Chapter Thirty-Two #2
I opened my mouth to say… something, though I wasn’t sure what. But Finn beat me to the punch.
“I wasn’t your boyfriend,” he said — calmly, no bite in his tone whatsoever. “You know that, whether or not the production crew chose to show it or not.”
And they hadn’t.
When the last few episodes had aired, I’d been physically ill. They’d edited out all the footage of Finn breaking up with Gisella, Finn telling me he’d broken up with Gisella, and of course, the final dinner with the crew when everything hit the fan.
Instead, they’d chopped it up to look like we left when Captain Gary did. They then showed a few clips of the crew taking shots and cheersing their drinks and laughing it up that I knew was filmed before dinner.
It didn’t make sense to me. If anything, I thought the whole story made for better TV. But I guessed the production team had their story mapped out, and our truth was too innocent for their liking.
There were murmurs from the crowd at Finn’s words, but Graham didn’t play into them.
He pointed the attention right back at us.
“You were both fan favorites early on. But by mid-season, the narrative shifted. Viewers were shocked. Hurt. Some called it betrayal. Others, true love. How did it feel watching it back?”
Finn’s jaw tightened along with his grip on me. “Hard.”
That one word carried so much weight.
“We knew we’d face backlash,” I added. “But we didn’t know how far the producers would go to make us the villains.”
“Make you,” Gisella spat. “I’m pretty sure you did that yourselves.”
I noted the way Palmer’s nostrils flared and he shook his head, and I wondered if he’d been told to keep his mouth shut about it all.
Bernard, on the other hand, was grinning like the Cheshire cat, watching me like he knew something I didn’t.
That scared me more than Gisella.
“I think we knew going into it that it wouldn’t be pretty, but we hoped there would be more truth than what there was.
Still, we watched every episode together,” Finn continued, voice steady as he dutifully ignored Gisella.
“And we talked through it all. Laughed at the edits, cringed at some things, sure. But we never let it change how we saw each other.”
“Did you ever consider breaking up?”
“Not for a second,” Finn said instantly. “We already wasted too much time apart because we were young and stubborn, full of pride.” He looked at me then. “Once we made our way back to each other?” A shrug. “There was no tearing us apart, no matter how the world has tried to.”
Graham tried to drive the wedge deeper. “Finn, do you regret it? What happened with Gisella, the crew tension, the fallout?”
“I regret hurting people,” he said, and then his eyes found mine. “But I’ll never regret loving her.”
The room fell quiet, the audience was waiting for the big, dramatic moment while Graham tried to create it. But we weren’t biting.
Then, Graham shocked us all when he said, “Well, that’s very sweet. But it’s quite a shortened version of the speech you gave that last dinner out with the crew, isn’t it?”
The crowd began to murmur. Gisella’s eyes popped wide. Cameron and Eli shared a look of annoyance while Palmer looked a bit smug holding back a grin.
“Let’s roll that footage!” Graham declared with a smile.
And they did.
Finally, after months of hell, the truth played out on a screen in the studio and on televisions all over the world.
Emotion surged in my chest as I watched it play out, as I watched everyone react to it in real time.
Gisella was throwing a fit, threatening to leave if they didn’t stop playing it.
When the part played where Palmer called her out for her infidelity, she stormed off stage.
The room was buzzing when the clip stopped, and Graham cocked a brow at me, as if to say, See? I’m not so bad.
I still didn’t trust him.
“Bernard,” he said, whipping his head toward my stew. “Care to tell us the dirty details about that night?”
Bernard looked like a kid in a candy store as he regaled the crowd with his version of it all. I mostly blocked it out, ready to be done and out of here. More questions were tossed around to the rest of the crew while I stayed silent except to answer with brief statements when necessary.
When we were nearing the end of the show, Graham went around and asked everyone if there was anything they wished to say.
I used my time to apologize to Eli as sincerely as I could.
I told him I didn’t expect nor deserve his forgiveness, but I wanted him to know I was sorry for leading him on and using him as a pawn in a game he didn’t sign up to play.
I’d expected him to tell me to go fuck myself, but he’d surprised me with an, “Ag, don’t fret, Em.
It’s all good.” And then he’d hugged me to the crowd cheering, and a piece of my broken heart was mended.
Palmer told his side of the whole Gisella situation. Cameron expressed his regrets with Leah. Captain Gary kept it professional, saying that he was still proud of us as a crew despite the drama.
When it came to Leah, I was surprised to find her already crying, sniffling as she dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a tissue. Her eyes slammed into mine, and she cried harder.
“I’m so sorry for how harshly I judged you, Em,” she said, shaking her head.
