“Is it though?” She hesitates, biting her lip like she’s not sure she wants to keep going. I feel strangely nervous, and I don’t know why. “It could be both of our choice. If you wanted.”
“Caroline—”
“I know we agreed that after this was all over, you’d divorce me. That was the deal, right? But maybe, I don’t know, if you wanted?—”
I pull her against me and kiss her hard. To hell with it. What’s the point of this stupid dance anyway? When the kiss breaks apart, I tighten my grip on her. “I’m not divorcing you. Remember? You’re not going anywhere.”
She shivers and smiles. “That’s creepy.”
“Good.”
“You mean it though?”
“I love you. Always have, always will. We’re the same, right?”
“We’re the same. And I love you too.” She rests her head against my chest. I’m sure she can hear my racing heart. I smile up at the sun, and for the first time in a while, it’s like the light’s finally hitting my skin, like I’m not wearing a mask over my face. There’s nothing between me and the world anymore.
“It’s still your choice. I support you no matter what.”
“Do you want it though? We can accept together. We’re the same, right? Me and you?”
I stroke her hair. “I’d like that.”
“Good. That settles it. We’ll take over the Flanagan business together. Think Declan will be okay with that?”
“Yes, but screw him either way.”
She laughs and hugs me one more time before pulling back. We stroll slowly around the tight garden, through the thick foliage and the profusion of blooms and plants.
“What should we do with all this? I mean, all the money and property? I mean, I know you’re already rich, but this is really new to me.”
“I think you should enjoy yourself for a while. You don’t need to figure it all out immediately, right?”
“I guess not.”
“Let’s take a honeymoon together. We’ll go on a real trip somewhere nice.”
“Oh, really? And where were you thinking?”
“Somewhere far away with beaches.”
“I’d like that.”
We loop back around toward the house. It’s listing to the side. We really shouldn’t go back inside, but to hell with it. We tour through the rotten, burned-out husk one last time, and Caroline says there’s nothing else she wants from it, except for a bag stuffed with skinny black ledgers. She hoists it over her shoulder and storms out of there.
“Good riddance,” she calls out as she slams the front door.
Something inside collapses and she laughs as she hurries away toward the waiting car.
40
FINN
Roger MacAllister and Dickey Gray stare from across the table. The two big union heads watch me carefully, clearly waiting for something. I glance down, wondering if it’s my tan they’re studying. Caroline and I just spent three weeks in Mexico and only got back a few days ago.
Dickey clears his throat. He’s a thick man with gray hair. He glances at his counterpart and Roger seems equally put off. We’re in a Flanagan-owned conference room in a high-rise downtown. I guess technically this is my wife’s place now, but the documents are still in the works.
“Well, Finn, you called us here, and we took the meeting out of respect for you and your family. The tragedy with Eamon—” He shakes his head and shifts in his seat. “After losing his boys, only for the rest of them to go up in a damn house fire—” He glances at Caroline and turns red like he just realized she was there. “Pardon how crude I’m being, ma’am.”