FINN THOMPSON
It’s been a week since my last message to Maya. Every day I wake up and resist the urge to send more, but I don’t want to bombard her and push her further away.
I’ve been wracking my brain trying to remember slivers of that night, but I come up empty each time, which only solidifies my fears. I was an asshole, and now I’m paying the consequences.
Silas and Ronan are playing a game on PlayStation as I lounge downstairs with them, but my mind keeps wandering. I had classes early this morning and made about three words’ worth of notes. Nothing else matters to me right now than the fact I have a family.
“Your go, Finn.” Silas hands me the controller.
“I don’t feel like it.”
Ronan shrugs. “Come on. It’s only a bit of fun.”
I huff and take it from his hands. “Fine.”
Silas explains what to do as I attempt to reload and duck behind walls, but my head is not in the game at all. My phone vibrates, and I glance over at it to find Maya’s name on the screen. I throw the controller like it’s a hot potato.
“What the hell?” Ronan calls out, his eyes on the screen. “Thompson, I needed your backup, asshole.”
I ignore him as I scramble for my phone and unlock the screen to read the message, my heart pounding in my throat.
Maya:
We should meet
Finn:
Yeah, sure. Where and when?
The three dots appear and disappear multiple times. I run my hands through my hair in anticipation.
Not with Skye
Okay
We should talk first
Sure. Where?
At the Oak Tree Café in an hour
I’ll be there
I stare at my phone for a long moment as I psych myself up. She could be telling me that she doesn’t want me anywhere near our daughter, that I’ve fucked up too badly to fix, that she’ll grow up without a dad.
My stomach bottoms out, and I take a steady breath.
“Where are you going?” Silas calls out as I leave the living room.
“Got places to be.”
“Where?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
I get ready in record time and check my watch every five minutes before heading out of the house. I arrive at the Oak Tree Café early and perch by the window. My leg jigs as I study every person who walks in and out.
My eyes move to my phone to distract myself, but I can’t focus on a single thing. The bell above the door rings, and I glance over to find Maya strolling towards me. Everything starts to slow when my eyes land on her face, with her hair swept back into a ponytail.
My lips part at the sight of her and the way my body immediately craves her affections, but I’ve sent us a thousand steps back.
Despite the exhaustion on her face, light shines from behind when I look at her like it always has.
My heart weeps because it knows she’s my future, the only future I’ll ever want.
And I chose to destroy myself instead.
I hop off the seat to greet her. “Hey.”
Maya purses her lips. “Hey.”
She sounds defeated, and that fills me with dread.
“Uh, I ordered you a caramel latte,” I say as I point to the drinks on the table.
I notice the way she swallows as she studies the mug. “Oh, thanks, but I’ve cut out caffeine for the moment.”
“Oh, shit,” I murmur, feeling completely out of my depth because I haven’t seen her in almost eight months. “I can order you another, a decaf one.”
Maya shakes her head. “It’s fine. I didn’t come for a drink, and I can’t be too long.”
I watch as she sits down on the chair, and I take the one opposite. “Right, sure. How are you?”
She remains silent for a long moment, and it’s near deafening. “I don’t know if what you’re saying is true,” she sighs and finally meets my eyes. “About wanting to see Skye.”
I’m nodding before she finishes talking. “It is. I want to be a part of her life.”
Maya licks her bottom lip as she glances out the window, sucking in a harsh breath. “Finn, I can’t have you walk into her life for you to realise this is too much and walk back out again. She’s a baby, and she deserves a father who’s going to be there for her.”
My throat clogs with emotion at the reality of her words. “And I want to be that father,” I say with conviction. I feel it in my veins. How can I live knowing I have a daughter and not want to spend time with her?
“I’m so angry at you,” she grumbles.
I can see it in her irises. Festering fury mixed with agonising pain. Maya’s never been good at masking her emotions, they’re always plastered across her face for the world to see. And for this exact reason, I wish I couldn’t see the hurt I’ve caused.
I lower my eyes a fraction. “I know, and you should be.”
Maya clasps her trembling hands together in her lap.
“What did I say? Tell me, please,” I plead.
I need to know. I need to know if there’s a chance that she’ll ever forgive me.
She inhales a large breath as her lip trembles subtly. “You were so angry at me, like it was only my fault I got pregnant. You said that I was selfish, and this would ruin your life, and that you wouldn’t be there because you didn’t want to deal with it.”
I bury my head in my hands. “Jesus Christ.” Nausea creeps through me at an alarming rate, and I find even more deep-rooted hatred for myself.
“Maya—” She remains silent as I look up at her.
“I was struggling, and I was the one who was selfish. You needed me, and I turned my back on you. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
” My hands begin to shake, and the pain that hits me is unbearable.
“My only rational thought is that I knew I was such a mess and there was no way I thought I could be a worthy father.”
She sniffles, and I hate that I can’t comfort her after the damage I’ve done.
“What I said was unacceptable. But that wasn’t me talking, it was the alcohol and my internalised fears. I promise you.”
“What internalised fears?”
“That I wasn’t good enough for you guys. You could never be selfish, Maya. I’m the one who is selfish for not thinking about you. I was so self-absorbed, and those days fucking haunt me, knowing I hurt the one person who would have done anything for me.”
Maya’s chest quivers, and when she lifts her head, I see the tears resting in her eyes. “You were everything to me,” she says as her voice cracks. “And you shattered me to pieces.”
“Fuck,” I choke as I press my hands to my eyes. “Maya—”
“So please forgive me if I think your sudden interest in Skye seems odd,” she blurts harshly.
I press a hand to my chest. “I’m the one in the wrong. And I know I need to earn your trust. There’s nothing I want more than to be present.”
“I have to protect my baby.” She straightens her spine, and it hurts to know she doesn’t reference Skye as ours.
Why would she when she’s the one who has been there since she was born?
“And I don’t know your intentions,” she carries on.
“I know,” I whisper. “I’ll never be able to live with myself knowing I never got to experience Skye growing up. I have no right to ask for another chance, but please let me show you I’m not that guy anymore. Everything will be on your terms.”
“How can I ever trust you again?”
Her words feel like shots to my heart.
“I want to be better,” I plead with a heavy chest. “And I’ll prove that you can trust me.”
Maya flicks her eyes between mine slowly for a moment. She slides her hand into her jacket pocket and retrieves her phone before looking at the screen and sighing. “I need to go.”
My entire body deflates. This wasn’t enough time.
“Wait.” The word sounds desperate and pathetic. “When will I see you again?”
“I don’t know, Finn,” she sniffles. “I don’t know if this is fixable.”
Then she stands from the chair and walks out of the café, leaving me sitting here, wondering how I fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.