“I was hurt, but not just by you. I was… I wasn’t myself.
And I just wished you’d have told me, but I understand now why that might have been hard to do.
And you would have told me, had things not gone down the way they did. ”
“I would have told you that morning, I swear,” I told her.
“I know,” she nodded. “I know. I’m sorry I was such a BLEEP.”
“I deserved it.”
“No,” she said, standing and shaking her head. “You didn’t. You didn’t deserve any of it. Can I have a hug?”
I met her in the middle of the stage, squeezing her tight as the crowd aww’d. I whispered a promise to her that we’d catch up soon, and she nodded, squeezing my arm before she went back to her seat.
Then, it was Finn’s turn.
And the surprises kept coming.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d announce this here,” he said, standing and slipping one hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. It was the first time he’d released the grip on my hand all night. “But it feels right.”
He pulled out a glossy photo and handed it to me first, his eyes locked on mine. The moment our fingers brushed, my pulse kicked up, time slowing around the two of us. The photo felt heavier than paper should — like it was weighted with meaning I hadn’t yet uncovered.
“What is it?” I asked, even as I stared down at the image.
It looked like a print from a real estate listing — a small storefront tucked between a Pilates studio and a bakery. The windows were covered in newspaper, but there was something charming about the white brick and abandoned flower beds framing the door.
“It’s my new restaurant,” Finn said.
I blinked up at him, heart thudding as Graham motioned for me to pass the photo down the line.
And then Finn had my hand in his again, his eyes searching mine.
“I thought the first one was it for me,” he said, voice steady but full of emotion.
“I built it in Dublin with everything I had. But the truth is… I wasn’t ready.
Not the way I thought I was. And maybe that failure wasn’t the end of my dream — maybe it was the beginning of something better.
I think we both know now that the universe had other plans. ”
His lips quirked up, and my eyes watered, my heart so full I could burst.
“I think maybe my Gran knew I couldn’t do it without you.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to cry as the audience collectively melted.
“This time, I’ve got the right people. The right investors. The right team. A new menu I’m already testing with my future staff. A fresh start — in South Florida, where I can be with you.” He smiled. “And a name.”
I expected Graham to make a joke, but he was quiet, all attention on Finn.
“It’s called Pygo,” he said. “Short for pygolampída.”
I quirked a brow. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“It’s Greek,” Finn said. “For firefly.”
That was it.
Whatever emotional dam was holding me together broke in an instant. Greece — the place we met, the place we fell in love, the place he called me Firefly for the first time.
“This is too much,” I whispered, breath catching on a laugh as my thumb brushed his knuckles. “Are you sure about the name?”
“I’ve never felt surer of anything in me life,” he said, voice thick now.
“About who I am. About what I’m doing. And I know it’s because I have you by my side.
I want you to keep chasing what lights you up, Ember.
So I’m making me home in Fort Lauderdale, because that’s where you shine.
This way, you don’t have to give up anything.
And I don’t have to do this without you. ”
I couldn’t see him through the tears bubbling in my eyes now. My heart was a mess. I was smiling so big my cheeks hurt.
“Well,” I said, voice shaky but sure, “speaking of chasing dreams…”
It was Finn’s turn to cock a brow.
“I’ve accepted a new position,” I said. “Chief stew on a private yacht for a family.”
His mouth parted. “You’re kidding.”
“I was going to tell you right after this,” I said on a laugh. “It’s an interior twice the size of the Sinking Sun. Full creative control. A path to purser, if I want it.”
Gasps and applause rippled through the room, but I barely heard it. All I could see was the way Finn looked at me.
Like he’d known I could do it all along.
“So,” I said, teasing, “we’re both out here living our dreams, huh?”
He reached for me, cupping my cheek, and pulled me in for a kiss. “Life is a dream with you.”
The crowd lost it.
Even Graham laughed. “Okay, okay, you two — get a room.”
Everyone chuckled as the cameras panned out, Graham delivering his final address and telling everyone to tune in for bonus content on the website. Crew members were already beginning their wrap-up shuffle, the show winding down.
But I stayed there with Finn, heart pounding, his arm around my shoulder, the weight of everything we’d survived finally lifting.
And though I was bursting with excitement for my new job, I found that pesky thought swirling in my head again…
What would it be like to run a restaurant with Finn?
Not just as the girlfriend of the chef, but as a partner. To design the service, the experience. To run dinner every night beside him. To create something together, something that felt like us.
My stomach fluttered, those same butterflies I’d felt when we first locked eyes on that hot, impossible day in Greece tickling my belly with their wings.
And just like that, I knew the answer.