Chapter 34
Kallie
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The last two customers shuffled through Kallie's checkout line with the slow, tired energy of people who'd worked too many hours and had too little left to give.
She scanned their items automatically, offering polite smiles, nodding along to their small talk, pretending she wasn't counting the seconds until she could leave.
Her heart had been racing since seven o'clock that morning, ticking off the hours like a metronome.
Eight hours. Eight long hours away from her apartment.
When the final customer pushed their cart away, she exhaled in relief and closed out her register. The drawer slid shut with a soft click, and she handed the envelope to her manager. Then she exchanged places with Pauline.
"Goodnight, Kallie." Pauline scanned her badge and logged in to the register.
"You, too." She rounded the counter. "I need to grab a couple of things before I leave."
She hurried down Aisle 4, past the cereal and canned soup, until she reached the frozen food section. The cold air spilled out as she opened the glass door, fogging the edges. She grabbed a tub of vanilla ice cream and a bottle of chocolate syrup from the shelf on the other side of the aisle.
A treat.
A ritual lately.
A reward for surviving the day.
She paid quickly and stepped out of the store. The cool evening air hit her cheeks, and she breathed it in like she'd been underwater all day. The walk home was only two blocks, but she practically jogged it, her bag bumping against her hip, her pulse thudding in her ears.
When she reached her apartment, she slowed at the sight of Amy sitting on the front step, tying her shoe. Amy looked up immediately, her ponytail bouncing as she straightened.
"Hey, Kal!" she called. "I was just about to head to the gym. You wanna come?"
Kallie forced a smile, shifting the grocery bag behind her leg. "Oh, um... not tonight. I'm really tired."
Amy narrowed her eyes. "You're always tired. You work, you come home, you hide inside. You need to have some fun in your life, girl. You're not getting any younger."
Kallie laughed weakly, inching toward the door. "I know, I know. Rain check?"
Amy sighed dramatically. "Fine. But one of these days, I'm dragging you out whether you like it or not."
"Deal," Kallie said, even though they both knew she didn't mean it.
They'd had the same conversation more times than she could count. She'd come to realize that no matter where she lived, routines were important to most people.
She unlocked the apartment door with a shaky hand and slipped inside, shutting it quickly behind her. The moment the latch clicked, she sighed in relief. Her heart pounded so hard she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady it.
Eight long hours.
She set the grocery bag on the counter, leaving the ice cream out to soften. Her eyes were already drifting toward the living room at the back of the apartment.
Her stomach fluttered in anticipation.
And there he was.
Finn.
Sitting on her couch like he'd always belonged there, his long legs stretched out, his arm draped over the backrest, his eyes lifting to meet hers the second she stepped into the room. The soft lamplight brushed over him, highlighting the strands of gray hair that seemed to sprout overnight.
Time stood still in Everstill, but not here. Not in her world.
He pulled on his beard, his gaze softening. He looked happy. Warm. Alive.
She'd walked away from Everstill and returned to her life three months ago without missing a day of work.
No one even questioned her absence because time had stood still until she returned.
But unlike Everstill, each day here was different and memorable.
Finn could keep track of time. He aged. And everything fascinated him.
Her breath caught. She would never get tired of looking at him. Each day, her heart fell in love all over again.
Every time she saw him in her world, in her space, she was reminded of the miracle of getting him here. Like she'd been given something she never should've had. Something she still didn't fully understand.
But she no longer questioned how it had happened. The day she left Everstill, Finn held on, fought, and survived. He was right. If she had known the risks before leaving Everstill, they would both be back there, living each day. She would never risk his life.
But he'd risked more than himself for her.
She crossed the room in three quick steps and sank onto the couch beside him, her hand finding his without hesitation. His fingers curled around hers, instantly claiming her, as if he'd been waiting for her all day, too.
"Hi," she whispered.
Finn smiled. That gentle smile that melted her from the inside out.
"Hi," he murmured back.
And just like that, the world outside faded. The grocery store. The customers. Amy's teasing. The long hours. The ache in her chest she carried everywhere she went.
None of it mattered.
Because Finn was here. On her couch. In her life. In her world. And she loved him fiercely, completely, endlessly.
His presence filled the room and made wherever she was a home for them. Kallie curled her legs beneath her and leaned into him, letting her shoulder brush his arm. The simple contact sent a warm rush through her chest, easing the tension she'd carried since her shift started.
Being away from him was the hardest thing. When they first arrived, she would go to work, and Finn would leave the apartment. She worried about him. His job in Everstill was to wander. She was afraid he'd find the road to go back.
As much as she wanted to trust he'd stay with her, the first few weeks were hard on him. Everything was different. Time hadn't slowed for him. He wasn't used to cell phones, Ubers, deliveries, or the internet.
He shifted just enough to make space for her, his arm sliding behind her shoulders. She melted into him, her head finding the familiar spot beneath his jaw. Inhaling the warm, clean scent that was unmistakably Finn, she wrapped her arms around him.
"You okay?" he murmured.
She nodded against him. "I am now."
His fingers brushed her upper arm in slow, absent strokes, each one sending a quiet shiver down her spine. It wasn't an intentional seduction. Finn simply touched her because he wanted to, because he could, because she was here.
