He smiles at me. “I’m sorry. I was an ass. I couldn’t believe you’d broken up with that guy for me. Or that you would care enough to make it work long distance. And I panicked and got back with Pilar because that felt safe. There was always going to be an escape route with her. I knew it wasn’t going to be anything permanent, so it lessened the pressure.”
Keeping everything close to the vest hasn’t worked so far, so I take the last step. Looking up into Finn’s warm brown eyes, I say, “Look, if you’re not in a relationship place right now, I respect that. I’d rather just know the truth up-front. I don’t want us to keep hurting each other with misunderstandings.”
“Emma,” Finn says, tucking hair behind my ear, “when I said the other day that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I did mean it—or I thought I did. It just seemed easier, you know? If you have no commitments, you have no one to disappoint.” There’s uncertainty written all over his face, so I reach out and squeeze his hand. “But for the past three days, I’ve been trying to make sense ofthis. Seeing you again. All the old feelings that came right back up, as if they’d never gone anywhere.” I nod, knowing exactly what he means. “I knew I screwed things up between us last time,” Finn continues. “That I’d be crazy to think I deserved another chance with you, no matter how much I might want one…” Then, after a pause, Finn looksback at me, the slightest hint of a smirk forming on his lips. “You made that pretty clear the first night. What was it you said? ‘Absolutely not my type. Never has been, never will be’?”
“That may have beenslightlyhyperbolic,” I admit with a cringe.
Finn gives me a soft smile. “Well, it sounded pretty fair to me, considering.”
My heart clenches. Finn did hurt me with the way he handled the Pilar situation, but I know now it was just a mistake, born out of the same insecurities that had me keeping Finn at arm’s length. I hate that he’s spent years thinking I was some unattainable figure on a pedestal that he wasn’t worthy of pursuing. Because the truth is, Finn is more than deserving of being with whoever he wants. And not just because he’s successful, smart, and frickin’ gorgeous, but because he has one of the strongest moral codes of anyone I know—he always has; I just couldn’t see it at the time. Looking back now, it’s so obvious. He’s kept Sybil’s secrets for nearly a decade. He stopped us from going too far the night on the rooftop when I was still with Preston. And he’s never promised me more than he knew he could deliver. I want to tell him all this, to make sure he knows he’s a good man, to—
“But the thing is”—Finn interrupts my racing thoughts, his mouth curling into grin again—“I always did like a challenge.” I pull my hand from his to give him a playful smack on the arm, but then he recaptures my hand and presses it to his heart. “And proving myself worthy of your love sounds like the best challenge yet.” My heart swells at that; I can practically feel it threatening to burst through my rib cage.
“You don’t have to prove a damn thing.” I barely get thewords out before his lips crash to mine. They stay there for several moments until I pull back for air. “But seriously,” I say as the ocean breeze ruffles the skirt of my bridesmaid’s dress, “I know it will be hard, but I care enough to try to make this work.”
“I do too.”
Now I’m the one who’s giddy. “Wait, really? Really, really?”
Finn laughs. “Yeah, really, Emma. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I love you too.”
And those words take my breath away.
But only for a minute. “Took you long enough,” I say, smiling so hard it hurts my face.
“Only eleven and a half years,” he says. And then we’re kissing again, and I let myself finally melt into the moment, into him, into the inevitability of it all. The inevitability ofus.
“What are we going to do about the continent in between us?” I ask.
“I’ll move to New York. Or you’ll move to California. Or we’ll both move back to Texas or Paris or Morocco. Whatever you want to do. I’m a free agent these days. But if you’re going to design that house for me, I’ll need you to be nearby. In case I have an emergency question about drapes or tiles.”
“We certainly can’t allow for any tile emergencies. I think I can manage to make myself available to you.”
He presses his lips to mine. It’s a kiss that feels like a beginning.
26
SATURDAY AFTERNOON
(Wedding day)
IHALF EXPECT HERnot to be there when I open the door to Nikki’s room.
But there she is, in all her white-gown glory.
“Sybil!” I wrap her in a hug so tight she lets out a small squeak. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Mama Bear,” she wheezes out, patting me on the back. “You can release me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words.I’m not going anywhere.They hit me right in the chest. Because until now, I think I really believed that the reason I was so determined to find Sybil was so she could marry Jamie and have her happily ever after with him. Because that was what wassupposedto happen. Because I was in chargeof helping make sure that’s what happens. Only now, the obvious truth makes it hard for me not to let tears burst down over my freshly made-up face. It was never about Sybil and Jamie. It was always about Sybil and me.
And now, I know exactly what to say in my maid of honor speech. It’s a love note to the friend who has always come back, who has never left me, not really. Who has, even in her wildest or flightiest moments, shown what loyalty really is.
“I’m so glad to hear that. I love you, babe,” I tell her, willing myself not to cry. I pull back to give her a once-over. Her hair is in a messy braid, and there are dark circles under her eyes peeking through her fabulous makeup job, but she seems at peace. The crackling current that had radiated off her during our failed bachelorette party has been replaced by smooth calm. Nikki and Willow, meanwhile, both look how I feel—exhausted but buoyed by adrenaline.
“Oh, and maybe you want your phone back, too, Sybs,” I add, handing it to her.
“Thanks.” Sybil takes the phone and tucks it into a small beaded bag on the vanity, then crosses the room and perches beside Willow on the bed. “I can’t believe I left it in the back of the car. God, I’m such an airhead.”
