Chapter 43
When in doubt, Google his therapist
Alex
I woke before Finn, the early mountain light filtering through the curtains casting everything in soft gold. He was still deeply asleep, his breathing steady, and his face relaxed against the pillow. I pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, careful not to wake him.
“Getting breakfast,” I whispered against his hair. “Stay in bed.”
He made a small sound of acknowledgment, already drifting back under.
The restaurant was mid-breakfast service when I arrived, the smell of coffee and fresh pastries making my stomach growl.
I got Finn’s coffee, black and hot the way he liked it, and my own cold brew before grabbing a couple of breakfast sandwiches and heading back toward our room.
Maggie found me on my return and trotted next to me, waiting patiently when I opened the door until I told her she could come in.
Finn was on the phone when I returned, his voice low and measured as he spoke while he paced around the room.
He looked up when we entered, and I set breakfast on the dresser before turning to leave and give him privacy.
He reached out, catching my wrist gently and tugging me closer.
His fingers wrapped around mine as he continued talking.
“Yeah, she just got back. Hold on.” He pulled his phone from his ear and held it out to me. “Dom wants to talk to you.”
I accepted the phone as Finn pressed a quick kiss to my temple and headed toward the bathroom.
“Hey, Dom,” I grabbed my coffee and a throw blanket as the shower turned on, moving to the balcony with Maggie on my heels.
“How are you holding up?” Dom asked, his voice softer than usual. I settled into one of the chairs with the blanket, leaving my coffee on the side table. Maggie rested her chin on my knee, and I sank my fingers into her soft curls.
“Well, I successfully navigated breakfast service without burning down the lodge, so clearly I’m crushing it.”
Dom was quiet for a beat too long.
“Was it this bad?” The question came out sharper than I meant it to. “In the hospital, when you were with him. Did he…” I felt Maggie press closer against my leg and scratched behind her ear, taking a deep breath. “I need to know if this is normal. If this is just how it goes.”
“Yeah,” his voice went rough. “And sometimes it was worse. There were days he didn’t know who I was. Days he’d swing at nurses who were trying to help him, days his hands shook so badly I had to hold the water cup for him.”
He continued, “I lived in that damn hospital for months watching him fight just to stay alive and present, and some days I wasn’t sure he was going to make it.”
“So this is just…” I stopped, watching a family head toward the stables. “This is part of recovery?”
“This is different, but it’s the same fight. His body remembering how to panic,” Dom’s voice cracked slightly. “This latest doesn’t erase all the progress. It just means his brain’s still healing.”
“It felt like losing him,” My throat tightened around the words. “Like watching him disappear into something where I couldn’t reach.”
“I spent four months watching that exact thing happen. Some days he’d be there, almost himself, and then something would set him off and he’d just... vanish into whatever hell he was reliving. First few times I damn near lost my mind trying to pull him back.”
“And he came back?” Maggie laid down at my feet as I pulled at the blanket, my fingers finding the edge to worry at. I heard the shower shut off behind me.
“Every time. Sometimes it took hours, sometimes days, but he always fought his way back to us.” A pause. “This isn’t him getting worse, Alex. It’s just... I wish there was a straight line between broken and healed, but that’s not how any of this works.”
I blinked hard, the ranch below blurring until I forced myself to focus.
“You still there?” Dom asked quietly.
“Yeah. Just thinking,” I took a sip of coffee, the bitter sweetness sharp on my tongue.
“I found out about the testosterone injections yesterday. From your dad, of all people. When Finn brought me lunch to the office, Nolan just casually asked if he was ready for his injection, right there in front of me, like it was no big deal. We didn’t even talk about it until last night after dinner. ”
“Shit,” Dom’s exhale was slow and heavy. “He hadn’t told you?”
“Weeks of injections and I had no idea. Just another thing he decided I didn’t need to know about. Claiming it was because he was afraid I’d leave.”
“That idiot,” Dom’s voice was full of frustration. “I told him after the whole fertility thing that he needed to stop protecting you from everything.”
“He said he didn’t want me to see him as broken,” I murmured.
“That sounds like Finn. Even when he was barely conscious in those first weeks, he’d try to wave off the nurses when I was in the room.
