Page 42 of We Finished Here

I just wish all this was happening after I’ve finished chasing the Stanley Cup. I need a very focused mind and heart to help get the team to victory. Any distraction right now wouldn’t be good for my psyche if it ended in distress, but maybe that’s just an excuse to avoid having a sit-down with a man I haven’t talked to properly in so long.

Why the fuck is all of this coming about now?

Life has been tougher than what I’m currently going through now anyway, in fact, some would say I have it pretty sweet right now.

And I do.

I know it.

And it is sweet… until it isn’t.

CHAPTER11

Emmerson

I walk over to Gillian’s place at 10, taking some of mom’s homemade banana bread with me. I’m extremely nervous, to say the least. But I’m a grown adult and I can’t avoid her forever, or be a bitch about everything that she did to sway me to leave Taylor. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

I was young and impressionable back then, and I let everyone’s opinions totally drown my own feelings.Still, I blame myself too. I could have said no to them.

It’s a really strange thing walking up to her porch. It looks a little different now since she had the whole thing painted and the flooring replaced. It brings back so many memories.

The number of times I walked up to their door and pressed the bell… the times I came over to study and watch TV with Taylor, so much time was spent here.

The night I lost my virginity on his couch….

A lot of firsts are associated with this house, so it’s a struggle to not let it all come rushing toward me in an instant, bowling me over before I even get inside.

I have to maintain some poise here, and I definitely can’t show his mom that this is affecting me.

Just a quick hello, possibly some tea and cake, then I’ll leave and spend some time with my parents before I get ready for dinner tonight with Taylor. I’m still in a bit of a daze over that whole concept.

I ring the doorbell and wait for Gillian.

When she answers, she looks a little worse for wear than she did the other day. She looks distressed.

“Gillian, are you okay?” I ask, suddenly concerned as she opens the door back and gives me a smile that isn’t close to being one of happiness. Something pulls again in my gut. Something’s not right.

“I’m fine, just allergies.” She shakes her head. “Come in, honey. I see you brought some banana bread.” It’s almost like she’s trying to cheer herself up for me.

“Mom’s been baking,” I say, as I step inside their foyer onto the hardwood floor. “Her banana loaf special.”

“Wonderful.” She closes the door and ushers me down the hallway, past her antique furniture that I remember all too well, including the grandfather clock, into the kitchen. She’s had a few walls knocked out since I was here last, so it’s all a lot more open now with exposed beams overhead. It looks so spacious.

“Wow,” I say to her. “The house looks great.”

Her whole kitchen is white and farmhouse style. It’s beautiful.

“I couldn’t bear to leave this place,” she says, shaking her head. “So, I said to Taylor, if you really want to treat me to a new house… I’ll just renovate the one I’ve got.”

I laugh. That’s such a sweet thing for him to do. “You’ve done an amazing job.”

“One of the perks of having a son who won’t take no for an answer.”

“I heard you take a vacation over in the Caribbean every year?”

She walks to the sink to fill the kettle and clicks it on to boil. “It’s true, another perk from my son.” She laughs. “I have a little place over there, and Taylor uses it too. Sometimes you just need a little sunshine. I’m sure you’re used to that by now down Florida way.”

She turns and leans on the sparkly white quartz countertop, and urges me to take a seat at the breakfast bar. I slide onto a stool and place the banana bread down on the huge island bench.

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