Nineteen.

 

When Lottie, Kit, and I arrive for brunch at the harbor, Finn is already there with Dee, trading rock star gossip at a table by the water like they’ve been best friends for years.

“Hey beautiful.” He gets up when he sees me, and my heart does a slow flip. He’s looking dangerously hot with his hair pulled back in a manbun, and two-day stubble on his gorgeous jaw. His eyes twinkle, aqua blue in the sun. He makes room beside him, and kisses me gently on the lips when I sit down. “Have fun last night?”

I smile. “I have a newfound respect for muscle cars,” I tell him. He looks puzzled, but I’m already taking in the spread of food on the table. “You ordered!” I exclaim happily.

“I know my place,” he jokes. “Never let a woman get hungry.”

I grin. “You won’t like us when we’re hungry.” I grab a strip of bacon, and steal some pancakes from his plate.

“Eat your own,” he protests, nudging my plate closer.

“I want to try both. What’s yours is mine.” I scoop up a forkful of his strawberries.

Finn smirks, “Is that how this works?”

“You better believe it.” I grin back, feeling happy just to be near him again.

There’s a noise. Delilah clears her throat loudly. I look up, surprised.

“Hey,” she waves. “It’s me. One of the other people at this table.”

“Sorry.” I flush, but she’s smiling.

“God, you two are like a married couple already.” She sighs. “Way to make the rest of us feel single and alone.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lottie pipes up. “I have a man in my life.” She coos at Kit, who answers by launching a spoon of baby food at her. We all laugh. “OK, so maybe my love is unrequited right now.”

I hand her a stack of napkins, and Lottie wipes the mess off her face. “Thanks again for hosting the party,” she tells Finn. “I stopped by today to see if I could help with clean up, but you already had a crew in. The place was spotless.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Finn leans back, casually draping his arm around my shoulders. “It was good to catch up with everyone. I haven’t seen some of those guys in years.”

“Your set was quite the hit,” Delilah notes. “Someone already put it up online.”

I give Lottie a look. “Not me!” she protests.

Finn chuckles. “It’s okay, hazard of the trade.”

“When are you getting back in the studio?” Lottie asks eagerly. “I can’t wait to hear some new music.”

I feel Finn tense slightly beside me, or maybe that’s just his muscles rippling as he reaches to sneak some hash browns from my plate. “One of these days,” he answers casually. “The muse is a tricky thing. You can’t rush art.”

“Says a man with a platinum record and money in the bank.” Delilah pops a piece of pineapple in her mouth. “I bet you weren’t so relaxed back before you had a hit.”

Finn laughs. “True. Back then I hustled for anything I could get. I would beg and borrow studio time all over the place. This one producer in Nashville took pity on me,” he remembers, smiling, “He let me come in at one, two AM after all his other clients were done. I barely slept in a month, but those were the first demos I ever cut.”

I watch his face, just talking about it. There’s a light shining there at the memories, something inspired. I realize that I’ve barely seen this side of him. I caught a glimpse at Lottie’s party, with the guitar in his hands, a moment when he talks about performing, too. But this part of his life is something that exists outside of Oak Harbor, in studios and on stages I’ve never even seen. Suddenly, I feel the distance between us more than ever – those years apart, when he was off living a life I know nothing about.

As if he can sense my mood shift, Finn stops, then gives a shrug. “But it’s cool being able to take my time with this next record. Kyle and the label will just have to wait a while.” He squeezes my shoulder, and gives me a private smile, but I’m not convinced he wouldn’t be right back there in the studio – if it wasn’t for me.

“Anyway,” Finn changes the subject. “What have you lovely ladies got planned for the weekend?”

“It’s all go here,” Lottie replies, still mopping up after Kit. “We’ve got baby music class, then a play date in the park.”

“And I’m scoping some new listings,” Delilah adds. “I heard a rumor that the Petersons might be divorcing soon. That house would be amazing on my books, so I’m going to drop by and say hi to Fran.”

“Dee!” I laugh at her blatant tactics. “What if she doesn’t want to sell?”

“What? The kids are off in college. She won’t want to be rattling round that old place on her own.” Delilah’s eyes gleam. “I’ll find her a cute townhouse near the country club, and then it’ll be two commissions for the price of one.”

“You’re too good at this.” I shake my head, admiring.

She beams. “When you find what you’re supposed to do, everything makes sense.”

I wish it was so easy for me. I thought acting was my passion, but I haven’t stepped foot on a stage, or picked up a play in over two years now. It makes me guilty to think how easily I stepped away from my dreams. But now isn’t the time to dwell on the past, not with Finn’s hand stroking lazy circles on my shoulder, and a bright, sunny day ahead. We finish up breakfast, and he insists on picking up the tab. Then we all pack up Kit and stroll back towards town.

“What about you?” Lottie asks me, pushing the stroller. “What are you guys planning? Wait, I don’t need to ask. It’s the weekend, we know what that means.”

Finn turns to me and arches an eyebrow. “What does it mean?”

“You don’t know about the schedule?” Lottie and Delilah laugh. “Eva has everything set in stone.”

