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chapter forty one

i'm wonderstruck, blushing all the home

“ I want to take you somewhere.”

Finn’s voice pulled my attention from the book on mylap. I’d crept out onto the porch just before the sun rose and had been swinging aimlessly on the porch swing ever since. When I looked up, the first thing I noticed was the light in his eyes—a vivid, almost electric green I hadn’t seen in a while. His cheeks were kissed with the cold, and his whole presence carried this quiet, magnetic happiness.

It was hard to describe. But I know the last time I saw itwas when he told me he loved me. And the time before that was after the recital. Come to think of it, he looked this way the first time I met him, too.

It was all in his smile. The way it curled at the edges, theway his hair sat kind of messy, like he’d barely run his fingers through it. Even the way his quarter zip was draped on him felt lighter somehow, like he wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for once.

If I had to pick a word I’d say he looked sunnier.

And I could pinpoint the change to the second we left thehospital yesterday evening. After being in the room with his Dad, with Jack, with Dais, and coming out with a smile I’d never seen him show the world.

I couldn’t help but smile back at him when the memoryflooded my mind, his excitement tugging at me. “Where would that be?” I asked, sliding my bookmarkinto place and tucking the book under the blanket draped over my legs.

His grin widened, a flicker of mischief flashing in hiseyes. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

I rolled my eyes but stood anyway, the blanket fallingaway and revealing my gingham pyjamas. It was barely seven in the morning—I had no reason to feel anything but sluggish—but something about Finn, about being here, made me feel alive.

I took a step closer, and he closed the distance, hishands gliding up my arms to settle gently on my shoulders. His touch was warm, and steady, sending little flutters through me as his nose brushed mine. “Sure, why not?” I whispered, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

His smirk lifted as he stole a quick kiss before resting hisforehead against mine. “Go get dressed. I’ll meet you by the truck.”

Before I could argue, he kissed the top of my head, andthe scent of his cologne—woodsy, warm, him—made me linger for just a second longer. Then, reluctantly, I broke away and jogged to the room I was sharing with Daisy.

Not five minutes later, I was bouncing down the steps ofthe porch, my breath puffing in little clouds in the chilly morning air. I ’d pulled on the only pair of jeans I owned, paired with a chunky cream cardigan with sleeves that practically swallowed my hands. A pink scarf and matching earmuffs completed the look, and my braids stuck out beneath them in a mess of unplanned charm.

Finn hadn’t moved from where he leaned against histruck, his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his blue jeans and that beat-up Carhartt jacket, but somehow he made it look annoyingly good. The hat he’d given me our ride around the ranch the other day sat low over his messy hair, the suede brim shadowing his grin as he watched me approach.

The butterflies in my stomach went rogue, and I had toconcentrate on not tripping over my own feet as I got closer. My cheeks were already flushed from the breeze, but the way Finn’s eyes swept over me made me feel like I was on fire.

He pushed off the truck, his hands sliding into his jacketpockets. “Ready?”

“I would be if you told me where you’re taking me,” Iteased, trying to sound nonchalant, but my voice wavered just enough to betray me.

Finn’s grin turned boyish, the kind that made me want to both melt and punch his arm. “Patience, Greene.”

His hand brushed mine as he opened the truck door, andthe butterflies turned into a full-on stampede. Whatever he had planned, I had a feeling it was going to be worth the early rise.

The drive was quiet, but not the awkward kind. For somereason he tested me on French complimentary words, just to make sure I knew them, he said. He kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on my thigh the entire time, while the soft hum of Glen Campbell played from the radio.

I didn’t ask where we were going. But I had a feeling Ialready knew.

It wasn’t until we passed the sign for Cotton Drive thatmy stomach twisted, a mix of nostalgia, dread and fear bubbling up in my chest. I think the only reason why I was scared was because of the image of this place I’d painted in my mind. It was still a white and sage dream in my head, not an inch of chipped paint, no rotting wood, and trees that were oddly always bare.

I took a moment for myself before we drove onto theestate, then opened my eyes to see my childhood.

The trees lining the street were still bare, the morning sun casting long shadows that danced along the road. And when we rounded the last corner, the house came into view.

My house.

Or at least, it used to be.

The truck slowed, tyres crunching on the gravel as Finneased to a stop. Neither of us spoke.

