I nod my head, but remain silent.
“Anyway, it was about a year into the relationship when it started to go south. In the beginning Britney was fun to be around, we hung out. It was easy. Eventually, it became obvious we wanted different things in life. Britney wanted to drink and party with her friends all night.
“She wanted to eat at the most expensive restaurants, buy the best clothes, take lavish vacations. But she didn’t have the money to support that kind of lifestyle and wasn’t willing to work for it.” He hasn’t moved from his spot, but his hands continue to flex into fist as he talks.
“I was a college kid who spent my free time playing video games. Britney didn’t see who I really was. She couldn’t see beyond the fact she was dating a Stanford guy. I was expected to graduate and get a high profile job to make her dreams a reality.” Finn pauses, deep in thought. “Britney didn’t come from a wealthy family, but she wanted to make herself one. I was expected to lead the charge.”
The seconds tick away and he doesn’t start again. Even though I’m pretty sure I know the story’s ending, I prod him to keep talking. "She didn’t agree with the video games?”
Finn laughs, but it’s humorless. “No, she was not a fan of the video games. When she realized I planned to keep designing games, she told me I was wasting my life and she could find someone better… more motivated. I never wanted the big house or multiple cars. What do you do with a car in the city? We were fighting all the time by this point, but I just couldn’t let go.”
He moves to the refrigerator and pulls out two cans of soda. Finn, always the gentleman, pops the top on one and slides the unwanted beverage to me.
“Trey and I sold one of the games I’d developed for a few grand and with the money plus some extra startup cash from Grant we started work on creating more. I then dropped out of Stanford to develop games full time. Britney went crazy when she found out." Finn opens his own soda, his eyes in a faraway stare as he recalls the details. “We had a huge fight. She was no longer dating some high and mighty Stanford man, but a dropout. I won’t bore you with the insults, but it was nasty and we didn’t speak again.”
Finn’s ex-girlfriend sounds like a vapid bitch to me. I don’t see how it has anything to do with our breakup.
“I’m sorry she turned out to be a bitch, Finn, but I don’t understand what it has to do with me or what happened between us." I try to make it a statement, but it’s still a question I want him to answer.
He moves closer to the island and leans over it. This time he takes the can from my hands and wraps both of his around mine.
“It has absolutely nothing to do with you, Aspen. I tried to tell you yesterday. You’re the first serious relationship I’ve had since Britney. I was worried for you Friday and I let those thoughts expand in my head. You were too perfect. I figured you had to a flaw and I jumped on the first one I thought I’d found.”
He grips my hands tighter and his eyes plead with me before he continues. “I somehow told myself the serious career-focused person you’d shown me was a mask.”
I cut him off. “I had a friend in trouble, Finn. Marissa is a sister to me. There is no limit to what I would do for her.”
“I know that. I told you, I was stupid.” Finn pulls his hands from mine and backs away again. “I was scared.”
He fiddles with the soda can in his hand, not drinking from it, and keeps on talking. “I’m scared now. Scared you won’t accept my apology. Scared I've messed this up and you won’t take me back. Scared I’ve lost the one person who might like me for me and all that entails. What can I do to make this better? Please, give me the chance."
He was scared? He thought I was too perfect? I can’t even comprehend those ideas. A small part of my brain, the part that still hurts, tells me to walk out the door and forget I ever met Finnegan McRyan, but my heart and every other part of me screams to give him the chance he’s pleading for.
“You hurt me, Finn.”
In one quick movement he’s at my side, his hands tentative as they move to my shoulders. “God, Aspen. I’m sorry. I can't say it enough, but I’ll say it forever if you’ll give me the chance. I’ll do whatever you ask to get you back."
He stands next to me where I’m still on the stool, my head chest level with him, but I wrap my arms around his midsection. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll give you another chance.” I say into his white shirt. “But don’t screw it up again.”
“Thank you.” Finn kisses my forehead two, three, four times and squeezes me tight. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. And no more screw ups.”
I raise my head to get a better view of him. Even though we seem to be over the worst of this fight, his face is still tight as if it’s still plaguing him. “You don’t have to make it up to me, Finn. Just keep being the wonderful guy you were before Saturday night.”
The minutes pass by, but we stay in his kitchen holding one another without another word between us. Too soon Finn releases me from his hold and pulls me to stand next to him.
“This is so crazy, even I can’t believe I’m going to say it, but can you stay the night? We can cuddle. I just got you back. I want to hold you. Assure myself you're real.”
It’s still early and while I’m glad Finn and I are going to work on our relationship, it’s too soon for me to jump right back into how we were a few days earlier.
The apprehension in my delayed response pushes him to continue. “I’m not asking for more, Aspen. Just you. Preferably somewhere I can see and touch you. We can watch a movie or TV, whatever you want.”
I believe him, but I have to be sure. “Just cuddling?” I question.
His smile is back. “Yeah. I promise.”
