Chapter Twenty-Three
I woke up sometime in the middle of the night, curled into a tight ball, with Finn curled around me. It felt good. Really good. But now, here in the middle of the dark, quiet night, I was wide awake and that usually spelled trouble. It meant me being alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that usually tried to talk me in or out of things and in this situation, they were leaning towards out.
I had to get over my own fears and I had no idea just how to do this. I slowly eased myself out of bed so as not to disturb him. I slipped on my track pants and hoodie and grabbed my notebook and slipped outside into the night.
It was my favourite time to write, but also the most aggravating. It usually meant I was sleep deprived the following day, but had a magical creative night.
I sat down on one of the chairs Finn had arranged on the porch and figured out my first and most major problem. There was no light outside. Ugh, I had just hobbled all the way out here, and I didn’t feel like immediately hobbling all the way back in and turning on a light. So, I guess it was just me and my thoughts. Dangerous.
Automatically, my thoughts led me right to my current predicament. Finn. He was hot, sexy, rugged, outdoorsy, fun, intelligent and financially secure. Pretty much sounded like a dream man, but what would happen when we left our little cocoon out here? I wasn’t famous guy girlfriend material. For starters, I was older than him. I was average height and curvy. He was tall and fit. I wasn’t even remotely famous, with the exception of within my writers club, but that totally didn’t count. I wasn’t into fashion and wasn’t all that interesting. He could do so much better than me and the gossip columns were going to point that out and then where would that leave me?
Heartbroken and with a bruised ego. No doubt I was going to endure a lot worse than a crazy fan with a handgun out there. Finn led a pretty private life, but had obligations to the projects he had to make appearances and promote his work. He would do better to have a hot, young starlet on his arm than frumpy old me.
And lastly, there was the matter of my widowhood. I was having a lot of trouble getting past my guilt, even though I knew it didn’t make any sense. I was feeling guilty for moving on and deep down I knew that was an excuse I was giving myself, but I was holding onto it like a life raft.
Well, wasn’t this just great. Pity party, table for one please. I needed to get out of my head and fast before I hopped on the golf cart and drove around in the dark trying to get back to the main house, but instead veering off into some sort of coyote den and becoming one of their late night snacks.
I slowly climbed the three steps into the cabin and decided to try reading to relax me and take my mind off things. I passed by the bed to get to my bag and stopped and stared. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. He was curled up in a ball, no shirt on, just boxers. A few days of growth on his chin for his current role as a drug dealer with a heart, and that smirk that he wore so well on his face.
What was I doing with him? The bigger question, what was he doing with me?
I resisted the urge to reach out and tuck some stray hair off his face and instead moved on to the chair in front of the fire and settled in to a long, sleepless night of reading and listening to my brain argue with my heart.
I must have finally drifted off, as the next thing I knew, I felt a warmth at my back and a soft kiss on my neck. A pair of arms snaked around my tummy to knot in the front. Without opening my eyes, I let out a soft moan and turned in the chair to come face to face with those eyes and that smile. Today, the smile was tentative and the eyes unsure.
“Why are you over here, George? What happened last night?”
I took a deep breath. I gave myself ten seconds to whip through my options here. Option one was to just say I had insomnia and this happened a lot, which wasn’t quite the truth, but had an element of truth. Option two was telling him the truth, all of it and see where that lead me. I wasn’t always a big lover of the cold hard truth, more of the truth with embellishments when it came to uncomfortable situations. I reached out and tucked a stray hair of his behind his ear. My fingers just fell naturally down his jawline and as I traced his strong features I made the mistake of looking up into his eyes.
He looked so unsure, tinged with a bit of hope, that I just couldn’t do it. I had to go with the truth and nothing but the truth and I hoped that we both could handle it.
“I couldn’t sleep.” I started with something easy.
“I got that,” he said.
“So, I went outside to try to write. It’s my favourite place to write. At night, under the stars. Except, when I got out there, I realized, you don’t have any outside lights. So, I sat there and debated just sitting there or going back inside for a bit and just sitting there won. But after sitting there for a few minutes, my mind began to kick into high gear.” Here came the tricky part.
