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“We text here and there. But the last time we talked on the phone was the day I left town. After he arranged for me to graduate online.”
So, he was working full-time, going to AA meetings, therapy, and taking final exams all at once? His time away was no vacation, that’s for sure. Our waitress comes to take our orders five minutes later, and funnily enough, Finn and I order the same thing without consulting each other.
The conversation drifts to lighter topics until Ruben’s backstory is revealed. I find out halfway through lunch that his only son passed away while driving under the influence and killed a family of three in the process. That’s what pushed Ruben, who was a widower and a raging alcoholic at the time, to get sober. Once he managed to win his fight against alcohol, he set out to help other people win theirs. Finn is the seventh person he’s sponsored.
Lunch is over before I can blink, and I end up arguing with Finn to pay the check—spoiler alert: I lose. I thank Ruben for everything he’s done for Finn before exiting the restaurant and heading for the car. We’re pulling out of the parking lot a few seconds later.
Finn rests his hand on my thigh as he drives, making my heart jolt, and I debate on moving his hand away for a moment. I ultimately decide against it.
It might not seem like a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but I know his hand squeezing my thigh means we’re taking the next step on his redemption journey.
I’m not sure what that step entails, exactly. But I find comfort in knowing that, whatever it is…
We’ll figure it out together.
* * *
The two-hour drive back to the apartment is packed with tension—couldn’t tell you what kind of tension, though. It was a tie between sexual and awkward, sprinkled with a hint of ultimatum and unbearable silence.
I knew from the moment we crossed Hillford’s town line that I’d have to make a decision sooner than later. Finn asked me to give him the day, and I did, but with our little getaway comes a dilemma I’m not ready to face. Am I willing to work on our relationship…
Or is this the end of the line for us?
The weight on my shoulders doubles as soon as we enter the apartment. We call Aveena’s and Xavier’s names a few times before coming to the conclusion that they’re not home. Finn and I settle on opposite sides of the couch, and I inwardly make a list of all the reasons why I should and shouldn’t give him another chance.
On one hand, he hurt me. Badly. He ripped my heart out of my chest the day he left, but on the other, he also walked away because he never wanted to hurt me again. He needed time and space to learn to be his own person.
My brain knows why he did what he did. It understands why he felt the need to leave, and part of me empathizes with the pain he went through during the past year, but my heart isn’t so easily swayed. It remembers every tear, every breakdown, every sleepless night. Call it self-preservation, but I’m afraid to trust him again.
The question is, can I get past it?
I inhale a breath and break the silence. “I gave you the day… like you asked.”
Fear flashes in his gaze as he chews on the inside of his cheek, and I realize I’m holding his heart in the palm of my hand. It sure makes you wonder how different things would be if he’d taken better care of mine when the roles were reserved.
“Look, Finn, I want to believe you’ve changed. That you’re never going to hurt me again. Or start drinking again, but I’m…”
“Scared,” he completes, reading between the lines. “You’re scared that you can’t trust me.”
I think back to what Mabel said at the meeting about girls throwing themselves at him.
“It doesn’t exactly help that Mabel said you were popular with the ladies in Hillford,” I mutter under my breath, looking at my feet.
Finn scoots closer to me on the couch. “Is that why you’re hesitant? Because you think I got with other girls while I was away?”
He told me the night of Theo’s party that he didn’t have sex with anyone while he was gone, but meeting that Brooke girl has left me wondering if he did other things.
“It’s just… Your friend Brooke seemed very flirty earlier. She also looked pissed when she saw us holding hands.”
A hoarse laugh leaves his mouth. “You really have no idea, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
He moves closer, shaking his head like he can’t believe I’m asking. “Even after all of this, you don’t understand the fucking hold you have over me.”
My mouth falls open when he rises off the couch abruptly and takes off his shirt without so much as a heads-up.
Holy. Mother. Of. God.
