Page 40 of Forever Finn

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter as I stare at the wall of my hotel room.

“Ignoring it is not going to make it all magically disappear,” she says calmly.

“I just can’t,” I whisper, feeling the deep well of misery pooling in my stomach.

“Yes, you can.” She strokes my leg again. “That’s why I’m here, so you don’t have to do this alone. We always knew this day would come, and we made an agreement. Both of us or neither of us.”

I turn over and look at her sharply. “You’re thinking of coming out?”

She lets out a slow breath and kicks her heels off, crawling onto the Queen-sized bed beside me and rolling onto her side to face me.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, Finn,” she says contemplatively. “I’ve seen you struggling and it’s not fair. You need to be free to live your life, and you can’t do that while we’re living a lie. You can’t tell me you didn’t want something more with Wyatt? I heard it in your voice every time you talked about him.” She reaches out and strokes her fingers across my cheek lovingly. “I’ve never seen you so happy, Finn, so at peace with yourself, and that’s all I want for you.”

“Not at your expense though.” I frown.

“Not my expense, my choice,” she says firmly. “This has got to stop, for all of us. We shouldn’t have to officially come out no matter how we identify. Our orientation shouldn’t have to be managed by PR teams and management. Straight people don’t have to jump through the hoops we’re expected to. We’ve unintentionally indulged this in our industry by hiding and being afraid, but someone has to take a stand, especially for the younger ones coming up behind us. When I was first starting out, I hadn’t fully figured out who I was. I was constantly told,be this,do thisor you won’t succeed. Those days are over. I’m comfortable with who I am. I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“I wish I was as brave as you,” I murmur as I reach for her hand and entwine my fingers with hers.

“You are, Finn.” She smiles softly. “You know what’s holding you back.” I stare into her eyes as my heart gives a sad remorseful thud. “It’s time to let Cody go.”

“Sky,” I begin but stop abruptly.

There’s no point in trying to deny it, especially not to Skylar. She’s the one person in the world I never lie to and never keep secrets from. As soon as I left Reed’s place the other night, I called her and told her exactly what happened with Cody all those years ago along with what had happened at the barbecue. She, of course had not been shocked at the photo’s that had been leaked to the press as she’d had a front row seat to my fling with Wyatt since day one, but once I’d told her all about Cody it had certainly helped her put together a lot of the pieces of me she’d discovered over the years of our friendship.

“I want to,” I admit. “But I don’t know how to.”

“We could all tell you that the accident wasn’t your fault,” she said carefully. “But I think you’ll always carry some guilt with you, it’s just human nature. I think you shocked him that night when you kissed him, but from what you’ve told me of Cody, who he was and the friendship you shared, I don’t think he would have held it against you if he didn’t feel the same way. Of course, we’ll never know, but I think he cared about you deeply. I don’t believe, if he really was the man you say he was, that he would want you to keep punishing yourself for the rest of your life. It’s okay to be happy, Finn.”

“I think it’s too late for that,” I murmur.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” She smiles slowly.

“Who?”

“You know who… Wyatt.” She watches me carefully. “You should tell him.”

“That’s not…” I shake my head. “I–I can’t.”

“Why not?” she says reproachfully. “You just ran out on him without so much as a goodbye. Don’t you think you owe him a conversation at the very least?”

“Maybe… okay, yes.” I frown. “At the very least, I owe him an apology, but I’m not going to be declaring my undying love anytime soon.”

“Why?” she says simply.

“Why?” I blink. “Why? Because it was only ever supposed to be casual? Because he’s not in love with me? Because he doesn’t want a relationship with me?”

“How do you know?” she continues relentlessly. “Have you asked him?”

“I don’t need to.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “Didn’t you hear me say it was only ever supposed to be casual?”

“So?”

“So?” I repeat. “Haven’t you heard a word I said?”

“I heard you say it was supposed to be casual. You went into this wanting to explore your sexuality with someone you trusted, and you fell in love. Your feelings changed, so is it so hard to believe his might have too?”

I can’t deny the little spark of hope that flares in my chest before my pessimism once again takes the driver’s seat.