I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.
However long it takes.
You’re worth the wait.
chapter
TWENTY-NINE
Liv balanced a bag of takeout in one hand and her camera equipment in the other. After Finn had left town and not responded to her message, she’d needed to zone out and get behind the lens. Not think. Not obsess. Just be at peace with the message she’d sent him no matter the outcome.
She’d spent the last three days taking photos and working on building her website. Olivia Arias, artist and photographer. Seeing the heading on the site had given her butterflies but also filled her with purpose. She’d booked two more sessions with survivors. She didn’t know if anything would come of that project, but she had to do it anyway. Even if no one would ever see it, she felt called to complete it.
This afternoon, she’d had lunch with Taryn and then snapped photos of the school until the sun had gone down and stolen her light.
Busy was good. Busy was keeping her sane. She wasn’t shocked Finn hadn’t responded. They hadn’t exactly walked away from each other with the nicest words. But she had faith a response would eventually come. Probably not the one she wanted. He’d told her when he left that he wouldn’t ask her to wait. He wasn’t a man who easily changed his mind. But he wouldn’t be cruel and leave her hanging indefinitely. She knew that much.
She frowned at the doorway, realizing too late that she needed to get the key out of her purse and had no available hand to do it. With a sigh, she set her food and equipment at her feet and dug into her purse, looking for the house key.
As soon as she got her fingers on it, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She groaned. At this rate, she was never going to get to eat her beef lo mein.
It had to be one of her friends checking on her. They were mother-henning her pretty hard-core. She had a feeling they were having nightly phone powwows to determine who would casually check on Liv this time. It was sweet. Exhausting, but sweet. She let the key fall back into her purse and grabbed for her phone.
The crickets sang around her, and she peered at the screen. It was bright in the dark, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust and read the notification on the screen.
But her brain registered the name first. Her heart gave a sharp kick. Finn.
Finn: I don’t want you to wait.
She stared at the words, her hope plummeting and her lungs deflating in a crush of defeat.
She’d thought she prepared herself for this kind of response, knew in her heart Finn wasn’t going to ask her to put her life on hold for him. But still, seeing the words in black and white was like a judge’s gavel slamming in her ear. Decision had been rendered. Thank you for stopping by. Please leave the court.
Tears pricked her eyes and she dragged in a ragged breath, trying to keep the pieces of herself together. She’d be okay. She’d get through this.
Probably.
Maybe.
Her phone vibrated again.
She looked down through blurred vision.
Finn: Because I won’t survive waiting for you.
She frowned, trying to process the message, but a noise drew her attention upward. She looked toward the house, instantly on alert.
The porch light came on, and the door cracked open. She shoved her free hand in her purse, grappling for her mace but grabbing a hairbrush instead. She held it out in front of her as if it could protect her. But then a man stepped out onto the porch. All six feet of dark-haired, sexy, familiar man.
The hairbrush and her phone slipped from her fingers and clattered to the porch floor. She stared, lips parted.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Finn.” It was the only word she could manage. Her brain had forgotten how to work, but her legs managed to move her forward. She stopped in front of him, looking up, almost afraid she was imagining him.
He smiled, pain there at the edges, and cradled her face. “I got your message.”
“You—” She licked her lips, tried to find her voice. “That was days ago. I thought…”