She tilted her face up to look at him. The lamplight caught the ridge of his straight nose, the softness in his eyes, and the slight pout of his bottom lip beneath his beard.
"What are you thinking?" she whispered.
He shook his head slightly, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Just missed you."
Her heart flipped. "It was only eight hours."
"Too long," he said simply.
"I know." She laughed softly, the sound muffled as she tucked herself closer.
His hand slid into her hair, his fingertips tracing the back of her neck in slow, soothing circles.
She felt her whole body relax, sinking deeper into the couch, into him.
This was her favorite part of the day. The rush to come home and then be met with the quiet, the closeness, and Finn holding her.
He squeezed gently, then lifted their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. For the rest of her life, she would crave the feel of his hand holding hers.
That strength. That bond. That promise was what got them out of Everstill alive.
He never let go of her. He never abandoned her. He stayed and fought and won.
A new silver bracelet circled his wrist. The old thread bracelet never made it through the veil. The loss upset Finn more than he cared to admit. She bought him another bracelet, one he wouldn't have to worry about losing, breaking, or wearing out.
She touched her necklace. That day, she'd also bought a locket that held Finn's hair, the hair she'd snipped so many years ago.
"I thought about you all day," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Finn's gaze softened. "Yeah?"
"You know I do." She brushed her thumb over the back of his hand. "I bought ice cream."
His lips curved. "Want to skip dinner and go straight to dessert?"
"Absolutely." She grinned.
According to Finn, Everstill never had ice cream. There weren't any in the store or the restaurant. But when she brought a carton home from work to share with him, he remembered having the treat as a child, and it sparked a core memory.
A childhood that had begun to return in small doses. An abusive dad. A brother killed in a street war. Refuge came in the form of joining a motorcycle club.
She was thankful the memories came slowly. What he'd shared was not easy to accept. She hated that he had to relive his past.
If there was one good thing about Everstill, it was that the place protected him from the hurt he'd endured.
Not that he hadn't done his share of hurting others. He'd killed a man and served time for the crime. He never made excuses for the choices he'd made.
When she thought about it, it seemed like another lifetime. With her, he'd always been her protector.
Kallie lifted her hand to his cheek. "Tell me what you've done today while I dish up the ice cream," she whispered.
Finn's eyes darkened. "Kiss me first."
She curled her fingers into his shirt and pulled herself in, brushing her lips against his mouth. He cupped the back of her neck and teased her lips open. She sighed the moment his tongue caressed hers.
When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, breathing him in. This was her life now.
"I'll get the ice cream." She kissed him once more.
She washed her hands and scooped vanilla ice cream into two bowls, humming under her breath as she worked. The apartment was quiet. The soft glow of the kitchen light cast a cozy halo over the counter. The evenings were her favorite time of day, when she could relax and her worries fled.
She drizzled chocolate syrup over the top, smiling to herself as she added more to Finn's bowl. "So, what did you do today?"
"I used the laptop."
She froze mid-pour, syrup pooling in one spot. She turned slowly, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"
He nodded from the couch, his expression unreadable. "Yeah."
That surprised her. She'd shown him how to do simple online searches—how to look up recipes, check the weather, and find funny videos—but he'd never shown much interest.
"Did you find anything interesting?" she asked lightly, turning back to the counter.
There was a pause. A long one.
"I found newspaper articles from Seattle, Washington, about the crime that sent me to prison," he said.
The spoon slipped from her fingers and clattered against the counter, splattering ice cream across her wrist. She kept her back to him, trying to breathe.
Slowly, she turned toward him.
He was standing now, moving toward the kitchen. His gaze intensified with a heaviness she hadn't seen since Everstill.
"Honey..." she whispered.
At least they knew he was from the real world and not another dimension.
He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel his warmth and see the tension in his shoulders.
"Going by the dates and the sixteen years I served in prison," he said in a low voice, "I was in Everstill for thirty years."
Her mouth fell open. "Thirty—shit."
He nodded once.
She stared at him, stunned. "But you didn't age in there."
Finn's gaze held hers. "No, I didn't."
The kitchen felt cramped. The hum of the refrigerator filled the silence between them, a mundane sound that felt painfully out of place against the weight of what he'd told her.
Thirty years.
He had been trapped in that place for thirty years. It was beyond understanding.
He looked exactly the same as the day she'd first met him, except for the sprinkling of gray hair he'd grown since escaping Everstill. How was that even possible?
Kallie's heart pounded. She tried to do the math, but her mind went blank.
"How old were you when you went to prison?" she whispered.
He cleared his throat. "Twenty-eight."
She reached for him instinctively. Twenty-eight when he entered prison, a sixteen-year sentence, and thirty years in Everstill. That made him seventy-four.
"Finn," she whispered again, her voice trembling. "How is that even possible?"
The man standing in front of her wasn't that old. If she had to guess, Finn would be in his early forties. He hadn't aged at all since she first met him when she was ten, and yes, that was weird, but as a child she didn't gauge someone's age. He was always Finn to her. He was older.
But seventy-four?
"I don't know." He pulled her to his chest.
His heart pounded against her cheek. He didn't have to tell her anything else. Deep down, she already knew.
Everstill had taken his freedom. Suspended him in time for thirty years.
And yet, somehow, he had regained the time he'd lost.