“Finn, what are we doing here? Why are you still here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Um, well, I started to think about what leaving here was going to look like today. I would go back home and you would go back to your life. Your life where you have crazy schedules, beautiful women, paparazzi and stalkers.” Once again, I made the mistake of looking into his eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, but I shushed him.
“Please, let me finish. Finn, you travel in a circle that I can’t even begin to imagine being in. You’re Finn Lowry. You deserve to be with a beautiful woman, an equal. Someone you can walk the red carpet with in confidence or attend promotional events with that will be spectacular on your arm.”
I smiled. “I’m not sure that’s me, Finn. I’m average George. I don’t know your friends, things you like to do and you don’t know anything meaningful about me. The real world isn’t going to make this easy on us and I can’t help but feel I might feel the majority of that pain.”
“Are you done?”
“Well,-
“No, are you done?”
“Nope, not done Finn. You need to let me finish. I spent the morning thinking of all of that shit. I came to all sorts of conclusions but I finally settled on bravery. You’re going to have to be brave to knock sense into me when I get like this and it won’t be pretty, and I’m going to be brave for once and see where this goes.”
I placed a light kiss on his lips and leaned back to see him smile. I smiled back and knew we were in for the ride of our lives and it was sure to be a bumpy one.
It was then that his damn phone decided to start in. Already, at this time of the day.
He turned to answer it and cursed. Not silently, under his breath, but loudly so I and all of the eastern seaboard could hear. “Hold that thought.”
He stalked over to his phone and scowled at it when he saw the text that had come in. He texted something back to whoever it was and threw it on the bed.
“Looks like we’re going to have to get a move on. I have to go into work once again unexpectedly. I’m sorry Georgie.”
“Call me Georgie again and you really will be sorry, mister,” I said.
He looked at me with raised eyebrows and issued his blatant dare. “Georgie. And what are you gonna do about it, huh?” He turned away and began to pack up and tidy around the cabin. I flipped him the bird behind his back, as that was about all I could manage. I shuffled around doing the most I could to help, but I think more than anything, I was proving I wasn’t much help at all in my current condition. This was the most I had been moving around in days and my body was starting to feel the effects of the exhaustion.
Soon, we were ready to leave and an unexpected sense of sadness came over me. I came here an unwilling visitor but was leaving a changed woman. I saw sides of Finn I had never seen before and wanted to see again. I had also done some serious introspective thinking and was eager to leave that part behind. But most of all, I had found a small part of me coming back. The guilt had eased just a little less and I was excited and mostly fearful about what laid ahead for us.
I felt like banging my head against the wall. Writer’s block had taken a hold of me again and had me in its’ grip. It had been nearly two frustrating weeks since we had left Finn’s cabin and I had only heard from him occasionally and hadn’t been able to see him at all. I wasn’t sure if this was what our norm was going to look like or if this was something I needed to be concerned about. The only way I was going to ever find out was to ask him.
Easier said than done. I had texted him a few times and had always gotten the odd vague response, but nothing concrete. I was on pins and needles waiting for him to get back to me. I was alternating between theories of work, a new girl, or something even more awful, keeping him from calling me back. I knew the only way I would ever know was to confront him or just politely ask, but that was hard too as I couldn’t get many words into our brief conversations.
I decided to pack up my pathetic excuse for a book and take it on the road. I needed a distraction as well as time to figure out just what exactly was going on.
I packed my laptop, threw some clothes in a bag with overnight gear, grabbed my phone and hopped in the car. I had a deadline to meet for my editor and if I couldn’t figure out a way to channel this anxiety into a chapter or two, then I was in huge shit. A few nights away somewhere usually did the trick. I had no idea where I was going to go, I just knew I needed to get out of town. I drove out of the city and ended up heading in a vague northerly direction.
