Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
FINN
As I finish the rest of my beer, I can’t stop thinking about what Jude said. How, if I’m this worked up about the situation, I already know what to do. Can I really ask Genevieve to consider me? And what would that mean for our friendship if she turns me down?
But am I willing to stand by as she goes through this with someone else?
Someone who may not honor her wishes?
Someone who might hurt her? Make things difficult for her?
I hoped talking to my brother would give me clarity. But I’m even more confused than I was before. I doubt the beer is helping. Instead of having another, I say my goodbyes and head out.
The summer air hits me as I step outside, warm and sweet. The streets of downtown Sycamore Falls are alive with people — families heading to dinner, couples strolling hand in hand, kids darting between storefronts. It’s the kind of lively chaos that’s supposed to feel comforting, a reminder of the summer nights I spent with my family when I was a kid.
Tonight, it just makes everything worse.
I shove my hands into my pockets and start walking with no destination in mind as I try to make sense of my thoughts.
As I walk, Genevieve’s list continues to flash before my eyes, the names blurring together. Each one feels like a punch to the gut. Not because they’re bad guys.
Because they’re not me.
I can’t shake the image of her with someone else, someone she doesn’t love, just to have a baby. She deserves more than that. She deserves someone who cares about her, who knows her better than anyone else. Someone who would move heaven and earth to make sure she and that baby have everything they need.
Someone like me.
I pass by a park bench where a woman sits cradling a baby. She’s rocking gently, murmuring something soft and sweet. The baby’s tiny hand curls around her finger, clinging to her like she’s their whole world.
The sight hits me like a sucker punch, and I stop in my tracks.
For as long as I can remember, Genevieve has wanted this. A baby. A family. All things I’ve never wanted for myself. Not because I’m against them, but because that desire has never burned in me the way it does in her.
But this? Helping her have a baby without all the strings? Maybe this is something I can do.
The knot in my chest loosens enough for me to breathe again. I don’t know if this is the best idea I’ve ever had or the dumbest, but I know one thing for sure. I can’t stand by and let someone else do this with her and not say something.
Spinning on my heels, I practically run down the sidewalk toward the municipal parking lot and hop in my truck, feeling more certain than I have in a long time.
When I pull into the driveway of Genevieve’s house, I kill the ignition and grip the steering wheel, staring at the cozy white cottage with blue door, my heart thundering in my ears as adrenaline courses through my veins.
I run into burning buildings for a living. Spent four years in the army risking my life on a daily basis.
But this?
This may be the scariest thing I’ve ever done.
But I’ll regret it if I don’t.
I’m out of my truck before I can talk myself out of it, my legs carrying me up to her front door in a way that makes me think there’s some bigger force at play here.
I’m about to punch my code into her door like I normally do whenever I come over. But I don’t feel right about barging in on her, then having this conversation. Instead, I press the doorbell.
The sound echoes through the house, and time slows to a crawl.
I don’t hear any movement at first.
Maybe she’s out with her sister.
Or worse, maybe she’s already out with someone on her list, getting the ball rolling with some other guy.
The thought nearly makes me turn around.
Finally, soft footsteps shuffle inside, growing louder as they approach, each one like a drumbeat counting down to something I pray I’m ready for.
The lock turns and the door swings open, revealing Genevieve in yoga pants and a faded T-shirt that says “Try reading books instead of banning them”. Her dark hair is piled in a messy bun, a few loose strands curling around her face. No makeup. No effort.
And still, she’s beautiful.
She’s always beautiful.
“Why did you ring the doorbell? Did you forget your code?”
For a split second, I consider coming up with some other excuse for being here and letting her plan unfold without me.
But the thought has my stomach in knots.
“I didn’t forget anything.” My voice is rougher than I expect. “But you did.”
She blinks repeatedly, a small furrow forming in her brow. “I did?”
I nod. “Your list. You forgot a name.”
“I’m not sure I?—”
“You forgot my name.”
Her eyes widen as she stares at me for what feels like an eternity, my words seeming to echo in the space between us.
“Finn, I?—”
“I know it’s crazy,” I begin, pacing the length of her porch as I tug on my hair, making me look even more disheveled than I probably already do. “But you’re my best friend, Genevieve.”
“And you’re mine.”
“Which is why I want to be the one to give this to you.” I approach her, instinctively cupping her face. My thumbs brush the smooth skin of her cheekbones, and I don’t miss the way her breath catches.
It’s not the first time I’ve touched her, but something about this moment feels different. Bigger, somehow.
“Do you really want to have a baby?” I ask, my voice low. “A family?”
Her lips part, but it takes a second for her to speak. “You know I do.”
“Then if this is the path you’re taking, you need someone you can trust. Someone you know won’t want anything more from you.”
“And you’ll never want anything more.”
It’s not a question, but a statement. Still, I can’t help but hear an undercurrent of something in her words. Disappointment maybe?
I drop my hands from her, putting space between us. “Our friendship is too important to me. You can trust me to keep the lines firmly drawn.”
She presses her lips together and studies me for several protracted moments. I expect for her to tell me it’s a bad idea. Hell, I know it’s a bad idea.
That’s not enough of a reason for me to walk away or rescind my offer.
“You’ll need you to get tested for STDs and fertility.”
“Already done.”
I reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell, scrolling to the email I received earlier in the day with my test results. I hold out the screen so she can see for herself.
“My pH levels are good. Sperm concentration is way over 16 million per millimeter. Motility is over 50%. According to the clinic, I can get the job done.”
She releases a nervous laugh. “You’ve really given this some thought.”
“A bit,” I answer nonchalantly, although I haven’t been able to think about much else since Monday.
“I… I don’t know what to say. It’s a lot to think about. I started that list with Claire for fun, so this…”
“You don’t need to give me an answer right now. Just say you’ll think about it. No matter what you decide, I’ll still support you. I just… I want you to have everything you deserve and don’t want you to get hurt in the process. That’s all.”
Something flickers in her gaze before she steps forward and wraps her arms around me. Her head rests against my chest, and I close my eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo.
“Thanks, Finn. I’ll think about it.”