“You watch sitcoms?” I ask, with a half-smile. It just doesn’t sound like him.
“Well, no,” he admits. “I caught a few episodes of one or two when I was younger. I don’t exactly have the time for casual shows anymore.”
“Wait, really?” I ask. “What do you do to relax?”
“Watch art films,” he says, and shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “I know that makes me sound like I’m either massively pretentious or a nerd, but I actually really enjoy them. And they help with work, of course.”
“Right.” I nod understandingly, then duck my head again. It’s so easy with Finn. It’s always like this – how we can slip into casual conversation like that, without even thinking about it. We can talk about anything and anyone. Even when we should be worried, should be focusing on the matter at hand. Even when we shouldn’t be talking at all.
“Look, I just needed to see you,” Finn says, getting serious again. “I… Candy, I can’t let this be the end of things. Not like this. I need to see you again.”
“You’re seeing me now,” I say, lifting my head but not my eyes. I can’t bear to meet his gaze, just in case I crumble and tell him that I can’t wait to see him again either. “So, whatever it is you wanted to say, just say it. Then we can have this all over with and get on with our lives, and try to put things right.”
“Candy, no,” Finn says. He takes a sharp breath and then shakes his head in my peripheral vision. “I can’t just let it go like this. Not without giving it a chance.”
“A chance?” I repeat. “Didn’t we already have that? We gave this a chance, and it blew up in both of our faces. I’ve lost my best friend, and you’re in danger of losing your daughter. Especially if she knows we’re meeting again.”
“I know.” Finn sighs, resting his hands on the table in front of me. They reach almost all the way over to me but not quite, as if he’s hesitant about crossing that last bit of distance. I certainly feel hesitant about reaching out and closing the gap. “I just can’t stop thinking about you. The way I feel – I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but I can’t just ignore this. I feel so much more for you than I imagined I ever would for anyone. I can’t let this go to waste. Candy, we could have something so special here. I want you to be mine.”
“Then what do you suggest?” I ask, only just holding back from snapping. “No matter how much we may want this, we have to think about the consequences. About the people who could get hurt – including ourselves.”
“It’s worth it,” Finn says, then ducks his head slightly. “Any pain I feel, I mean. The last thing I want is to hurt you or Lexie.”
“Then why are you here?” I ask. “You know how upset Alex would be if she knew.”
“I know, I know.” Finn sighs, then rubs his forehead with two fingers. “I know that this doesn’t make sense. I can’t explain it. But what I’m about to ask you – I have to ask. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t.”
“What is it?” I ask, my mouth feeling dry. If he can forgive himself for what we’ve already done, then I hate to think what it might be that is so important he wouldn’t be able to.
“I want you to give me a chance this weekend,” he says. “Let’s have the weekend we were planning. Nothing has changed – we still need to keep it quiet, especially from Lexie. And this weekend still gives us the chance to do that. She won’t have to know. You can say you’ve gone home to your parents – if you even need to tell her anything – and I can make excuses about working late. She doesn’t even have to know that I’ve left the city. Please?”
I think about what to say to that. I’m divided in two. Part of me knows that this is wrong, and getting more wrong by the minute. I shouldn’t be here, and I certainly shouldn’t be talking to him. But to contemplate going away with him this weekend, against Alex’s wishes, and lying to her yet again, would be even worse than that. It’s just about the worst thing we could do, at this moment in time.
But on the other hand, I see the logic. If we go away together and we can’t work this out, then she doesn’t have to know. I go back to being her roommate, he goes back to being her father, and we never have to cross paths again. We can tell her that we respected her decision not to see each other again.