About two hours into the drive I couldn’t drive anymore and decided to find somewhere to stay for the night. I pulled into a town north of Santa Barbara and parked on a side road. I pulled out my phone and looked for inns in the vicinity. I found a few options fairly quickly and based on their reviews and pictures, rated them and took off for the number one pick.
I pulled into the parking area of my first choice, the Arbour Inn, and hoped they had a room. It was as beautiful as its pictures online and the reviews were first class. They in fact had a room with a view so I quickly checked in and practically ran upstairs.
The room was stunning and couldn’t be more perfect. There was a chaise facing the floor to ceiling window that overlooked the gardens in the back and in the distance, the ocean. I walked to the windows and opened the garden doors in order to let in the sea air and clear my head.
I took off my shoes, changed into my comfy clothes and opened my laptop to see what came out. I grabbed my phone first as I hadn’t checked it in five hours by this time and I was starting to get the shakes from cell withdrawal.
My heart did a huge leap into my throat as I saw that I had missed four texts and had two voice mails from Finn. I didn’t open them just yet. I needed to spend some time writing and making the most of this room and view. I would retrieve the messages in a little while.
I settled in and got lost in the release of writing. I wrote the scene in my book that I had been struggling with for a long time. It was a scene full of anger and frustration and despair. I had set that scene aside for so long I nearly forgot I still needed to write it. I guess it was true that you write about what you know, and what you’re feeling. I was so pissed off about everything and nothing at the same time and it was evident in the words flowing out from my fingers.
I guess I needed to take a look at what was actually going on between Finn and I. He had never made me any promises and maybe I was getting way ahead of myself with our relationship. A few weeks ago, I was running the other way and now here I was pining away for him.
The sun had set, my view disappeared and I decided to go out to get something to eat. My options were slim. Sleazy diner number one or slightly sleazier diner number two. I chose sleazy diner number one due to its proximity to the inn. I placed my order and settled in with my journal while I waited for my dinner. The diner had a flat screen TV on above the countertop and it was tuned to a trashy entertainment show. My weakness. I loved those shows much to my dismay. I knew better than to believe 90% of the shit they published or talked about but still, I couldn’t resist.
The waitress turned it up when the show started and I gave in, put my journal down and listened in. The show lead with a bunch of breaking news that had happened yesterday and then a familiar face flashed up on the screen. I dropped my pen and gave the TV my full attention.
The story lead with Finn’s face and they talked about a new role he was rumoured to be up for. Then the bottom of my world kind of fell out as they cut to a related story about Finn being rumoured to have found a new love. Who wasn’t me.
They showed clips of Finn and his co-star, Serena, walking, holding hands, and in an intimate face to face discussion that didn’t look to be about the weather. The story went on to speculate that this romance had been years in the works and that the two co-stars getting together was inevitable.
My food came but I had suddenly lost my appetite. My pep talk about these shows being trash and total lies just went out the window. My so called boyfriend was stringing me along and I had the proof right in front of me.
I paid for my meal and left only to find it had started raining. I walked the five minute walk it took to get back to my room in a state of complete misery. Dripping wet, angry and tired, I let myself into my room to hear my phone ringing.
I decided to dry off before I grabbed it so it had gone to voice mail by the time I came out of the bathroom. When I unlocked the screen, I saw that it had been Finn. This call made for a total of ten calls that I had missed from him. I figured he had probably been trying to head off the footage I just saw. I flopped down on the bed and gave me head a virtual shake. I was being a jealous baby. This was only one side of the story and I really should give him at least the courtesy to listen to the messages he had left.
I listened to the first message. “George, it’s me. Where are you? Call me back.” The second and third we much the same, but by the fourth, his voice was sounding strained and I started to feel a sense of foreboding.
“George, ok, now I’m kinda freaked out. Baby, please call or text me to tell me you’re ok? I’ve been really busy at work and I’m an ass when I get immersed in some scenes. I had to film a crazy intense scene this week and I lost my mind. I did not need you to see me like that. It was ugly.” He took a deep breath and paused like he was trying to say something. “Ok, well, I just need to hear your voice. Call me. I won’t be a stalker anymore.”
