What is Wyatt afraid of?he wrote, then paused, the pen hovering over the page.
The answer came more easily than he expected:Being seen.Reallyseen. Not just the capable, confident man everyone relies on, but the mess underneath. The doubts. The loneliness. The fear that if people saw all of him, they’d realize he wasn’t enough.
Finn’s hand stilled, a chill running through him as he recognized his own fears reflected in the words. This was the problem with writing from the heart—sometimes the heart revealed truths you weren’t ready to face.
He closed the notebook, suddenly unable to continue. Instead, he opened his email again, scanning for any new messages. There, at the top of his inbox, was a longer response from Ollie, sent just minutes ago.
Finn,
Thank you for the detailed estimate and timeline. The phased approach is exactly what we need to keep the store operational. I appreciate the extra thought that went into this plan.
I’ve reviewed everything, and it all looks good to me. Green light for tomorrow morning. I’ll be there at 7:30 to help move books and shelving out of the way before your crew arrives.
Also, in case it wasn’t clear from my soggy appearance this morning, coffee is absolutely essential to my continued functioning. I’ll have a pot brewing when you arrive. Consider it hazard pay for dealing with a sleep-deprived bookstore owner.
Thanks again for the quick response to our mini-disaster.
Ollie
PS The fans are working. The mop and I have reached a mutual understanding. No rest for the weary, but I did manage a power nap on the break room couch, so your professional advice wasn’t entirely ignored.
Finn smiled at the message, particularly the postscript. There was something appealing about Ollie’s blend of determination and self-deprecating humor, the way he faced challenges head-on while still acknowledging his limitations.
He typed a quick response:
Ollie,
Glad to hear the plan works for you. We’ll be there at 8 a.m. sharp tomorrow.
No need to come in early on our account—we can handle moving things out of the way. As for the coffee, I never turn down hazard pay, especially when it comes in liquid form. I always take mine black.
See you tomorrow.
Finn
PS Glad to hear you and the mop have come to terms. Power naps count as rest, but only barely.
He hit send before he could overthink the casual tone, so different from his usual professional correspondence. There was something about Ollie that invited a more relaxed response, as if the bookstore owner’s openness created a space where Finn could let his guard down, just a little.
His phone buzzed with a text from Keaton just as he was about to return to his manuscript:
Schedule change for tomorrow. I was going to ask Luke to help you guys get started, but Eli is sick, and Noah can’t stay home. Can you manage with just Brendan and the new guys?
Finn felt a flicker of anxiety. They were already on a tight timeline, and losing Luke’s expertise would put them behind.
We’ll make it work. Tell them not to worry.
Keaton’s response was immediate.
Thanks, Finn. Knew I could count on you.
The words were meant as a compliment, but they settled like a weight on Finn’s shoulders. Everyone could count on him. Everyone counted on him. To solve problems, to pick up slack, to make things work no matter what.
What happens when you run out of solutions? When you can’t make it work?
He closed his laptop without returning to the manuscript. Tomorrow would be a long day, and he needed rest more than he needed to wrestle with Wyatt’s emotional journey—or his own. The writing would have to wait, just like it always did when real life demanded his attention.
As he got ready for bed, Finn heard faint music coming from Brooklyn’s room. Not her usual upbeat playlist, but something slower, sadder. He paused outside her door, hand raised to knock, then lowered it again. She’d talk when she was ready. Pushing would only make her retreat further.
