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F O R T Y N I N E
- Maeve -
I was supposed to be clearing my inbox, but I was mostly staring at the computer screen like a vegetable. Blinking and scrolling. Forgetting to read. Starting over at the beginning. Trying to convince myself my work was important even though all I could think about was the events of that morning.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door burst open.
Finn stood before me in a black sweater, his soft brown hair unruly and his signature scruff longer than usual. He looked desperate and panicked. Wired.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, rising from my chair.
“I needed to talk to you.”
“Is everything okay?” I knew he hadn’t called. I’d been checking my phone for his name all morning.
“I needed to see you.” He stormed around the desk and grabbed my shoulders, then my cheeks.
“Your hands are freezing.” I pulled his wrists down and wrapped my palms around his balled fists. “Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”
“I’m in love with you, Maeve.”
My lips fell apart. What had I just asked him?
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I’m not going to let you do this alone.”
“Let me do what?”
“Have a baby. Start a family.”
I swallowed my shock.
“I thought about what you said, and I want to stay together.”
“You do?”
He nodded, his blue eyes searching mine. “I don’t care if you want twenty babies by twenty different men, I’m prepared to raise every single one of them as my own. I just don’t want to lose you. You’re too important to me. You’re too…” His expression was tormented, as if a hundred words were duking it out on the tip of his tongue. “I love you,” he said again.
My chest felt so full I thought it might crack down the center.
“I know I should’ve told you sooner,” he said, his hands squeezing mine. “But I didn’t think it was what you wanted.”
“What?” I shook my head. “How could that not be what I want?”
His face had never looked so serious. “Is it? Are you happy about this?”
“Are you not?” I asked. “I’m confused.”
“Me too,” he said. “About almost everything.”
I blinked at him.
“Apart from the fact that I’m crazy about you.”
“Your timing is…”
“I know,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m hoping we can laugh about it someday.”
I squinted at him. “What?”
