Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FINN
The beer in front of me is warm. Has been for a while.
I should drink it. Should at least pretend I came here to unwind instead of sitting at the bar like some brooding asshole, staring at the amber liquid while my brain runs in circles.
But I can’t.
All I can think about is Genevieve. The way she looked at me this morning, like she was bracing for impact. Like I was something she had to defend herself against. Like she was shutting the door before I even had a chance to walk through it.
That look gutted me, sent a slow, creeping ache through my chest that hasn’t eased since. I’ve been trying to shake it, but hell if I know how. Instead, I pick up the glass and take a long swallow.
It doesn’t dull the fact that, this morning, the woman I love told me, without saying the words, she doesn’t want me.
The brewery is quiet this afternoon, a few regulars scattered across the tables while Jude moves in and out of the back, tending to the tanks.
Dylan’s behind the bar, wiping down a stack of pint glasses, her sharp eyes cutting to me every few minutes. She’s been watching me since I sat down, and I know her well enough to sense she’s about to say something.
I’m right.
“You look like someone ran over your dog,” she finally remarks, setting the last glass on the rack.
I huff a quiet laugh and shake my head. “Duke’s just fine.”
“But are you?” She leans toward me, dropping her voice. “Does this have something to do with Genevieve?”
I push out a long breath before meeting her gaze. “She’s pregnant.”
It’s the first time I’ve said those words out loud.
Genevieve’s pregnant.
The knowledge hits differently now.
Before, her pregnancy was an abstract thing. A decision born of logic. She wanted a baby, and I wanted to be the one to give her one. In my mind, it wasn’t my baby.
But now?
Everything’s changed.
It’s not just her baby growing inside of her.
It’s my child. A life we created together.
The realization wraps around my ribs like a steel vice. I should be happy. Thrilled. But all I feel is this gaping, hollow ache.
“How do you feel about this news?”
“Does it matter? I’m not supposed to care. I promised I wouldn’t.”
“But you do.”
I draw in a slow breath and admit, “I do.”
There are no teasing remarks. No boastful “I told you so.” She just looks at me with genuine concern.
“Have you told her how you feel?”
“Not…exactly.”
“Then why are you sitting here? Go tell her.”
I take a large gulp of my beer. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because she doesn’t want me to.”
“Wait. What? That doesn’t make any sense.”
I glance away, flexing my fingers against the smooth wood of the bar. “I started to tell her this morning, but she stopped me before I could even get the words out. Told me she could never give me what I was about to ask her.”
Dylan doesn’t answer right away, and when I finally look back at her, she’s studying me, her gaze sharper than before.
“Let me get this straight…” She plants her hands on the bar. “You were about to tell her how you feel, and she shut you down?”
I nod.
“And you just walked away with your tail between your legs?”
“What else was I supposed to do?”
Dylan exhales through her nose, shaking her head like I’m a lost cause. “God, men are idiots.”
“Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.” I take another long sip of my beer.
“Look, I get it. You and Genevieve have a history, and you’re scared if you push too hard, she’ll shut you out. That if you put it all out there and she doesn’t feel the same way, you’ll lose her altogether.”
The words hit like a direct strike to my ribs. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. What I’ve been afraid of since I realized I’m in love with her.
“Let me ask you this,” Dylan continues, her tone softer now. “Do you really think you can just go back to being friends? Be Uncle Finn to her kid? To your kid? Pretend this never happened?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Because I don’t know.
I don’t know how to be in Genevieve’s life without wanting more.
Without wanting everything.
Dylan watches me struggle, then shakes her head. “You can’t, Finn. You’ll be fooling yourselves. That will only make the inevitable worse when it finally blows up.”
Something cracks open in my chest. Because deep down, I know she’s right. Genevieve and I crossed that line and, despite our promise to each other, there’s no way to go back. Not anymore. Not after everything we’ve shared.
“Do yourself a favor.” Dylan straightens, pinning me with a look. “Tell her how you feel. To hell with whether it makes her uncomfortable. In fact, maybe that’s what she needs so she’ll finally admit her feelings for you. To be uncomfortable.”
The idea of pushing Genevieve and losing her as a friend makes my stomach twist.
But haven’t I already lost her? What do I have to lose by saying what I need to say? What I deserve to say. To hell with whether she wants to hear it.
I deserve the chance to tell her. Because if I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my damn life. If losing my father taught me anything, it’s to live life with no regrets. I’ve done precisely that since he died. I’m not about to stop now.