I exited the coffee shop at the end of my shift with a sigh. That job is definitely not for the faint hearted. Whoever said baristas have it easy was high off their face.
The plus side was I did in fact get my free coffee. I happily sipped on the cup of goodness as I walked down the block, pleased with everything for once. That shitty feeling of hope was back and I hated how much it made me doubt everything. At the same time, I felt relieved to have a job and not end up homeless, out on my ass.
Three blocks down and I had just managed to give myself a pep talk enough to convince myself to call Lily when I got home for celebratory drinks when I ran into Finn in the street.
“Harlow!” he said, a look of shock and relief on his face, “how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I answered, sipping my cup.
Finn’s mouth tightened and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as he tried to discreetly give me a look over.
“For God’s sake, Finn. Give it a rest.”
“What?”
I took a deep breath before answering. “If you mention my weight one more time, I’m going to ram this coffee up your ass. And then I’ll be mad because I’ll have no coffee.”
He blinked in reply, looking cautiously at the cup before deciding that my 5′7″ frame was not that scary.
“You’re still losing weight. It’s too quick.”
“Finn,” I said through clenched teeth, “it is never your place or anyone’s to comment on my weight. Or any girl’s weight. Back off.”
People threw me dirty looks and I shuffled to the side so they wouldn’t have to walk around me. Finn followed suit, leaning against the building wall.
“I’m a PT, Har. Commenting on people’s weight is literally my job.”
“Here’s the difference, Finn. I’m not paying you or asking for your opinion.”
Finn’s eyes flashed and I braced myself.
“What the fuck? Are we seriously doing this again, Harlow? Stop being a bitch.”
My eyes darted around, conscious that people were hovering and watching as they passed.
“I don’t owe you shit, Finn. Stop trying to fucking save me or fight for my honor, or whatever hero bullshit complex you have.”
Anger and hurt crossed his face and he stepped forward, closing the gap so he could lower his voice.
“I’m trying to help you.”
I laughed, rolling my eyes at his words. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and annoyance.
“I don’t want your help. You, and Dex... and whoever else wants to force themselves into my life with their drama, can fuck right off. I’m done with your bullshit. I’m done. You left me once and I’m not putting myself through it again when I just know you will leave. You all do.”
Finn’s expression fell, pain and agony ripping across his face. “I left to watch my dad die. And he did, Harlow. While I was holding his hand. I saw him take his last breath. If you think I was going to choose you over my dad, there’s something wrong with you. I had no choice. None. Don’t you dare make it out like I left easily.”
I should have stopped there. And I knew it.
That little voice in my mind – the one that tells you what’s rational... what’s right... it was begging me to stop the words from spewing out of my mouth. Telling me there’s consequences and that I’d regret it. But still...
“I don’t give a fuck, Finn. Just leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”
His mouth popped open, shock on his face. And before he could hide it, I saw the hurt in his eyes. Finn swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with emotion before finally, he stepped back.
Finn raised his chin slowly to look me dead in the eye.
“Go fuck yourself, Harlow.”
He trudged past me, narrowly missing my shoulder as he stalked off. And immediately my heart broke with regret.
“What the fuck is wrong with you...?” I murmured to myself, forcing my legs to continue to walk as I headed back to the apartment.
By the time I reached the apartment door, I had decided I was going to find Finn’s number so I could call him and apologize. Guilt was stabbing me in the chest and I knew I had gone too far. The pain and stress of everything lately was wearing me down.
I was hungry, sick and tired. I was sick of fighting. It shouldn’t have had to be this hard.
As I pushed the front door open, I paused as I came face to face with Dex in the living room. Sitting on the couch.
That couch.
My eyes found the floor as I quickly discarded my shoes and dumped my keys in the bowl. Nerves tugged at me as I replayed Dex’s words from his fight with Finn... the hurt breaking down my already cracked interior. But Finn’s name flashed in my mind as I remembered the fight, and realized Dex probably had his number.
“I need Finn’s number.”
Bloody good job, Harlow. Skip all the pleasantries and just get straight to the point. This should go down just about as well as a lead balloon.
Dex looked up, his face impassive as he took in my request.
“You want Finn’s phone number?” he repeated, perplexed.
I clenched my teeth, trying to be as pleasant as possible. “Yes.”
He raised an eyebrow at me before turning back to the phone in his hand.