Page 37 of Forever Finn
I completely understood his need for privacy and his reluctance to come out. Unlike James who wanted the best of both worlds, Finn was just trying to be true to himself in a world that wanted him to be someone else. I can’t even begin to imagine the pressure he was under to reconcile the two parts of himself, the private gay man, and the straight, macho public persona.
We were fooling ourselves thinking it could last, that we could build something hidden in the shadows, but it’s not in the shadows now. It’s all out in the open, and there will be so many who will be cruel and judgemental. So many who will tear him down, tear him apart just because they can.
I stare at the ceiling aimlessly, my heart beating out a dull tattoo against my ribs. I want to protect him more than anything. He’s had enough pain in his life, doesn’t he deserve a little peace? Doesn’t he deserve to be happy? Just because he’s famous does that somehow give him less rights?
Frustrated beyond measure, I throw the covers off me and swing my legs over the side of the bed, but I just can’t make myself get up. Instead, I sit on the edge of the bed with elbows resting on my knees and my head cradled in my hands.
I miss him.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I saw him last, but I have an awful gut feeling I’m never going to see him again. It’s a gut wrecking, nausea inducing feeling. I can’t stand the thought that I’ll never get to see him, or touch him, or hear him laugh again because… because… I’m pretty sure I know what this god-awful feeling is…. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.
Fuck.
I am such an idiot. I stupidly fell in love with him and the thought of him not being in my life is a thousand times more painful than anything James ever did to me.
Shit, everything’s such a mess. I know he’s got a lot of issues to work out with regards to the accident and Cody’s death, he’s got twenty years of guilt to wade through even though I don’t believe for one second he bears any responsibility for what happened. I so badly want to be there for him to help him make sense of it all, to help him heal, and watch him grow into the man I know he is.
I want that more than anything, more than staying in the bay, more than extending my contract with Jesse, hell more than going home to Toronto. I’d follow him anywhere if he’d let me. Something in my gut suddenly settles and a sense of peaceful purpose washes over me. I’m in love with Finn, and when I look forward to my future, I know I want him to be a part of it. Now I need to find out if he wants that too.
I need to talk to him. This can’t be the end. I have to at least try. If he genuinely doesn’t want me, I’ll walk away even if it breaks my heart, but I need to know. Filled with sudden purpose, I hurry from the bed, grabbing whatever clothes I can find and throwing them on. I have to find Finn and talk to him before he runs straight back to L.A. I stop long enough to brush my teeth and tie my hair back in a messy bun. Jogging down the stairs I shove my feet into the first pair of running shoes I can find and head out the door.
By the time I arrive at Reed’s place I can’t believe the media circus that greets me. News vans line the road along the usually quiet little cul-de-sac with people milling about across everyone’s lawns much to the consternation of Reed’s neighbours.
Having no other choice, I pull my hood up and duck my head down as I push my way through the crowd toward Reed’s front door. But after a moment, I realise I may have been overly optimistic about my chances because it takes them about twenty seconds to recognise me from the photo.
“Hey what’s your name?”
“Are you Finn’s boyfriend?”
“How long have you been fucking him behind Skylar’s back?”
“Did she know?”
“Did she join in?”
“Do you share her?”
Fucking hell, they’re relentless, and this is just a fraction of what Finn has to put up with? As I reach Reed’s, the door swings open and a pair of hands grab me, yanking me over the threshold and slamming the door behind me. Once inside, I look up to find Reed staring at me partly in exasperation, partly in amusement.
“You’re either really brave or really dumb.” He shakes his head.
“The Jury’s still out on that one.” I shift over and peer out the window. “How the hell did they find your place?”
“Someone must’ve talked.” Reed scratches his chin. “Did the press find your place?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve been lucky so far. Where’s Finn? I need to talk to him.” Reed’s expression softens, his eyes fill with sympathy, and I feel my stomach drop. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“I’m sorry, Wyatt. I tried to get him to talk to you before he left, but he’s panicking, he’s in fight or flight mode. He got outed before he was ready, and from what I’ve seen online, they’re already tearing him to shreds.”
“I know I’ve seen some of it,” I murmur, my heart aching for him.
Reed blows out a long, troubled breath. “I had no idea he was carrying all that crap about Cody. I should’ve been a better friend.”
“Reed, you had no way of knowing.”
“I wish I knew how to help him.” He frowns. “I can tell him Cody’s death wasn’t his fault until I’m blue in the face, but he’s got to believe it.”
“It’s going to take time.” I reach out and squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. “Just be there for him. You’re his oldest friend, and the only other one who knew Cody like he did. If anyone can help him through this, it’s you.”