Page 25 of The Moment Promised

If Jason were still here, would she have started in the first place? No, something else would have been killing her instead—Jason’s abuse.

But if he had never been in the equation to start with, if she had met a better guy, then maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to escape reality.

Maybe if I had said something, did something…

It’s too late. No matter if any of those thoughts are true, it’s still too late.

I try not to think about how I haven’t seen Finn in a week, as I stare up at my ceiling fan. The whirling puts me in a trance as I recall everything that happened the last time we were together.

The fake proposal…the kiss…the way I wanted it to happen again on the beach.

Maybe a week is what I needed to get over these ridiculous feelings.

But I can’t help but feel like I’ve wasted the gift of time we’ve been granted. Before I know it, he’ll be driving back up to college.

Without me.

I grab my phone off my nightstand. The light from the screen illuminates my bedroom. It’s already three in the morning and I haven’t gotten any sleep.

I accept this is going to be another night of insomnia, so I click on Instagram and scroll for a few minutes.

A video of a dolphin retrieving someone’s phone who dropped it off the side of a boat makes me laugh, so I send it to Finn. His username is green, meaning he is online too. A jolt of excitement electrifies my stomach.

I blame it on my sleep deprivation.

@Adeline.miller: You’re up late.

@Finn_Walker03: I always stay up late. You on the other hand should’ve been tucked in 5 hours ago.

@Adeline332: Too much on my mind.

@Finn_Walker03: Cold Cow is open 24/7. I’ll pick you up in 5 minutes.

He’s right on time. Horizontal lights luminate through my blinds. I grab my purse, slip on some sandals, and climb out the window.

I wave at the blacked-out windows of Finn’s car, and when I grab the door handle—Honk!

A loud screech leaves my mouth before I’m leaning down to glare through the window. I can’t see anything through the tints.

Honk!

“I have sleeping neighbors!” I whisper-scream so he can hear me from inside his car. I pull the door handle, but it’s locked.

He must let his foot off the brakes because the car rolls forward a foot.

I sigh. Let’s try this again. Before I can yank the handle, he moves forward. Again.

Third time’s a charm. When I pull the handle, the door finally opens. I fall into the leather seat and Finn’s raspy laughter fills the air.

“You’re not funny,” I say without humor.

“Oh, I’m hilarious. You get all red and cute when you’re flustered.” He continues to laugh.

Surely his use of the word cute means something completely different than the way my heart took it. I’ll be looking up the technical definition later, just to be sure.

He shifts gears and backs out of my driveway. I turn up the volume. The playlist I made for him is playing, and the music puts me at ease.

He turns it up even louder, so even my own thoughts can’t be heard. It’s a nice change for once.

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