The place looked abandoned. The shutters hung crooked, the porch sagged, and the once-vivid white paint had dulled to a tired grey.

Finn cut the engine but didn’t move, his eyes catchingmine. He must have seen something in my expression because his voice was soft when he spoke. “According to Grandpa, no one ever moved in after your dad left.”

I couldn’t answer. My gaze stayed locked on the house,memories crashing over me in waves. Birthdays on that porch. Stargazing from the attic window. Mom cheering me on from the top step as I skated on the lake.

I didn’t know whether to cry or smile, so I think my bodychose both.

Finn shifted beside me, rubbing the back of his neck.“Shit, I should’ve asked before bringing you here. I’m sorry—”

“No, no.” My voice broke, but I shook my head, turning to him. “I’m okay.” A small, hesitant smile tugged at my lips. “Why did you bring me here?”

He studied me for a moment, his green eyes warm. “You said the other morning that this time of day—just before sunrise—was your favourite. That you’d come out here and skate.”

I nodded, my throat tightening.

“And I thought,” he continued, his voice quieter, “withsectionals coming up, maybe you’d want this memory. To remind you that choosing skating—choosing yourself—was the best decision you ever made.”

My chest ached, swelling with love so deep it almost hurt. I turned my gaze to the lake, and sure enough, it was frozen solid—just as it always was this time of year. Yet, somehow, the sight of it still caught me off guard, like some distant part of me had convinced itself the ice wouldn’t form without its skater gliding across it.

It was a silly thought, really. And yet, there was something about it—something quiet, something aching—that felt almost comforting. As if the lake was simply waiting for me to come back.

Bef ore I could overthink it, I leaned across the seats, cupping Finn's face in my hands. I kissed him, pouring every word I couldn’t say into the press of my lips.

Finn kissed me back just as fervently, his hand findingthe back of my neck to hold me closer. When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads touched, and I whispered, “Je t’aime.” 1

His smile widened, his eyes sparkling as his breathbrushed against my lips. “Je t’aime encore plus.” 2

The sunlight spilt through the truck’s windshield, goldenand warm, but I pulled back, worry lacing my smile. “I didn’t bring my skates.”

He raised a brow, his smirk pure mischief.

With a groan and his sweater rising just enough to showthe bottom of his abs as he stretched, he reached into the back seat, pulling out a gorgeous pair of baby pink skates, tied neatly with a satin ribbon.

I fell in love with him a little more when he smiled thistime. “I don’t know if you know this but you look beautiful in pink.” My jaw dropped as he held them out between us. “Merry Christmas, Bambi.”

“Finn…” My voice wavered as I took them, fingerstracing the soft leather. “I can’t take these. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He reached for my hands, folding thembetween his. “I don’t think you get how much I’ll do to never lose you again, Aurora.” His voice softened, his eyes searching mine. “I tried to forget you. I really did. But you were everywhere. In the songs I listened to in the shower. In the crowd at the rink even though I knew you weren’t there. Every time I saw something pink I thought of nothing else but you for the rest of that day.”

His fingers tightened around mine, like letting go wasn't anoption.

“There is no one in this world who deserves love morethan you, but for whatever reason the world likes to break your heart and I’m sorry about that.” His jaw clenched. “I’m sorry I was part of that. I hurt you when I should have been telling you how much I loved you and I will always be sorry about that.”

He pulled in a breath, slow, careful, like he was afraid ofwhat came next. Then, finally, he looked at me—really looked at me. “I’m not saying this to make up for letting you go. I’m saying it because I won’t let your heart break again. Not if I can help it.”

The tears spilt over before I could stop them. “Youknow that goes both ways, right?” I whispered. “The heartbreak thing.”

His smile was as soft as the light pouring through the windows, his thumb brushing over myknuckles.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I continued, my voicestronger now. “I promised myself I’d only do things that make me happy. And you, Finn—you make me happy.”

The moment his lips met mine, the world stopped. No, itvanished—faded into nothing, like it was never really there to begin with. It was just him now. Just the warmth of his hands, the press of his body, the way he kissed me like I was his first breath after drowning.

He moved like he was memorising me, like this was something sacred, something he needed to get right. His hands framed my face, gentle but certain. He wasn't afraid to not treat me like a teacup and I only kissed him harder for that. And when he pulled me closer, and tilted my head back just right, it wasn't just desperate—it was devotion. Like I'm his moon, his stars, the only thing that has ever made sense.