Oh shit. I was beginning to think I had jumped to the wrong conclusion once again as was my way. The next message was from him again, “George, now I’m freaked. Call me.”
Then it was Sam’s turn to berate me. “George, I don’t know where you are or what you’re up to, but Finn Lowry is going insane trying to find you and even though I know you do this all the time, he’s got me convinced you’ve been kidnapped or some sort of shit like that. Can you text me or call to let us know you’re fine? And maybe next time you pull a runner, let someone know. Like your best friend. Or your boyfriend you never told your best friend you were running from.”
Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t bother with messages seven through ten. I quickly shot off a text to Sam, letting her know where I was and that I was fine and that I was writing and would be back the next day or the day after and not to call Finn. I would explain all when I got back.
That done, I chickened out and texted Finn. I was such a douche. I was terrified to talk to him. I was acting like a self-absorbed teenager. He definitely owed me an explanation, but I didn’t even ask for it. Just judge and juried him all at once.
Hey, it’s George. Can we talk? I am fine, drove up the coast. Doing some writing and thinking. Around now if u want 2 call.
Jesus Christ George. WTF. We need to talk. You scared me to shit. Glad you’re alive and all.
I miss u
Oh God. Now I really felt like shit. He had blown through sad and scared and went right to pissed and then sweet. I was terrified what I was going to get on the phone when he called. I also needed to think quickly about my ability to handle a relationship with a celebrity. They clearly came with their own set of unique issues.
My phone began to ring and I stared at it for a few seconds and then answered it, completely unsure of what I was going to say and do. “Hi,” I lamely spit out.
“Hi yourself. George, what the fuck is going on? Why are you up the coast and where up the coast exactly are you?”
“Well, I’m at the Arbour Inn north of Santa Barbara. When I get writer’s block, I usually just get in the car and drive north.”
“Ok, but that doesn’t explain why you didn’t let me or Sam know and why you have repeatedly been ignoring my texts and my phone calls. You do remember only a few weeks ago, you were shot by a crazy stalker?”
I walked to the garden doors and stepped out onto the balcony. The sun had nearly fully set and the view was spectacular. I wished he could be there sharing in it with me.
“Listen, Finn. I panicked ok? I hadn’t heard much more than a few words from you in a week and I was so blocked with my book, that I panicked and got in my car and drove. I did some writing and then went out for dinner. While I was out for dinner, the waitress put on an entertainment show and one of their stories was about you.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to call you about.”
“It was a story about you and your current co-star and yes, you looked amazing together and I hadn’t had that with you and I lost my mind. But, I know better. I know the press twist and manipulate, but Finn, it’s hard. It’s hard to watch someone you care about and who you thought cared about you, making out with a perfect, beautiful actress. Add that to the fact I haven’t seen you in two weeks and only spoke with you a handful of times, and I’m back to doubting us.”
I took a deep breath and decided to finish here and now so he could hear it all. “It hurt, Finn. More than I wanted it to. My careful distance isn’t maintained anymore. You’re getting inside my bubble and it’s making me re-evaluate things.”
“Things?”
“Yeah, things.”
“Like what kind of things, George?”
The way he said my name I could tell he was barely controlling what he really wanted to say to me. “Well, us, what’s going on with us, where we go from this point. I don’t know. Things.” I was practically shouting at him. He didn’t deserve the shouting. I was losing it and this is what he did to me.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening to me. You make me lose control and it’s so not cool.”
“Are you done?”
I let the silence hang there while I contemplated all that small sentence could and did mean. Was I done? Was I walking away? I whispered my reply, “maybe?”
