Page 101 of Falling for Her

“Haven’t felt the greatest,” I admit.

“Everything okay?”

“From the outside, everything is fine.” I take a sip. “On the inside, man”—I shake my head—“I miss her.” Confusion fills his face. “Finley,” I clarify. His eyes widen, and I know she hasn’t even brought me up to Collins, or else he would know. “Yup.” I finish the drink. “I fell for her.” That is putting it mildly. Since she left, I’ve accepted that I’ve fallen head over heels in love with her.

“Oh fuck. That’s⁠—”

“It’s fine.” I put the empty glass down and look at Brady, motioning that I need the bill. He shoos me off as he takes another order. “I’m going to head home.”

“Burke,” Theo starts.

“I’m good,” I assure, tapping the bar and then turning to leave, going home to my memories.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

FINLEY

I think about how my walk-in closet is the size of two bedrooms as I look through the summer part of my wardrobe. I select a pair of light-pink pants, then look through shirts, one after the other, until I see the silk long-sleeved wraparound blouse with pink, blue, yellow, and turquoise. I place it on the island in the middle of the closet before I pick out my lacy panties with a matching bra.

The pants fit my hips snugly as the legs flow to the floor. I slip the shirt off the hanger and slide one hand into the sleeve, and then the other. The cuffs are tight at the wrist, so the sleeves look oversized. It crisscrosses in the front, and I tie the sash in a bow on the right side. I move to the mirror and inspect my reflection. My makeup is expertly applied to hide the bags under my eyes from not sleeping properly. My hair lies over my shoulder, freshly washed and blown out by my stylist, who comes over every third day.

In my shoe-and-purse room, I pick sandals that are light green and cream. Sliding one foot inside, I tie it around my ankle. The peep-toes show off the fresh pedicure I had two days ago.

I’ve been home for two weeks now, and I do exactly what I did before I left, except now I feel hollow doing it. In the mornings, I sit on the couch and watch the shows I used to watch with Asa, trying to somehow feel close to him.

I finish tying the second shoe and call Collins, moving to grab one of my purses.

“Hey,” she answers.

“Hey, yourself. How you doing?”

“I’m good.” She sighs. “Getting bigger and bigger.”

“Well, that is what happens when you’re carrying a human.” I chuckle and sit on the floor, crossing my legs in front of me and putting the phone on the carpet.

“We just left the doctor, and all is good,” she says, filling me in. “Except, well, the baby is in the ninety-fifth percentile, so he’s going to have a big head.”

“He? I thought you weren’t finding out what you’re having.”

“Oh, we didn’t. I call the baby he and Theo calls the baby she.”

I smile. “How is Theo doing?”

“Busy. The bakery is finally going to expand.” She goes on, filling me in on the town. I ache to ask her how Lincoln is doing. How Asa is. Did he start school yet? Is he still riding? I want to know it all, except it’s more than that. I want to be there. I want to wake up and have breakfast outside in that backyard. I want to go to the bakery and say hello to everyone because I know who they are and not just because I’m polite.

I went to the nearest coffee shop the other day, the same place I’ve always gone, and didn’t know a single fucking soul in the whole place. I looked people dead in the eyes, and they just stared back at me, not a warm bone in their bodies.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Collins says. “I have to be at work in ten minutes, and I’m waddling.”

“Okay,” I say, sad that my lifeline to the town is going to be closed when we say goodbye. “Call me when you can.”

“I will. I miss you, by the way.”

I blink and look down, my bottom lip quivering. “I miss you too,” I say softly, “more than you know.” I use my thumb to wipe the tear from the corner of my eye. “Talk soon,” I sniffle softly, “be safe.” I hang up the phone before I cave in and tell her how sad I am, how my whole body feels broken and empty. Before I cave in and ask her if she’s seen Lincoln and if he’s okay.

As I put my phone in my purse, it beeps in my hand. Taylor has texted that my car is waiting for me out front. I grab the purse and head out, my heels clicking on the marble tiles as I cross to the elevator.

Sure enough, my silver Mercedes is waiting at the curb. “Thank you, Taylor.”