Page 81 of When The Rain Falls

“Alicia. Cake. Cake is a good soccer snack, right?” I look up at her pleadingly. But my heart is asking a different question.Am I someone a person could love?

“Well—”

“Cake,” I remind myself of the topic at hand and blink back tears. “That’s what trail runners eat. At least the ones I follow.” I sniffle to bring the congestion back up my nostrils. “The ones who run fifty and a hundred mile races. I figured if it was good for them, then it would be good for soccer. Because you run a lot in soccer. And everyone loves cake.”

And no one loves me.

“Aimee, why are you packing soccer snacks? I think I missed something here.” Alicia shifts Logan on her hip. I reach both hands out to him. He smiles, leans towards me, and lets me take him. He’s so squishy, and chubby, and he smells so good. I cuddle him up against me and try to hold back the tears.

“I wanted to help,” I mutter. Because I’m not going to explain thatjealousymade me do it. And isn’t it ironic. I was jealous of Maggie, when the whole time, the real threat was someone else entirely. Someone who isn’t even here. How do I compete with that? With a ghost? With a memory? With someone who was probably perfect.

“Help with what?”

“Help…” I have to gulp before I can say his name out loud. Because when his name passes across my lips, my chest still flutters wildly. It’s stupid. “Help Finn. For Vivian’s soccer team.”

Alicia takes a moment to study me. I recognize the familiar look of concern on her face. “Maybe you’re spending too much time across the street. Maybe you should just focus on yourself for a bit,” she suggests. Here we go again. More lectures. More criticism.

I don’t answer her. Because I have nothing to tell her. Nothing except that I don’t want to spend time focusing on myself. Because that will just remind me that I’m alone. And years of chasing fun has made my life shallow and empty. I didn’t realize how truly shallow my life had been until I metFinn. And he pulled a little curtain back, exposing the depth of his heart and now I ache. I ache to have that. Just a piece of it.

Logan grabs my nose and laughs. It’s a bright, contagious belly laugh that rocks his entire body against mine.

“Logie, buddy,” I coo softly. I lift up his shirt and blow a raspberry. A tear falls down my face and lands on his belly. I watch the evidence of my sadness bead against his smooth baby skin. Logan doesn’t even register it. He just laughs harder and grabs my cheeks with cold, wet fingers. I’m kind of getting used to that. To his slobbery, grasping touches. I smile at him and realize that it’s really hard to be sad when a baby is belly laughing in your arms.

“The bags are cute,” Alicia finally says. She lifts one up and inspects it. I can tell she’s choosing her next words carefully. And I’m grateful for that because I feel like I’m on the verge of tears again. “You know, honestly, I’m not sure about the cake. I don’t think soccer moms have the same appreciation for cake as trail runners. But tomorrow, I can help you pick out soccer-appropriate snacks if you’d like?”

“Really?” I ask, wiping away the single wet tear that’s managed to trickle from my eye.

“Sure,” she says. “Of course.”

“Oh my gosh. Thank you.”

“Do you know if anyone is gluten free? Or have allergies?” Alicia asks me. She must see the deer in the headlights look on my face because she quickly follows her comment up with, “We can pick out something for everybody.”

I lay on my back and stare at the ceiling. I can’t sleep. My head kind of hurts. And that feeling of loneliness is creeping backover me. Plus, my window literally faces into Finn’s living room. Kinda hoping he’ll start vacuuming again.

No, Aimee! Bad girl.

I’ve been pathetically swiveling my head in that direction at the tiniest bit of movement. Errant falling leaf? Swivel. Shadow across the ground outside? Swivel. Lights flickering on in his living room? Swivel.

Wait.Lights flickeringon in his living room.

I sit up and peer through the window. Trying to make sense of the shadows and reflections. My eyes sharpen around his unmistakable outline. His hands on his hips in that familiar, broody stance. And, for a moment or two, there’s just the two of us. Shadows in the windows.

I put my hand against the glass. It’s cold, but I force myself to press into it. Because I need to feel something right now. To remind myself that I’m still here even when no one really sees me. Whenhedoesn’t really see me.

I remember what it feels like to have his steady chest against my palm. The comforting rhythm of his heart beat. We’re so close and yet, we might as well be miles apart. Cities apart. Years apart. Lifetimes apart. And still, every part of my body is aching for him. For the hidden kindness in his eyes. The protection of his arms. The way he made me believe…

The man gave me butterflies. And those butterflies turned into wasps.

His outline hasn’t moved from the window. I notice the tilt of his head. And this reveals something new. He’s watching me. Just like I’m watching him.

Why is he watching me?

Finn’s outline shifts. Then I see his face light up with a subtle glow. And then my phone vibrates in my pocket.

Why is he calling me?

The nameFinn Hugsonflashes across the screen. I hover my finger over theacceptbutton. Finn Hudson dollops hurt and pleasure with equal measure. And apparently, I’m a glutton for both. Because I find my finger pressingacceptdespite my better judgment.

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