Grace
Mama set me up.
When she called me to say she wanted to apologize for everything that happened at the church service, I should’ve known something was up. She wasn’t one to apologize—she was more one to request apologies.
When I arrived at her house a few days after finding out about Autumn’s pregnancy, and I saw the bright smile on Mama’s face, I knew something was off. I should’ve just stayed at The Silent Bookshop and avoided humans at all costs.
Especially Mama because her loyalty seemed to lay elsewhere.
My eyes locked with the man standing in front of me. “Finley.”
He was dressed in that yellow polo that I hated, and he’d recently shaved.
I hated that I noticed.
“Why are you here?” I asked him.
Mama walked over to me and gave me a small smile. “I think it’s about time you talk with your husband.”
I huffed. “Are you kidding me?”
“Grace, I’ve been calling you,” Finn stated.
“Have you? I couldn’t tell because I blocked your number.”
“Listen, I—”
Slap.
I slapped him hard against the cheek, and Mama gasped.
“Gracelyn Mae! What in the world has come over you?!” she barked, horrified.
I tilted my head in her direction. “Why in the world would you invite him here?”
“You wouldn’t speak to him any other way,” she told me.
“Can you blame me? After what happened?”
She looked baffled by my words, and I turned back to Finn. “You didn’t tell her, did you? I shouldn’t be shocked, seeing how you didn’t even have the guts to tell me yourself. It’s crazy I had to hear it from Autumn.”
“Wait…she told you?” Finn’s shoulders drooped, and he looked so pathetic. “Grace, I—”
“What’s going on?” Mama asked, but I didn’t have the patience to explain it to her.
I turned her way and shook my head in disbelief. “Would it kill you to choose me, Mama?” Would that honestly be the end of the world for you to put your daughter first?” I barked her way before storming out of the house.
“Grace, wait!” Finn said, chasing after me. I tossed off the high heels and hurried into the town square, which was packed with people and live music. Finn stayed right beside me, and as he caught up, he grabbed my arm and yanked me back, making me stumble.
“We have to talk,” he told me.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I snapped.
He grumbled and shook his head. “We need to discuss everything. Grace, I know it’s probably hard to believe but, I still love you. I’m so confused and—”
“Finley, I swear if you do not take your hands off me, I will murder you,” I shouted, making a few people turn our way. My heart rate kept climbing with each second. He was making me physically ill. The way he could stand there with his hands on my body and confess his love for me made me want to vomit.
It was so ridiculous—the whole concept of it.
He was just wasting his time speaking words of love, because I no longer believed in love.
