A young woman struggles in the modern world when she has to finish university, handle life and take care of her six-year-old son. It certainly doesn't help her situation when she's got things barely figured out. Madilyn Adair is known for being driv...
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This was one crazy chapter to write. Before you read I'm going to say two words: Finn. Jackson.
This probably doesn't make much sense now but it will as you read! Happy reading lovelies :)
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Friday came sooner than I expected and maybe that was due to the fact that Bruce was in my life now. Usually I looked forward to the weekend which I freed up (I did most of my assignments that were due on Monday or Tuesday during the weekday and mostly on Friday since I kept everything till last minute—don't ask why because I certainly didn't know but maybe you can question that procrastination bone in my body that's strong as a weight lifter). However, I was not looking forward to this weekend.
Main reason: Finn Jackson was here for the weekend.
Not-so-main reason: I'd have time to spare and should be studying which I certainly didn't want to do, especially since the weekends was when Riley and I spent time together.
Friday morning, after Finn came over and picked Riley up after promising me that he'd take our son out for breakfast before dropping him off at school, I went to the Golden Quaff, agitated, easily ticked off and grumpy. It seemed like yet another Monday to me except that it wasn't Monday. Friday was the start of the weekend and it was starting horribly.
I went into the café, ordered my coffee and all the while complained about the service when it literally took the barista less than three minutes to make my coffee and hand it over to me. Friday passed by in a slow and agonising pace. Finn came home with Riley at half past seven and I didn't know why but I completely blew it.
"You were supposed to bring him home at seven, Finn Jackson," I scolded the instant I sent our son back to his room.
"We're only half an hour late and it's not a school night so Rye doesn't need an excuse to go to bed before eight," Finn defended himself after closing the door behind him.
He took off his scarf, ran a hand through his hair before he tossed the scarf onto the coat rack. His brown hair was a mess just like the last time I saw him. He was growing a beard now which undeniably looked good on him but still didn't excuse the fact that he brought our son, my son, home late.
"I thought I made it perfectly clear about what you were and were not supposed to do," I said, adrenaline pumping through my veins. It felt undoubtedly good to get this frustration of today out on Finn and he very well deserved it.
"This isn't about me bringing home our son a half an hour late," Finn stated. He didn't say, nor was he asking; he was stating the reason I was angry and that just made me all the more mad.
