With a slow, deliberate motion, he raises his hand and gives us a small wave. Like a silent nod of approval. Before either of us can respond, he's rolling his car window up, the glass swallowing his expression, and the car glides away smoothly into the distance. I watch the taillights disappear and exhale softly.
I guess the whole family decided to see us off, or maybe they're here to change our minds. Either way, it's too late for that. Gianna and I are leaving New York. And for the first time in a long time, we're not running from something—we're running toward something.
Together.
CHAPTER 43
Gianna
I follow behind Finn,my hand fitting right in his as he guides me through the private plane. I don't really care about what's happening around me; I just know that wherever I am with Finn is a safe place.
We settle into the plush leather seats, and I take the window spot. Finn sinks into the seat beside me, relaxing into it. He still holds my hand, like he's scared I might disappear. I let him hold it, I don't mind. In fact, if there's a way to live in his skin, I'll take the option.
He turns to me. "Are you comfortable?" he asks. I nod with a soft smile on my face.
"Why didn't Liam say hi before leaving?" I ask as Finn reaches with his hand to pick something from my hair. "I'm more surprised he showed up," Finn responds, pulling his hand from mine. I immediately miss the warmth.
"Seatbelt," he says, and I listen, fastening my seatbelt. I look out the window. Italy. Finn and I thought far and wide on where to visit before deciding to go there. It's an amazing place and I'm excited to experience the beauty of it.
After a few minutes, the plane is in the air. The clouds look like soft mountains from up here, pillow-like ridges stretching endlessly across the sky. The sun is setting, and it paints the clouds in beautiful hues of orange and purple. It's absolutely breathtaking. There's something so peaceful about it, so still, like the world below has paused just to let me breathe for a little while longer.
I rest my head against the window, letting the cool glass soothe the warmth in my cheeks. Finn is asleep beside me, his fingers gently curled around mine. He twitched earlier when the plane took off, grumbling about turbulence and then promptly knocked out.
I haven't said much since we boarded. I'm not sad or nervous. I just feel... everything. Joy, love, exhaustion. Peace. A whisper of fear, too, if I'm being honest. My eyes trace the clouds below, and I wonder when I stopped running from things. When the version of me who kept her feelings hidden, who mistook silence for strength, finally gave way to one feeling everything so loudly now.
Loud enough to admit she's scared. Brave enough to keep going anyway. I reach down and pull the leather-bound notebook from my bag. I've carried it around for months, half filled with lists I never finished and scattered sentences I never intended to read aloud.
But today, I feel like writing. I take the pen from the front flap and open to a fresh page and I begin.
Somewhere over the clouds
I never thought I would find peace in the middle of chaos. I used to think that strength meant disappearing when things got hard. Keeping my chin up, staying quiet, making myself smaller so I wouldn't be seen or questioned. But I realize now, that wasn't strength. That was survival. And I was tired ofsurviving. And most importantly I was tired of living like I was in a cage. I wanted freedom.
Finn and I have walked through fire. No, not literal flames, but the kind that burns quietly. The kind that hides in family expectations, in whispered threats, in blood ties that feel more like chains than roots. We stood on opposite sides of clans, of politics, of centuries of anger neither of us asked to inherit. And still, we chose each other.
Even when we didn't understand what we were feeling. Even when everything told us not to.
I think love is a choice. That sounds too simple, maybe even cliche, but it's the truth. It's not butterflies or grand gestures. It's waking up every day and saying, I choose you. I choose you even when I'm tired. Even when I'm scared. Even when I'm angry.
I choose Finn.
Even when the world made me question everything, especially when it did. I've watched him fight battles I don't even know how to name. I've seen him soften when no one else could, and lead when it would have been easier to walk away. And I've let him see the messy, broken, unsure parts of me too. And he stayed.
There were days I thought we wouldn't make it. Moments where I doubted myself and our future. Times where the silence between us was louder than gunfire. But still we made it through. We didn't escape. We didn't run. We walked through it. With our heads held high. Our scars showing. Our hands still linked.
There's something beautiful about that. Something real. I don't know what Italy holds. I don't know what this next chapter will bring. But I know this: I am no longer the same girl who stood quietly in the corner of her family's house, waiting for permission to breathe.
I have found my joy, my peace and future in Finn.
I didn't think it was possible, but here we are. I love you, Finn. Everything in me lives to express how much I love you.
I pause, reading over the words again, my pen hovering above the paper. I almost laugh. How did a quiet flight over the ocean turn into a soul confession? The plane hums softly around me. Finn shifts beside me, murmuring something incoherent in his sleep.
I glance at him. How did we survive it all?
Because we didn't pretend the pain wasn't there. We didn't ignore the wreckage we came from. We stood in it, side by side, and dared to build something from the ashes. We learned from each other. We unlearned fear, and maybe, most importantly, we didn't let anyone else define the ending for us.
I tear the paper slowly from my journal, trying to avoid cutting into my writing. I fold it perfectly into a small size and tuck it into Finn's jacket.
