Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
GENEVIEVE
My hands tremble as I shove through the hospital doors, my breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The waiting room is a blur of sterile white walls, flickering fluorescent lights, and murmuring voices, but I don’t register any of it.
I don’t see faces.
I don’t hear the noise.
All I can think about is Finn.
I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.
I was on my way to the station, finally ready to tell him the truth. To admit I don’t want to go through this alone. That I want him in my life. Not just as my best friend. Not just as the father of my child. As mine.
But before I could get there, my phone rang. When I saw Murphy’s name on the caller ID, I knew something was wrong. I was right.
A fire.
A child rescued.
Finn in the hospital.
I don’t even remember the drive here. Just the suffocating panic. The cold sweat clinging to my skin. The absolute certainty that if I lose Finn, there wouldn’t be enough air in the world to keep me breathing.
I rush to the front desk, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Excuse me,” I rasp to the nurse, barely recognizing my own voice. “Finnegan Lawrence. Where is he?”
She barely looks up from her computer. “Are you family?”
I hesitate, my breath hitching.
I don’t have the title that gives me automatic access. I’m not his wife. Not his girlfriend.
But I’m carrying his child. And in every way that counts, he’s mine.
“He’s the father of my baby,” I choke out. “Please. I need to see him.”
She finally looks up, her expression softening, but not enough. “I’m sorry. I can’t release patient information unless you’re immediate family.”
The words are a punch to the gut. I clutch the edge of the counter, frustration clawing up my throat like acid. “Please, I just?—”
“Genevieve?”
The deep, familiar voice cuts through my panic. I whirl around, and relief crashes through me.
Finn’s oldest brother stands a few feet away, his white coat slightly wrinkled over navy scrubs, his hospital badge clipped to the pocket. His sharp gaze takes me in — my frantic eyes, the way I’m practically vibrating with anxiety, the tears streaming down my cheeks.
I don’t even care whether he overheard me say I’m carrying Finn’s child. That’s the least of my worries right now.
“She’s with me,” Hayden tells the nurse, his voice firm. Then he refocuses his attention on me, his tone softer. “Come on, Gen.”
I follow him out of the waiting area and down the maze of hallways, a thousand thoughts fighting for attention.
“He’s okay,” Hayden assures me almost immediately, as if he senses I’m barely hanging on. “Stable. Took in some smoke, but his vitals are good. His leg is broken from when the stairs collapsed, and he has a mild concussion. But all things considered, he’s lucky that’s the worst of it.”
“The stairs collapsed?” My voice wavers.
Hayden nods. “From what Murphy shared, they went in to rescue a little girl stuck in the house. On the way out, the stairs gave way. Finn managed to hand her off to Murphy. While he waited for his own rescue, the ceiling started to weaken. But Murphy and one of the other guys were able to free him just before the entire roof caved in.”
“Is he awake?” I ask.
“He sure is. He’s in a bit of pain, but he lives to fight another day.” Hayden gives me a reassuring smile as we stop in front of a private room. He’s about to open the door, but hesitates, narrowing his gaze on me. “What you said to the nurse before… Is it true?”
I stare at him for several protracted seconds, unsure what to say. Up until this point, I didn’t want to think of Finn as the father of my child. This was supposed to be my baby.
But after seeing my father, after seeing what taking the easy way gets you, I don’t want that anymore. I want people to know I’m carrying Finn’s baby, regardless of whether he still wants me or not.
“It is.”
Something flickers across Hayden’s face before the corners of his mouth lift. A rare, genuine smile. Then he does something I don’t expect. He wraps me in a hug.
“Congratulations,” he murmurs.
I squeeze my eyes shut, emotion swelling in my chest.
When he pulls back, his hand settles on my shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I do know this. Finn is one of the best people I know. And he’ll be an amazing father.”
“I know he will be.”
He gives my shoulder a squeeze, then turns from me, heading down the hallway to check on yet another one of his patients.
I face the door once more, and take a deep breath before pushing it open.
It doesn’t matter that Hayden told me what happened. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of my best friend propped up in the hospital bed, his face streaked with soot, a bandage wrapped around his forearm. His leg is in a brace and bruises dot his arms.
But he’s alive. He’s here.
I didn’t lose him without telling him how I really feel.
His head turns at the sound of the door, and when our eyes meet, something shifts in his expression. Almost like relief.
“Genevieve,” he exhales, shifting like he wants to sit up straighter, but I’m at his side before he can try. “I’m so sorry.” He reaches for my face, swiping away my tears. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I choke out a relieved sob. This is typical Finn. Always apologizing for things that aren’t his fault. Always putting everyone else before himself.
It only solidifies what I’ve always known.
He’s the only man for me.
“I thought I was doing what was right,” I blurt out, my voice unsteady. “Keeping my distance. Pushing you away. I thought it was the safe thing. The easy thing. If I didn’t let myself need you, if I didn’t let myself love you, I couldn’t lose you, but I was wrong.”
“You were?”
I nod, not looking away from his eyes. “I wasn’t protecting myself. I was hiding. I convinced myself that being alone was safer. That if I never let anyone too close, I’d never have to feel the kind of pain that rips you apart.” I shake my head, exhaling sharply. “But that’s exactly what I’ve felt since I let you go, Finn. This pain… It’s the most excruciating thing I’ve ever experienced. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t want easy anymore. I want real. And what I feel for you…” My voice wavers. “It’s the most real thing I’ve ever known.”
His chest rises and falls, his fingers squeezing mine like they’re the only thing keeping him tethered.
“And how do you?—”
“I love you,” I whisper before he can finish.
His whole body stills.
The seconds stretch between us, heavy and charged, until he finally breathes, “Genevieve…”
“I think I’ve loved you for years,” I admit, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “But I was too scared to admit it. Too scared to lose you. You’ve been my constant. My home. The one person who never gave up on me, even when I pushed you away. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to waste another second convincing myself I don’t need you, when the truth is, I need you like I need air.”
His jaw clenches, his eyes flashing with something raw and unguarded.
“And I’m not just saying all of this because you could have died today. In fact, I was on my way to the station to tell you all of this when Murphy called me.”
“You were?”
I nod. “I don’t want to raise this baby alone. I want you in our child’s life as his or her father. Not out of obligation. But because I want this with you, Finn. I want us.”
His breath shudders out. “You want us?”
“More than anything.”
For a moment, all I hear is the beeping of the monitors, the distant hum of hospital noise. Then he reaches for my face, his fingers threading into my hair, pulling me closer until our foreheads brush.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I want us.”
He shakes his head. “Not that.”
I don’t need to ask what he means.
“I love you,” I breathe.
A quiet, almost broken sound leaves his throat.
“It’s about damn time,” he rasps.
Then his lips crash against mine.
It’s not tentative. It’s not careful.
It’s years of longing. Of missed chances. Of words left unspoken.
It’s an apology and a promise. A declaration and a vow.
I melt into him, my hands gripping his hospital gown, holding on like I never want to let go.
And I won’t have to.
Because Finn has proven time and again he’ll never give up on me. That he’ll never abandon me.
And that’s enough for me.