CHAPTER THREE: A NIGHT OUT OF LINE
1369 Words
Zillah’s message came just after noon.
Dinner tonight. My parents. Don’t be late.
Finn stared at his phone longer than necessary, thumb hovering over the screen. There was no please, no warmth. Just expectation. Obligation. The kind that had followed him his entire life like a shadow he couldn’t outrun.
He replied anyway.
I’ll be there.
Dinner with Zillah’s family was never just dinner. It was inspection. Polite smiles sharpened into judgment, conversations dressed up as concern but laced with reminders of duty. Finn arrived on time, perfectly dressed, perfectly controlled. The version of himself everyone expected.
Zillah greeted him with a kiss to the cheek light, formal. Her parents watched with approval.
Halfway through the meal, the conversation shifted.
“So,” her father said, setting his glass down. “Have you thought more about the wedding timeline?”
Finn stiffened. “We’ve talked about this.”
Zillah smiled tightly. “Not seriously enough.”
Her mother chimed in, gentle but firm. “There’s no reason to delay. You’re both ready.”
Finn’s fork paused midair. His chest felt tight. “I don’t think readiness should be decided for me.”
The table went quiet.
Zillah’s eyes hardened. “This again?”
“I’m just saying”he tried.
“You’re saying you want to embarrass my family?” her father snapped.
Finn looked at Zillah, searching for understanding. He found none. Only expectation.
“I want time,” he said calmly, though his hands were shaking beneath the table. “That shouldn’t be a crime.”
Zillah laughed, sharp and humorless. “Time for what, Finn? To figure out how to be grateful?”
That did it.
He stood up, chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I won’t be spoken to like that.”
“You won’t walk out on us,” her father warned.
But Finn already was.
Arthur was waiting when Finn got home.
The living room lights were on. Too bright. Too intentional.
“I hear you humiliated my friend,” Arthur said without preamble.
Finn didn’t remove his jacket. “I stood up for myself.”
“You disrespected your fiancée.”
“I don’t love her.”
The silence that followed was heavy dangerous.
Arthur’s voice rose. “Love is irrelevant. Duty is not.”
Finn clenched his jaw. “I am not a transaction.”
Arthur stepped closer. “You are my son. And you will apologize tomorrow.”
“No.”
Arthur’s hand slammed against the table. “You will do as you’re told.”
Something in Finn cracked not loudly, not dramatically. Just enough to hurt.
He turned and walked away.
His room felt too small.
Finn sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, breath uneven. He had never raised his voice like that. Never walked away. Never refused.
A soft knock.
Lily slipped in, already smiling like she knew everything. “So,” she said, sitting beside him. “That was loud.”
He let out a tired laugh. “I messed up.”
“No,” she said gently. “You finally did something.”
Finn looked at her. “Dad hates me.”
“He’ll survive.” She nudged his shoulder. “You, on the other hand, look like you’re suffocating.”
He didn’t deny it.
“Come with me,” Lily said suddenly.
“Where?”
“Out. Somewhere loud. Somewhere you’re not Finn Arthur for once.”
He hesitated. “I shouldn’t.”
She grinned. “Exactly.”
Finn stood up.
For the first time in his life, he chose not to follow the rules.
The party was loud, alive, reckless.
Music pulsed through his veins as Lily dragged him onto the dance floor. Laughter came easily too easily. Drinks flowed.
And then he saw him.
Adrian stood near the bar, same easy smile, same familiar presence that made Finn’s chest tighten.
“Hey,” Adrian grinned. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Neither did I,” Finn admitted.
They talked. Danced. Drank.
At some point Lily disappeared with friends, leaving Finn alone with Adrian and it felt natural.
“Want to go somewhere quieter?” Adrian asked.
Finn nodded.
They stepped outside, cold air wrapping around them. Conversation softened, slowed.
“My life’s… controlled,” Finn confessed. “Everything planned.”
Adrian smiled sadly. “There’s more than that. More than duty.”
They moved closer without noticing. Adrian’s arm slid around Finn’s waist.
Finn noticed.
He didn’t stop him.
When he shifted, Adrian pulled him back too fast, too close. Their faces hovered inches apart.
Finn’s breath caught.
A sudden noise broke the moment.
They laughed awkwardly, stepping apart.
“It’s late,” Finn said.
They exchanged numbers before searching for Lily.
They returned home quietly, believing no one had seen them.
But the butler did.
He said nothing.
Morning came with tension.
Arthur barely looked at Finn during breakfast. “You’ll apologize today.”
Finn argued briefly.
Eventually, he agreed.
Finn stood before the tall iron gates of the Hawthorne estate longer than necessary, bouquet in hand. White lilies. Zillah’s favorite. His father had insisted on them proper, appropriate, respectful. Everything Finn was expected to be.
The housekeeper let him in with a polite smile, already aware of why he was there. News traveled fast in their circle. Too fast.
Zillah was in the sitting room with her parents when he entered. She looked composed, dressed in soft pastels, elegance carved into her posture. Her mother’s eyes assessed him carefully, while her father’s expression remained unreadable.
Finn bowed his head slightly.
“I’m here to apologize,” he said, voice calm, controlled. “For my behavior at dinner.”
Zillah’s father nodded once. “You embarrassed my family, Finn.”
“I know,” Finn replied. And he did just not in the way they thought.
The conversation remained polite, stiff. Apologies were accepted, though not warmly. The tension eased only when Zillah excused them both, guiding Finn into the adjoining room.
“You didn’t have to come personally,” she said softly, though her tone carried expectation rather than comfort.
“I did,” Finn answered. “It was the right thing to do.”
She smiled then, pleased. Too pleased.
Soon enough, fabric books were brought out. Wedding planners appeared. Zillah spoke animatedly about gowns, cuts, colors, venues. Finn sat beside her, nodding when required, responding when prompted.
“You think ivory suits me better than white?” she asked, holding up two samples.
“They both do,” Finn said after a pause. “Choose what you like. It’s your day.”
Your day.
The words left his mouth easily. Too easily.
Zillah didn’t notice. She was already talking about suits for him, colors that would match hers, how their names would look engraved together.
After an hour, Finn stood.
“I have somewhere I need to be,” he said gently.
Zillah blinked. “Now?”
“Yes. I’ll see you later.”
She wanted to argue, but before she could alter another word, Finn was already out of the room.
The café was quiet when Finn arrived, the familiar warmth washing over him the moment he stepped inside. He scanned the room instinctively.
Adrian was already there.
Sitting by the window. Jacket draped over the chair. Coffee untouched. Like he had been waiting.
Something in Finn’s chest loosened.
“You’re late,” Adrian said with a grin when he noticed him.
“I had… obligations,” Finn replied, sitting across from him.
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You always do.” He said with a little smile .
They talked. Slowly at first. Then easily. About nothing. About everything. Adrian spoke about freedom, about choosing mornings without schedules, nights without expectations. Finn listened like a starving man.
“Do you ever wonder who you’d be without all that?” Adrian asked quietly.
Finn didn’t answer immediately.
“Yes,” he said finally. “All the time.”
The silence between them felt heavier then. Warmer.
Adrian stood suddenly. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere better.”
Finn hesitated. Just a second.
Then he stood.
- Writer
