Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
FINN
I don’t open my eyes right away.
A quiet, insistent voice warns that whatever today brings, I won’t like it.
Especially after last night.
Instead, I inhale deeply, letting the faint scent of vanilla and something softer, something sweeter, something uniquely Genevieve, wrap around me like a memory I don’t want to wake from. I reach across the bed, seeking warmth. Seeking her.
But I find nothing.
Cold sheets.
An empty space.
I glance at the clock, seeing it’s after eight. She’s probably already getting ready for work, like any other weekday.
Except today isn’t like any other day.
I felt it last night. In the way she held on to me. In the way she let go.
Almost like she was letting go of me.
Of us.
Dragging a hand down my face, I shove away the unease curling in my stomach and pull on my t-shirt and shorts before heading to the kitchen. When I reach the doorway, I stop.
Genevieve’s sitting at the island, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. She’s staring at something on the counter, her expression guarded, shoulders drawn tight.
At first, I can’t tell what it is. But when I get closer, there’s no mistaking it.
Even though I had a feeling this was the case, seeing the proof is still like a punch to the gut, my breath rushing from my lungs.
“Are you?” My voice comes out rough, not sounding like my own.
She lifts her gaze to me and swallows hard. Then she gives a small nod.
“I am.”
I move without thinking, lifting her off the chair and into my arms. Regardless of what this means for us, emotion surges through me, raw and consuming. Pride. Wonder. Something so visceral I can’t quite put a name on it.
She’s carrying my child.
When we first made this arrangement, I told myself it wouldn’t be a big deal. I had no plans to settle down, no burning desire to be a father. I was more than happy to give Genevieve what she wanted, to be the friend who helped her fulfill her dream.
That was before.
Before months of learning how she moves, how she tastes, how she feels.
Before falling asleep next to her every night.
Before realizing I want things I never thought I would.
And I want them with the one woman I’m not supposed to.
“I’m so happy for you,” I murmur into her hair.
It’s the truth. I’m beyond happy she’s fulfilling this life-long dream.
But I’m also terrified.
Because I know what this is supposed to mean.
I just don’t know if I can go back to the way things were.
If I can just forget about her.
If I can pretend these past few months didn’t mean everything to me.
I hold her for as long as she lets me, dreading the moment she pulls away.
Because when she does, I might lose her completely.
And that thought? That possibility?
It’s unbearable.
“I have to get to work.” Genevieve presses against my chest after only a few seconds, gently pushing me back. I can practically see the wall she’s already rebuilding brick by heavy brick.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“Thanks.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile, then grabs her bag, leading the way outside.
When we reach her car, I open the door for her, but before she can climb in, I ask, “What’s next?”
She faces me, adjusting the strap of her bag. “I have an appointment at the end of next week to confirm the pregnancy, but considering nearly a dozen tests were positive, I’d say it’s just a formality.”
“I’ll go with you,” I offer before I can stop myself.
“You don’t have to,” she responds with a harsh shake of her head.
“I know I don’t have to.” I step closer, lowering my voice. “I want to.”
“Finn…” I hear the warning in her tone, but there’s something raw beneath it. Something uncertain. “We had an agreement. You don’t have any responsibilities to me. To either of us.”
I open my mouth, ready to tell her I want more than that. That I want this to be something more than just an agreement. That I won’t be happy watching her raise our child without being a part of his or her life. That I want everything. And I want it with her.
“Red light,” she says before I can utter a syllable.
Her voice is barely a whisper, but it slams into me with the force of a goddamn wrecking ball.
“What?”
“I don’t want you to say what I know you’re going to. I can’t give you what you’re about to ask for.”
I clench my jaw. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do.” She smiles sadly, her eyes glossing over. “I told you from the beginning. I want a child without needing to depend on someone else to raise them with me. Without having to worry about my child being abandoned.”
“I’d never do that to you, Genevieve.” My voice is determined, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I want?—”
She holds up her hand, cutting me off. “That hasn’t changed.” She tries to sound firm, but her voice wobbles at the end. Then she wraps her arms around me, and I do what I always do. I hug her back. “Thank you for always being such an amazing friend.”
Hearing her call me a friend cuts harder than I knew a single syllable could. My chest feels tight, like there’s a vice around it, squeezing the air from me.
“And for giving me the greatest gift anyone could.” She allows me to hold her for several more seconds before pulling back and releasing me. “Now, more than ever, I need my best friend. Like we agreed. Like you promised.”
I stare at her, my throat burning, my hands clenching into fists.
There’s so much I want to say. But will it make any difference? I know better than most how Genevieve is. Know why she feels like she needs to do this alone.
So instead of telling her those three words I’ve kept to myself, I force myself to give her space before I lose her forever.
“Drive safe,” I say, my voice hollow.
She hesitates, like she wants to say something else.
Then she climbs into her car and drives away.
Taking my heart with her.