With every second, I felt it—how I was always meant tobe right here. With him.

As our breaths became breathless, our mouths slowed, ourhands settled, and as we pulled away our eyes met, dancing in whatever firelight still burned within them. It was as though the last few months caught up with me then, like I’d been floating through my life, and only now was I settling back into my body.

I had Finn. I didn’t have a dad. I had skating. I hadAspen. I didn’t have the pressure of trying to make someone else happy. I had Honeywood. I had friends who were by my side no matter what I chose to do with my life.

I had myself, and that was what brought on the ache of afresh round of tears.But like he had a sixth sense for these things, Finn’sthumb swiped at my under eyes. Calming me better than any morning skate ever could.

When we eventually stepped out of the truck, the cold bitat my cheeks, but I barely felt it with how blushed they were. The gravel crunched under our boots as we stood in front of the house, its faded exterior so full of memories I could barely breathe.

“I miss this house,” I said, my voice cracking as I lookedat the broken windows.

Finn slid his arm around my shoulders, pulling me intohis side. “I wonder why no one bought it.” His neck craned over his shoulder. “Insane view of Red Crow and Grizzly Mountain. The lake. Healthy fields and crop space.” he turned back to look at me. “It’s perfect.”

The answer hit me like a bolt, almost as harsh as thewind. “I know why,” Turning to him, my eyed widened. “Dad never sold it. After he passed, the estate people told me the house was still in his name. Which means…” Oh my God. “It’s mine.”

Finn didn’t hesitate. He grinned, brushing a strand of hairfrom my face. “I’ll make it yours someday. Truly yours.” His face lit up with the morning sun, excitement beaming off him. “Painting, renovating—whatever you want.”

I looked up at him, my heart thundering. “How about wemake it ours?”

His smile was blinding. “I’d like that, Ror.” He flicked my nose playfully. “But first, you’ve got a sectionals to win, Olympics to qualify for, and a sport to conquer.”

I quirked my brow. “How about we just focus onsectionals?”

His hands wre in the air as a laugh rippled out of him. “Hey, you’rethe one talking about moving in together! Excuse me for dreaming.”

Our laughs sang with the songbirds as they flew overhead, getting lost in the breeze sweeping around us. I stepped into Finn’s arms, wrapping myself around him like he was the only thing holding me steady. The wool of my scarf scratched against his jacket, but I didn’t care. “We’ve got so much time,” I whispered, letting the words settle in the space between us like a promise.

Finn tightened his arms around me, resting his chin on topof my head. His voice was soft but certain, the kind of certain I wanted to live in forever. “I have a feeling we have every lifetime to do what we want.” As if he needed a moment to think before he said it, he took a breath, before stealing mine. “You feel like a timeless kind of love.”

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my cheeksburning from the cold—or maybe just him. Probably him. “I’m banning you from saying things like that to me because I don’t know if my heart can handle it.”

His grin spread, lazy and confident, and somehow it wasboth infuriating and impossible to resist. “Your heart can handle anything, Aurora Greene,”

I shook my head, dropping it into his chest as he pulled mecloser, holding me so tight the ground could fall beneath us and I probably wouldn’t have felt a thing.

The sun peeked between the mountain ridges, andeverything turned to gold. The frozen lake shimmered, and after melting into him, soaking up the sun, I rushed down to its shore, yanking off my boots and slipping on my new skates. I was gliding across the ice in no time, and for once the cold didn't reach me. Finn’s laughter followed me, warm and loud, as he stumbled onto the ice, his arms outstretched for balance, his hockey skates laced up on his feet.

I spun to face him, sliding effortlessly, and I couldn’t stopsmiling. My chest felt so full it might burst. Finn was still laughing as he finally caught up to me, his hands finding my waist, pulling me close again.

And in that moment, beneath the endless sky and thegolden light of morning, I knew with everything in me that I’d be okay. I was living my life for me, while honouring the loves I’d lost along the way. And reclaiming the loves that I thought I’d never have the chance to let rule my heart.

I was home, and it had nothing the do with the housesitting behind us, and everything about the boy who was skating with me.

1. I love you.

2. I love you more.