Once he was really awake, he spent weeks trying to hide how much pain he was in.
Wouldn’t let me help with basic stuff because he didn’t want me to see him like that. ”
“So he’s always been like this?”
“Pretty much since we were kids. But here’s the thing…
he eventually figured out that me knowing the truth didn’t change how I felt about him.
He’s just slower to learn that lesson than most people.
” Dom’s voice softened. “He told me what you said about trusting you or not. You were right to call him out on it.”
“Yeah, well…” I felt my cheeks warm.
“It’s good. He needs that.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Look, I’ve known you for what, four years now? And I’ve watched you two together, really together, for months. Do you know what Finn was like when you first started your ruse?”
I pulled the blanket higher. “What?”
“He talked about you constantly. I’d catch snippets of your phone calls, hear him laughing at something you texted. Saw the way his whole face changed when any of us mentioned you. Enzo and I used to joke that we’d lost him to Salt Lake before he even realized it himself.”
Something twisted in my chest.
“He was already gone on you, Alex. Way before either of you figured out what was happening.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted quietly. “With any of this.”
“Who does?” Dom laughed, but it was gentle. “I sure as hell didn’t know what to do when he was in that hospital bed. Still don’t half the time.”
“But you stayed.”
“Yeah. And so are you.” He paused. “Look, Elena’s going to come in and do her therapist thing, help him figure out some better coping strategies. But you being there? Staying even when it got really scary? That’s what he needs to know he’s not alone in this.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It’s exactly enough. Getting breakfast this morning, being there last night, staying when you were scared and angry and confused,” Dom sounded sure of himself. “That’s the kind of showing up that matters.”
I watched a couple walk hand-in-hand toward the main lodge, their easy comfort with each other making something ache in my chest. “I’m terrified I’m going to mess this up.”
“You won’t mess it up by being honest about how you feel. By asking for what you need. By being human. The only way you mess this up is by pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”
“Like he did with the injections.”
“Exactly like that. You both keep trying to protect each other instead of just... being together.”
“I know. We’re trying. Thank you… for checking on me. On us.”
“You going to be okay?”
“I think so. Maybe. Ask me again when you and Enzo get here for the Fourth celebration.”
“Fair enough.” He paused. “And Alex? You know you can call me if you need extra support.”
“I know.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I ended the call as Finn appeared in the doorway with his coffee and our breakfast, dressed but still looking uncertain. His hair needed a trim, as did his beard.
“Join me?” I smiled up at him, setting his phone down.
He set the takeout bag on the table and relaxed into the chair next to me. Maggie moved to his feet and he huffed a laugh, offering her a gentle pat before taking my hand, lacing our fingers together.
“Dom told me about the hospital. The setbacks.”
“What else did he say?” His thumb traced over my knuckles.
“That recovery isn’t linear. That we’re going to figure this out.” I tilted my head to look at him, “that you talked about me constantly after we met.”
His cheeks colored slightly. “I may have once or twice.”
“‘Constantly,’ he said.”
“Dom exaggerates.”
“Does he?” I raised an eyebrow.
Finn’s smile was small but real. “Maybe not about that.”
I squeezed his hand before reaching for breakfast.
We sat and ate in silence as the sun climbed higher, the ranch coming fully alive below us.
“Can I ask you something?” Finn asked finally as we finished eating.
“You can ask,” I smirked. “We’ll see if I answer.”
“I know… Alex, it’s unnerving that you seem to be over everything that’s happened,” he didn’t look at me. “I thought for sure you’d have at least asked for a different room, but you’re just…”
“You’re waiting for the walls to go back up,” I supplied quietly when he didn’t add more.
He shrugged, eyes meeting mine.
“I can’t always control my immediate reaction to things,” my cheeks warmed, the confession something I’d always been deeply embarrassed over.
“I can’t… it’s emotional dysregulation. It’s why I shut down instead.
My brain forces me to shut down rather than lash out at people, especially people I care about.
It’s helpful sometimes. It’s hard to run a business and be taken seriously when you feel everything so intensely. ”
“And then later you’re fine?” He sounded skeptical.
“I’m not ‘fine,’ per se, but the logical part of my brain catches up and the intense emotions dissipate and I’m able to see things clearly again. Like a fog clearing.”