“Fuck you! I’m not lying.”
“Liz—”
“If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to call security—on you.”
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head at me.
Pushing past him forcibly, I pick up my phone. “I’m warning you. Leave. Now!”
He raises his hands to me. “Okay. Alright. I’ll go. Have a wonderful evening, Ms. Foley.”
I cross my arms and watch him slowly tread away; I even step out from my cubicle to make sure he gets on the elevator.
He glances back at me one last time and there’s a softness in his eyes. It’s as if he’s hoping I’ll stop him. He doesn’t know me very well. I don’t need anyone.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I flop into my chair. My faked anger quickly dissipates and I’m left with an overwhelming sense of sadness and worry. I stare at my cookie dinner and no longer want to eat. Turning my head from left to right, I glance around the empty cubicles and imagine my co-workers sitting around their dinner tables with their families, laughing and telling stories about their day. My head drops and the tears begin to flow. I sob softly before it turns into an ugly, nasty cry. Leaning my head down onto my folded arms, I let my fears overtake me and I let it all out.
A few seconds later, a hand softly caresses my back. I jump and turn to see Finn crouched down next to me.
“Come here.” His arms open and I fall from my desk into him on the floor.
I grip him tightly as he holds me close. I don’t know what I’m thinking, crying on his shoulder. Feeling embarrassed, I push away from him. “What…what are you doing?” I ask, wiping my eyes.
He pulls a light green handkerchief from his suit and hands it to me. “I’m letting you cry.”
“Why are you here?” I ask as I dab my eyes and lift back up into my seat. “I told you, I have work to do.”
He sighs heavily and his shoulders slump.
I stare at him blankly and sniffle, recomposing myself. “What do you want me to say? I had a bad day.”
“I want you to say, yes Finn, I’d love a ride home.”
“I don’t need a ride.” I’m so convincing in my response that I wonder if I should try my hand at acting.
Standing, he places his hands along the sides of his head and scratches his scalp with both hands simultaneously, releasing a small growl. “I do believe I may have met my match in stubbornness.”
Closing my eyes, I reopen them to the cookies on my desk. These cookies don’t come in singles. There are five to a pack, like a little family. I miss having a family to come home to. As much as I want to tell him the truth, I’ve gone this far and I don’t know how to turn back. “I told you, I’m not good with talking,” I manage in a whisper.
“Then don’t say another word. Turn off your computer and your light. Pick up your sweater and purse and simply walk with me. That’s all I’m asking.”
I gaze up into his tender eyes. He holds out his hand to me and motions toward the elevators with a small nod of his head.
I consider my choices: trying to sleep in my office chair or curling up in my warm bed. I glance around uneasily until my eyes fall once again on his open hand. Swallowing hard, I take a leap of faith and place my hand in his. I hear him sigh in relief. I stand and turn off my light. I always log out before I leave my desk, so the only thing I need to do is pick up my things.
He reaches out to take my bag, but stops himself. I’m grateful he remembered. I really don’t want to say another word. I may end up spending the night here if I do.
We walk in silence all the way to his car and we drive the entire way back to my place the same way.
When he pulls in front of my building, I pause before opening the door. I don’t know what to say or how to say it. He speaks first.
“I’ll be here at 6 a.m. sharp. See you tomorrow.”
I glance over to him and there’s kindness in his eyes. I think it’s always been there, I just didn’t know what it was until now. Lifting my bag, I walk to my door and turn to wave goodbye. He waves back before pulling away, leaving me genuinely surprised and extremely grateful that Finnigan Walsh is a man who never gives up.
