onions worked together.“I might blow things up in the process, but I get there in the end.I think clumsiness runs in the family.”
Between bites, he tried to maintain a light tone.“Once, I had a cousin—Chase was his name—who thought he could dip his hand in lighter fluid, light it up, and not get hurt if he just flung it off quick enough,” he recounted.“He was determined to prove it to all of us at this beach bonfire.So, what does he do?He soaks his hand in fluid, flicks a match, and—poof—his entire hand bursts into flame.”
Amelia’s eyes went wide, half-laughing.“Oh God, was he okay?”
Finn smirked."Burned his palm something fierce.The doctor said it was a second-degree burn.My dad joked that he should've been diagnosed with moronitis."
Amelia burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.“That’s… that’s insane.But I also can’t help laughing about it.”
He shrugged, grin lingering.“We were a rowdy bunch in those days.He recovered fine, though he carries a scar that spells out ‘bad idea’ every time he flexes.”Another chuckle passed.He took another forkful of chicken, savoring the comfortable moment.
Amelia shook her head in amusement, then let it dissolve into a quieter smile.She toyed with a piece of bread on her plate.“I wish I had more stories like that from my family.Or of the brother I never knew,” she said softly.“I keep thinking how I missed so much, never being in touch with him.”
Finn stilled.“I’m sorry if bringing up my cousin made you—”
She waved him off.“No, it’s all right.I need to talk about it more, not less.”She sighed, gaze drifting to the flicker of the lamp.“I can’t understand why Brendan never tried contacting me if he kept that old photo of the two of us as toddlers.He obviously cared.So why hide from me?”
Finn’s chest tensed with empathy.He set down his fork.“Maybe it was too painful for him to face the fact that your parents—your biological parents—had both of you, but let him go to another family while you were eventually allowed to return to your biological family once they felt they could cope.Or maybe he thought you had the better life, that seeing him might dredge up something you didn’t want to remember.Could be a thousand reasons.”
Amelia's shoulders slumped."I guess.I just… It's like the memories are just out of reach.It's like everything from that time is locked behind a thick door.All I feel is an emotional echo—sadness or emptiness.Maybe that was him, missing from my life."She looked at Finn, eyes shimmering with longing."I was so young, so maybe my brain just buried it.Or maybe I forced myself to forget.Now that I realize I had a brother, it's like there's a hole in my chest.It's like there's been something missing all along, and only now do I feel it."
Finn reached out, resting a gentle hand over hers.“I’m sure those memories will come in time.Maybe these feelings have come first.Like loving someone you can’t remember...”
"It's an ache, Finn," she said."A real painful feeling inside of me.I feel like I should have known he existed.I feel like I should have gone out and looked for him.Maybe then I could have kept him safe.Now, all I can think about is finding him so I can get to know him.So I can… Heal a part of me I never knew was broken… I… I have to find him… I just want to give him a hug."
“I know… But this is all a lot to process while we’re also chasing Wendell Reed.I worry you’re dealing with too much.”
She stiffened slightly, pulling her hand away.“I know.But this is my brother’s life on the line, and I can’t walk away.”Her tone carried an edge of warning, as if she anticipated an argument.
Finn inhaled, controlling the swirl in his gut.“Look, the last thing I want is to turn against you.I promised I’d be here.But I have to tell you what I see: you’re exhausted, you’re carrying deep emotional baggage, and Wendell’s pushing your buttons.I’m worried.”
A flicker of hurt passed across her face.“You don’t have to worry about me, Finn.”