“Fuck George. Stop being such a wish washy fraidy cat.“ I sucked in a deep breath. “No, don’t get all riled up again.” He lowered his voice about ten notches and what he said next hit me so hard I was completely off balance. “You’re so afraid to live again, baby. You’re pushing me away and I was afraid this might happen. I deliberately gave you space and time to come to your own conclusions about what we are and where we’re going from here. George, I knew that footage would seal my fate, I just didn’t know which seal I was going to get. I can’t be with someone who can’t trust me. I’m a celebrity. I am followed relentlessly by paparazzi trying their best to sensationalize my most boring, mundane tasks. What you saw tonight was someone leaking pictures from the set, yes, but the cameras were rolling. We were filming a scene. I can’t stop thinking about you, George. Day and night. I’m an idiot at work, messing lines, grinning like a fool when I’m supposed to be killing someone. I’m crazy for you but I’m in this relationship too and I need a girlfriend who gets me and embraces us. I’m intense when it comes to my relationships and that’s why I haven’t had many. I’m also intense when I am working which means sometimes, I can go days without talking to the outside world. I’m all in or I’m out. I was all in for the past month, George, but I know you’re not and that’s not good enough for me.”
He stopped for a minute and I knew I had screwed up. This man was everything I was looking for but I couldn’t be honest with him or myself. I was scared. He was too perfect. He was hot, sexy, artistic, romantic, intelligent and gave me space and let me be independent. And trusted me with his heart and I just stomped all over that trust. The truth was, he was a better fit for me than Connor and that’s what I was grappling with the most. The tremendous guilt I felt over falling for someone who was my match in more ways than he had ever been.
“George, you still there?” he asked.
“I need you Finn.” Tears were now streaming down my face. “I need you more than I have ever needed anyone and that scares me. I can’t let myself need you. It’s hard to explain, but I have to ‘cause I can’t let you go without trying to make you understand.” I took a deep breath and calmed myself down.
“When I met you that day in the
restaurant, it was the lamest thing ever, but I felt like I could see life in
your eyes. I was just coasting through my life. You hit me on the head Finn.
Literally and figuratively. But I’m a chicken shit. What you are to me scares
me. You see, when I lost Connor, I made a vow to never love someone the way I
loved him. Along comes Finn Lowry. Hot, sexy, smart, caring, creative and
smiling that amazing smile at me. The more I got to know you, the more things
I began to love about you, and this week, it hit me like a ton of bricks.” I
took a deep breath. Might as well lay it all out there. I didn’t have much
left to lose.
“I had somehow, somewhere along the way, fallen for you, like deeply. And not
only that, I was falling harder and faster than I ever had with Connor and I
was appalled at myself for leaving him behind.”
“Finn, are you still there?”
“Yeah, babe, still here.” His voice sounded strained and odd. I heard a zipper zip and various other noises, but didn’t hear him again.
“Ok. Well, so, that’s it. That’s what’s going on inside this totally screwed up head. My shrink heard this whole tale this week and encouraged me to tell you, but I was more scared of your reaction. Guys aren’t always offering up good reactions to professions of desires, let alone comparisons to deceased husbands. We hardly know each other. You don’t know the first thing about me that really matters. It’s so ridiculous and I can’t believe I just said all those things to you. I won’t blame you if you run screaming the other direction. Really, Finn. I get that things probably just got weird.”
I decided that I needed to stop talking. My mouth was leading me in directions I never ever wanted to venture down. “Ok, Finn, I’m just going to give you some time to process all of this and I’m going to head to bed.” Silence. I hated silence and even though I was a complete introvert, I always felt the need to fill the void with mindless babbling. This time however, I stopped myself from making an even bigger fool out of myself.
“Ok, George, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna hang up and take a deep breath. Then we’re going to start over, once again but for the last time. I’m not walking away, but I need what you just gave me, all the time. I want to elaborate, but I want to do it in person. Come back, baby.”
“I can’t. In the morning, I promise. I’m too tired to drive and I had a beer or three at dinner. Besides, this view is something I need to see in the morning. My block is itching to be released and I think the verandah is just the place I need to be in order to save my book.”
“Ok, makes sense. Text me when you are leaving tomorrow please? ‘K?” He sounded off, weary and sad at the same time.
“Ok.” I was doing all I could to hold in the tears, but they were so close to falling over that I decided to end the call quickly before I could decide if I had royally fucked this relationship up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Finn.”
“Tomorrow, darling.”