“I’m not that bad,” I protest.

“Sure you are,” Lottie teases. “First laundry, then cleaning—”

“Don’t forget groceries,” Dee pitches in, looking up from her phone.

“Shut up,” I flush. “You’re making me sound boring. I just like having a routine, that’s all.”

“Live dangerously,” Lottie urges me. “Finn, c’mon, help us out.”

“I’ll do my best.” He nudges me. “What do you say? Want to play hooky for the day?” His smile is full of mischief, and I wonder in what universe would anyone turn him down.

“That depends what you’ve got in mind.” I tease.

“Well, first we need to get you wet.” He murmurs, too low for the others to hear. I blink. “In the ocean,” he adds, winking. “I was thinking a beach day.”

“That sounds great.” Lottie declares.

“But don’t you need me to watch Kit?” I ask.

She waves my concern away. “I’ve got it. You go be young, wild, and irresponsible.”

“That sounds like an order,” Finn says gravely.

“It is.” Lottie gives me a meaningful look. “You two should get out of town for the day. Take some time to hang out, have fun. Talk.”

I give her a glare, but she’s already hugging Dee goodbye and heading out. Finn chivalrously opens his car door for me.

“Ready?”

As I’ll ever be.

 

We spend the day by the ocean, following the winding coastal route out of town until we find the stretch of calm shoreline up near Beachwood Bay. It’s still early in the season, and most people have stuck to the town beach, but Finn drives us out further, to where the golden sands are empty and the waves crash against the shore. We make ourselves a hollow in the dunes, half-hidden amongst the sea-grasses, sheltered from the brisk sea breeze, and let the hours drift by, just talking and kissing and dozing together on the sand. Finn brings his guitar, and I make him play for me, his finger moving so surely over the strings in a melody he knows by heart. It’s perfect, the kind of day you want to freeze in amber just for the simple peace of those moments in his arms. The lazy path of his fingertips on my stomach, the slow, steady beating of his heart as I nestle my head against his chest. Last time I took it all for granted in that wide eyed teenage way, not realizing how rare or precious it was to connect with someone like this. Now, I won’t make the same mistake.

The sun is sinking lower in the pale sky when Finn takes my hand. “Come on, let’s take a walk,” he says, tugging me to my feet.

“Or we could do more sitting,” I yawn, and he laughs.

“I haven’t dunked my feet in the ocean for years.” He tugs again, and we leave our things in the dunes and head, barefoot, towards the waves. The ocean is restless today, foaming in distant peaks and rushing to fill the shallow flats with tiny tributaries and streams. A wave rushes over my feet. I gasp from the cold, but I quickly get used to it, the afternoon light fading on the far horizon.

Finn takes a deep breath beside me. “It’s fucking beautiful,” he says, looking out across the bay. “I forget that, sometimes, with everything else.”

“No place like it,” I agree.

“Is that why you came back?” Finn turns to look at me.

I shrug and keep walking, the shallow waves rushing over our bare feet. “I told you, New York just didn’t work out.”

“Eva.” My name is so soft on his lips it makes me ache. “I know you, and you’re no quitter. It was all you used to talk about, making it to the city, making it on Broadway, or someplace else. What happened?” Finn squeezes my hand. “I’ve been trying to figure it, but I just don’t get it.”

I take a deep breath. Even though he’s confided in me and bared every part of his past, I still feel so exposed right now. It’s hard to find the words.

“I messed up,” I admit finally. “I lost myself, I guess. Did you ever feel like you just disappeared, and the person living your life wasn’t you?”

Finn nods, his eyes not leaving my face.

“That was me in New York,” I sigh, looking out across the water. “I just… wanted to forget you. Forget everything. I went so far off course you wouldn’t have recognized me. Even I couldn’t recognize myself anymore. The partying, the other men.” I stop, getting choked up, but it’s not my stammer getting in the way of speaking. It’s shame this time.

I look anxiously at Finn, but he just gives me an weary smile. “I’ve been there, honey. Believe me, I know. But that’s all behind us now. You can’t let it hold you back.”

“But.” I swallow, feeling confused at how easily he’s taking the story. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“I know what I went through without you, and fuck, I’m not proud of that either.” Finn pulls me closer. “You want to talk about self destruction? I could fill a whole book with the things I did. But none of it matters now. I don’t need to know who you used to be,” he swears. “All that matters is standing in front of me, right now.”

I can’t stop the tears coming. I wish he could be right. If only I could wipe the slate clean and never have to face the past again, life would be so much simpler for the both of us. But I know, deep down, I can’t go on like this. It’s been eating away at me not sharing my whole heart, and keeping him in the dark any longer will only make it worse.

“Hey,” he murmurs, wiping my tears away. “Shh, don’t cry.”

But something’s split wide open inside me, and all the emotions I’ve tried so hard to contain come rushing out. For five years, I’ve kept them locked away, and I can’t do it anymore.

I open my mouth, and find the strength to say the hardest words of all.

“I was pregnant,” I whisper sadly, into the crashing of the waves. “When you left, I was pregnant.”

A rush of pure relief flood through me. And finally, I’m not alone in this anymore.