I blink repetitively as I fumble for words. “I… I don’t understand.”
“I know how hard it must have been for you to give me that notebook. You were incredibly secretive about it and I thought about trying to sneak a peek several times. And then I get home and start to unpack my bag. Imagine my shock when I saw it on top of my clothes.”
I try to force myself to relax, but I can’t. I shuffle from one leg to the next in nervous anticipation.
“Speaking of clothes, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about a missing dress shirt of mine, would you?” He brushes a hair from my face and I shrug.
“That was quite a risk you took.”
“Taking your shirt?” I ask as I gaze down at the ground.
He lifts my chin with his fingers. “Letting me read your thoughts. Do you have any idea what that meant to me?”
I shake my head no.
“All this time I thought you were running from me. But it wasn’t about me, it was about you. You were fighting a battle with yourself. I thought I knew everything there was to know about you, but I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry, did you just say you were wrong?” I ask, as if I didn’t hear him.
“You heard me,” he says with a grin. “There’s so much more to this than I realized. But your insight was invaluable. You told our story like it was an epic tale, with all the trials and tribulations, fights and forfeits, and laughter and tears of a real journey. Your insights about all of us and who we are were crazy and accurate, except for me. I’ve never played games with you. I may have flirted and made you nervous for fun, but it was never a game.”
I purse my lips as I search his eyes.
“Your words made me laugh and at times, made me want to run to you and hold you tight. You captured every little detail, including the way Ernesto’s hands would fly in the air when Kel and Em would fight. You listened to everything, but not just with your ears. You listened with your heart. Liz, do you even know what an amazing writer you are?”
“You liked it?” I ask shyly.
“I didn’t like it. I loved it. Like I love you.”
My breath hitches at his words. “You do? You still love me?”
“I never stopped.”
I rush into his arms and he holds me, kissing the side of my head. As much as I want this moment to last, I know I need to tell him.
I push off his chest and take his face in my hands. “I…”
“You don’t have to say it. I already know.”
“I do need to say it. I need to say it because I need to take every risk that comes my way.”
“I’m not a risk. I’m not going anywhere.” He laughs, tilting his head.
“Shh… let me do this. Finnigan Walsh. I. Love. You.”
He releases a breath. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”
There’s a knock on the door. “Do you think we could come back in now?” Sam asks with Ernesto behind her.
“I think there’s been some kind of mistake,” I tell her. “I never intended for anyone other than Finn to read my notebook.”
“No, no mistake,” she replies.
Ernesto takes a step forward and motions to the chairs for us to sit. Sam resumes her spot at the head of the table.
“I ran into Finn in the parking garage,” Ernesto begins. “I asked him how you two were doing and he told me you did something incredible. You wrote our story. Even the stuff I didn’t know. He told me it was funny as hell and even choked him up a bit. He joked with me about how it would make an amazing movie and I was in. I begged him to let me read it and he told me he had to think about it.”
“I didn’t know how to approach you with how I felt after I read it,” Finn says, taking over from where Ernesto left off. “I didn’t think calling you was enough. I’d decided to go to your apartment after work, until I ran into him in the garage. Your words were so personal. Even to me. I wanted to keep them for me alone, but then I realized that wouldn’t be fair.”
