Chapter 41
Forty-One
Finn
Switzerland is beautiful.
The spectacular scenery, the trains and buses that get me everywhere with ease.
The snowcapped mountains overlooking the rolling green hills.
The bright blue lakes fed from the glaciers miles away.
The clean air. The charming streets. The cafes that let you linger over a coffee or an Aperol spritz.
And even with all of that…I’m miserable.
Not all the time.
I’ve had good moments.
I’ve sledded on top of a glacier, taken a cogwheel train up the side of a mountain at a seemingly impossible angle, ridden gondolas over little Swiss towns that are as quaint as they are beautiful.
And the food.
The pastries are so buttery they nearly make me cry. The markets are a mix of adorable crafts and junky trinkets—and I love looking at all of them.
But underneath all of that wonderfulness is an ache.
A sense of wrongness.
Like I’m slowly drifting through a dream I’ve wanted for years only to realize it’s actually a nightmare.
All because the people I want to share this with most of all aren’t here.
So by the time I make it back to my hostel after another day of pretending I’m having more fun than I actually am, I’m tired in a way I know sleep won’t fix.
I head up the steps, reach for the door—
And stop dead.
Because Rhodes is sitting on the bench less than ten feet away.
For one dizzying second, I genuinely think I’m making him up.
That my brain has finally given in to delusion and I’m hallucinating the man I miss with such intensity.
Then he stands.
And…no hallucination could look that wrecked.
That broken.
His eyes lock onto mine, and my pulse leaps so hard in my veins that I actually have to lock my knees in order to keep my feet. “What are you doing here?” I whisper when he’s close enough to hear me, close enough for me to see the deep brown of his eyes, smell the spicy male scent of him.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. And finally rasps out, “I was looking for you.”
I hate that those five words almost undo me on the spot.
“Well,” I say, tightening my middle, doing my best to hold myself together. “You found me.” I turn to go.
“Finn.”
I freeze, can’t stop myself from rotating back to face him.
He takes one step closer, then stops like he doesn’t trust himself to take another. “I was trying to protect Chloe,” he says, his voice so rough it scours over my skin like sandpaper. “And to protect myself from losing you.”
My throat tightens.
He swallows. “I was too scared to realize you were the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”
That…
God, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear.
I just…
How can I possibly believe it?
I close my eyes for half a second. “It’s okay,” I say, though it isn’t, not really. “I get it. You have to be a dad first.”
“Stitch,” he says gently.
I shake my head. “No. I mean that. You do have to be a dad first. I just…” My voice cracks and, God, I hate that show of weakness. I blow out a breath, square my shoulders. “The truth is that I need someone to pick me for me. To not see a person who won’t measure up. But to see me.”
“I do, baby,” he says, stepping closer. “I swear I do. I was…I was a fucking coward and terrified of losing you, and I ended up pushing you away instead. I hurt you. I know I did, and I am so damned sorry for it. But you’re not what your parents accuse you of being, not what I insinuated that night—you’re hardworking and funny and so freaking smart.
And brave. To do this—” He sweeps an arm out.
“To set yourself up so you can go after your dreams. That’s fucking incredible, baby. ”
“Rhodes,” I whisper.
“I let fear get in the way of truth.” He takes my hand, holds it like it’s the most precious object in the universe. “Please give me another chance to prove to you that I know how wonderful you are.”
My heart hurts. No. It’s shattering into a million pieces.
Not because I think he’s lying.
But because…I believe him.
And because believing him doesn’t magically erase what happened.
I exhale softly and force myself to say, “I can’t.”
He doesn’t react for a second.
Then he nods. Slowly.
Like I just confirmed something he already suspected.
Like he already knew it was going to be too late.
Then he reaches up, touches my cheek with the backs of his knuckles, and the tenderness in his next words nearly slices me in two. “I know,” he says quietly. “And you don’t have to forgive me, Stitch.”
My heart squeezes.
“I just needed you to know I was wrong.” A beat. “So fucking wrong.”
He drops his hand.
Turns.
And starts walking away.
I should leave it there.
It would be smarter, safer.
But not…
Braver.
I glance down, realize he’s tucked something into my hand.
It’s…a postcard.
I hold it up, see it’s identical to the one I sent Chloe a couple of weeks ago.
Except for the writing on the back.
Tears spill over as I read the words.
I wasn’t brave enough to see the truth until now, Stitch. But I’ve been yours since the first time I almost bowled you over on the porch.
Love,
Rhodes
I don’t think.
I just run, bolting down the sidewalk, my legs no longer tired, my body fueled by adrenaline and happiness and…
Hope.
“Rhodes, wait!”
He stops.
Turns.
Lets me catch up, my chest heaving, my hair in my face, my dignity nowhere to be found.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.
His brows draw together. “What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”
I suck in a breath. Release it so I can speak clearly. Then say, “For making you walk away after you flew across the world to grovel.”
For one second, he just stares.
Then his mouth hitches up.
But it’s his eyes that undo me.
They’re glossy with tears.
Because this means as much to him as it means to me.
And everything I’ve been feeling, everything I’ve been shoving down…it all bursts forward.
I close the distance and fist both hands in his jacket. “You hurt me.”
Regret across his gorgeous face. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“And I still kind of want to throttle you for being such an idiot.”
He chuckles, but it’s rough around the edges, same as his attempt at a joke. “That seems like a fair trade.”
“But I also…” I blink back my tears.” I’ve missed you so freaking much.”
The relief that sweeps over his face is so intense it steals my breath. But he only cups my jaw with incredible gentleness and says, “I’ve missed you too.”
I laugh shakily.
“What?” he murmurs.
“It’s just…you came all this way.” I lean into his touch.
He looks at me like I’m ridiculous. “Yeah.”
“You just could have called.”
A shake of his head. “No, I couldn’t have.”
“But…why?”
“Because I love you.”
Those words—
They set my tears flowing and then I don’t have any hope of holding back. I lift up on tiptoe and kiss him.
And the second his mouth meets mine, all those hurts inside me give way.
To hope.
To joy.
To…love.
And when we finally break apart, he brushes his thumb over my cheek and says, very seriously, “I wasn’t leaving.”
“No?”
“No.” He grins and my heart swells. “I was just going to buy you some really good chocolate to bribe you with.”
And that’s when he kisses me again.