Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
GENEVIEVE
I kick off my heels the moment I step inside my house, sighing as relief washes over me. My whole body aches with exhaustion, not just from the long day. But from the weight of disappointment pressing down on me, making each step feel heavier than the last.
I knew the chances of getting pregnant the first time were low. I reminded myself of that fact over and over again. That didn’t make it any easier when I stared down at that first negative test. Or the second one. Or the third.
As if that hadn’t been bad enough, my period arrived this afternoon, officially cementing my disappointment.
Although there’s a ray of hope mixed in with that disappointment. Because not being pregnant means sleeping with Finn again.
I shouldn’t be looking forward to it as much as I am. Shouldn’t crave the way he touches me, the way he makes me feel things I have no business feeling.
But I do.
And that terrifies me more than any negative test ever could. Because what happens after another month of this? Or more?
Will I still be able to pretend this is just a means to an end? Or are we already past that? Has it already become something we both refuse to acknowledge? Should I tell him I’ve changed my mind before things get even more out of control?
I scrub a hand over my face and exhale deeply, trying to push the thoughts away as I strip out of my work clothes and pull on a pair of soft pajamas and an old t-shirt. Something comfortable. Something safe.
I drag myself back into the kitchen and open the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for something that might pass as dinner. I’m too tired to cook and not hungry enough to really care. The thought of ordering takeout briefly crosses my mind, but before I can act on it, a knock sounds at the front door, followed by the creak of it opening.
“Genevieve?”
I blink in surprise, stepping into the living room just as Finn slips inside.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on shift?”
“Destin owes me a bunch of favors. I called one in so he could cover the rest of my twenty-four.” He shuts the door and steps closer, his voice softening. “Figured you might want some company.”
“Finn…” I begin on a long sigh.
I don’t want him to think he needs to do this sort of thing for me because we’ve slept together. Don’t want to become dependent on him to pick up the pieces whenever I have a bad day.
Then again, Finn’s always been this way — thoughtful, selfless. Always showing up when I least expect it but somehow need it most. Tonight’s no different.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“I brought reinforcements,” he interjects before I can say anything, lifting the bags in his hands.
“Reinforcements?” I arch a brow.
“All the essentials. Wine, ice cream, and Mexican food.” He winks as he sets them down on the coffee table.
“That’s…exactly what I need tonight,” I admit, physically feeling the weight lift off my shoulders.
“I know.” He gives me an understanding smile, one that’s steady and grounding, reminding me of the depth of our friendship.
Without a second thought, I erase the space between us and wrap my arms around him. His embrace is reassuring, and I let myself sink into him. Let myself be held for a moment. A voice in my head warns this is dangerous, that I’m toeing a line I swore I wouldn’t cross. But it’s just a hug. Friends hug all the time.
Except Finn’s hugs have never felt like this before.
We settle onto the couch and dig into the feast he brought over — chips and salsa, queso , guacamole, burritos, tacos — all my favorite dishes from the local Mexican restaurant.
As we eat, Finn doesn’t ask how I’m feeling after today’s disappointing news. He doesn’t offer hollow reassurances.
Instead, we relax on the couch and watch one of my comfort movies — When Harry Met Sally . He doesn’t complain about it being some cheesy romcom. Doesn’t ask to watch something that’s more in line with the kind of movie he prefers. He simply sits beside me and gives me the best gift I didn’t know I needed today. His presence.
When I first saw this movie, I was in complete agreement with Meg Ryan’s character that men and women can be friends without eventually falling for each other. After all, for as long as I could remember, Finn has been my best friend. Like the characters in When Harry Met Sally , he’s been by my side throughout all my failed relationships. Hell, he was the one I called in tears when Ethan told me he’d fallen in love with someone else and wanted a divorce.
Lately, I’m starting to wonder if maybe Billy Crystal’s character was right all along. That eventually all the sex stuff gets in the way, especially if you cross that line.
Did Finn and I really cross that line?
It’s not like we slept together on a whim and later grew to regret it, like in the movie. Our decision was intentional and came with rules and restrictions. Granted, we definitely bent some of those rules, but we haven’t crossed that line since I stopped ovulating, keeping our friendship intact.
I refocus my attention on the movie, trying to think about anything other than my confusing feelings for Finn. It’s nearly impossible with him mere inches away. The fact we’re watching a friends-to-lovers story only serves to remind me of our relationship. Even more so now that we’ve slept together.
During the penultimate scene when Harry shows up at the New Year’s Eve party and declares his love for Sally, I can’t help but steal a glance at Finn. But he’s not looking at the television. Instead, as Harry tells Sally how he loves each of her little quirks, his gaze traces over me. From my eyes. To my nose. Then to my mouth.
He licks his lips and his blue eyes darken. Much like they did earlier today at the fire station.
The room suddenly feels too warm, the air between us too charged. It would be so easy to close the distance. To press my mouth against his. To erase the lines I’ve been careful to draw. And for one reckless second, I almost do.
But if I kiss him, if I let myself fall into this, I won’t merely blur the lines. I’ll obliterate them.
And what happens when it all falls apart?
Because it will. It always does.
My marriage to Ethan is proof of that.
Reality crashes back in, and I tear my gaze away, jumping to my feet. “I should get some sleep,” I say quickly. “It’s been a long day.”
Finn blinks, his expression unreadable. He parts his lips, and I sense he’s about to tell me something important. That maybe he’s about to take a page from Billy Crystal’s book and declare his love after all our years of friendship.
A foolish part of me wants him to.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he pushes out a sigh and pulls himself to stand.
Approaching me, he touches a soft kiss to my cheek before making his way out of my house, leaving me alone with my conflicted thoughts about whether men and women could ever truly just be friends.
Or if this thing between Finn and me has been inevitable from the day we met.