I nod as she finally finds her sneaker and begins to pull it on. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” The words stick in my throat, but I force them out. “I wanted to know if we’re…good.”
Finley stops moving, her shoulders stiff. “Why do you ask that?”
I let out a sigh, knowing my fears are confirmed. I think my chest is caving in on itself. That’s what has to be happening, right? It’s the only reasonable explanation for the pain.
Pushing a hand through my hair, I say, “Fin, please.” It’s all I can manage, and I hate how desperate it comes out, how wrecked I must sound. I’m showing all my hands, serving my heart to her on a platter for her to do with it what she wants.
Her eyes fall to the ground, avoiding mine. “Grey.” It’s all she says, like she can’t manage more. After a long, painful moment, she says, “I think you should go to Maine.”
I stare at her, confused, uncomprehending. “I’m going to Maine. Tomorrow.”
I’m horrified as I watch tears form in her eyes, inching one by one down her cheeks. “No, I think you should move there.”
“What?” Later, I might wish I’d been more eloquent, that I had denied her idea from the start. But right now, I’m too lost to say anything of worth.
She sinks against her bed, hands gripping the pale purple quilt like it’s the only thing keeping her from sliding to the ground.“When Charlie was here, I saw how happy you were. He told me what a good opportunity it is. And then when I asked you why you weren’t going, you said…” She trails off, the words hanging in the air. I told her I was staying for her. I almost told her it was because I love her, that I can’t imagine leaving.
And suddenly, I can’t hold it in anymore. I need to say it like I need my next breath. I need her to hear it, to know why I can’t leave, no matter what could be waiting for me in Maine. It couldn’t possibly be better than this. Than her.
“Finley, I love you.”
I don’t know how I expected her to respond, but I didn’t think she’d recoil like I’d hit her. Her eyes shutter closed, and she swallows like it hurts. “Grey, please, don’t say that.”
My feet move of their own accord, taking me farther into the bedroom, closer to her, needing to touch her, to prove to myself that this is just some twisted dream. This can’t be real, not now, not after everything.
I sink to my knees in front of her, putting us close to eye level so that she can’t hide from me anymore. “Finley.” Her eyes settle on mine. Hazel. Lined with silver tears. Shattered. “Please, sweetheart, tell me what’s going on.”
Thesweetheartseems to be her undoing. Her tears track faster down her cheeks, fat drops landing on my hands where they rest on her thighs.
“You can’t stay for me, Grey. I’m not—I won’t be—” She shakes her head, as if clearing her thoughts. “I need you to go tomorrow and give it a chance. I need you to see if you could love it there. You can’t stay here just for me.”
I try to decipher what she isn’t saying, but I can’t think clearly. I feel like I’m being split open by her pain and my own, unable to fix it.
She holds my gaze for so long that I know she’s waiting for me to agree. But I can’t. “Finley, I know what I want. I’m not going to Maine to check it out. I’m just going to visit.”
She shakes her head, short blond hair swishing around her shoulders. “No, please. I need you to give it a chance.”
I’m trying desperately to understand, to make sense of what she’s asking and why, but I can’t. “Why?”
Her jaw tightens, her face looking more pained than it has since we started this conversation. “You can’t stay for me, Grey. It would kill me.”
“Why?” I ask again, needing to understand.
It takes her a long time to respond. So long that I think she’s not going to say anything at all. “You might regret it. I might not be enough to make you happy. Not forever.”
Her words knock the breath from me, a blow straight to my solar plexus, and suddenly, everything makes sense. Gus, the bookshop, how she’s pushing me away now. She thinks she’s not enough. She thinks she wasn’t enough to make Gus stay, that she won’t be smart or savvy enough to start another business, that she won’t be enough to make me happy.
She hasn’t figured out that she’s the sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that have hung over my life so far. That while her family and my aunt and Charlie and my job have been enough to keep the rain at bay, there wasn’t any sunlight until her.
“Finley, I love you,” I say again, and this time, it doesn’t sound like a broken plea. It sounds like a statement, a fact, an absolute truth. I watch the words land. She doesn’t shrink away, but I can tell she’s still not sure that it’s enough. “No one and nothing has ever made me as happy as you do, and no one or nothing will ever again.” My throat tightens, a lump lodged there that I have to swallow against. “I’ve been broken for so long, Fin, and you’ve been putting me back together. I’ve never met anyone I could bemyself with the way I am with you, and I don’t think I will again. What we have is special, remarkable. Once in a lifetime. The stuff of dreams.”
My voice wobbles, but I will it to stay strong. I will myself to hold her gaze, even though it looks as shattered as I feel. I hope she will let us put each other together again, but I know she won’t unless I do what she asks. Unless she thinks I’ve explored every last option and still choose her. She doesn’t realize I’ve been doing that for the last fifteen years, searching for someone who could compare to her, and I’ve come up short every single damn time.
“I’ll do it,” I finally say, and watch as her shoulders sag with relief. “I think this is stupid, though. I feel like I should make that known.”
Some of the tension coiling in my stomach unknots when she laughs. It’s throaty and choked with tears, but it sounds like my favorite song anyway.
“That’s okay,” she replies. “We wouldn’t be us if I didn’t annoy you a little, right?”
