Page 64 of Something Unforgettable

After thirty minutes of fidgeting and trying not to wrinkle his shirt, Finn gave up and started for the restaurant. It was drizzling so he grabbed an umbrella. He was pretty sure the shirt was dry-clean only and he didn’t want to melt the product Izzy had put in his hair.

The walk to the restaurant wasn’t that long. Finn wasn’t sure what to do when he arrived early, but figured waiting at the table would be more comfortable than hovering in the doorway to stay out of the rain.

He gave the name DeCain at the host stand and was led to a booth in a quiet back corner. The lighting was dim, with candles on the tables and white tablecloths. There was soft music playing over the low murmur of diners chatting and silverware clinking against plates. The food smelled amazing, and his stomach rumbled approvingly. The hostess dropped off menus and let him know she would bring Xavier back as soon as he arrived.

Finn settled in the booth to wait. It wasn’t the kind of restaurant he would have chosen on his own, but he could see why Xavier had. The booth was private, and they would be able to talk without needing to raise their voices.

Someone came by and filled the water glasses.

Finn tried not to fidget. The waiting was the worst. It reminded him of things he’d rather not think about. Times that—no. He checked his phone. Still five minutes before Xavier was supposed to be here. He took a picture of the menu and sent it to Ev.

The ice shifted in Xavier’s glass. A bead of condensation rolled down and soaked into the tablecloth. Finn concentrated on his breathing. He regretted getting here early now. He looked at his phone again. Ev hadn’t replied yet. And nothing from Xavier.

Finn’s heart thumped; his chest felt heavy. Xavier wasn’t late. It was only two minutes past their reservation time and he was driving all the way from the airport. Then he would have to find parking.

The waiter came by with a bread basket and a plate of tiny, gold-wrapped pats of butter. Finn grabbed one of the rolls, just for something to do with his hands. Xavier would be here soon. This wasn’t his old nightmare. He wasn’t thirteen again, waiting for a birthday dinner that never happened.

People were probably staring. They had the last time. Then the whispers had started. Finn kept his eyes on the table as he tore off a chunk of bread. Were they wondering what he was doing, dressed up but all alone? He checked again. Ten minutes late.

Finn should call, but he couldn’t make his fingers press the button. He didn’t want to look dramatic. Maybe Xavier got held up at the airport or in traffic. Ten minutes was nothing for a normal person. Finn wished he was normal.

But what if something had happened? Xavier wouldn’t leave him sitting here without a good reason. He wasn’t like that. And besides, he’d promised that Finn was important. He wouldn’t forget him.

It was raining. Could he have been in an accident? Finn clutched his phone. He would still call, though, right? Maybe his phone was dead. Finn swiped at the dampness on his cheeks. He wasn’t going to break down over this. It was fifteen minutes. Xavier would be here soon and Finn refused to be caught crying over something so stupid.

Five more minutes and it was all Finn could do not to run out of the restaurant. He couldn’t breathe around the lump in his throat, and his eyes ached from the tears that kept welling up. His hands were shaking, and the roll was nothing more than a pile of breadcrumbs on the little white plate. His blank phone screen stared up at him, taunting him. He couldn’t check it again, because if he did and there was still nothing—no texts, no missed calls—this would all be real.

He should leave. It was absurd to keep sitting here by himself. The table was near the back. Maybe there was a door past the bathrooms that he could sneak out through and no one would see him. No one would notice him leave. They never did.

He was gathering his courage to do just that when there was a commotion near the front of the restaurant.

“Finn!”

Finn’s head jerked up. Xavier was striding toward him, his hair and jacket soaked, a wild look on his face.

“Sir,” the hostess called, hurrying after him. “Can I get you a towel? Take your coat?”

Xavier waved her off as he came to a stop and dropped to his knees next to Finn, his big hands cold as they cupped Finn’s hot, wet cheeks.

“Oh, fuck. Sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Finn stared, his mind reeling, his heart racing. Xavier was here. He came. He was late, but he came.

“Why—why are you wet?” he asked, his voice thick with tears.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. My GPS told me the back roads were faster, but my rental got a flat tire. When I finally swapped it out, I got stuck behind some idiot who missed the ‘no trucks’ sign. He could barely make the turns without driving off the road and I couldn’t get around him. It honestly felt like I could have walked here faster.”

Finn was smiling a little by the end of Xavier’s frustrated rant. “You were on 221? That road is terrible.” He swiped at his eyes again, trying to make the stupid tears stop already. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I tried. I didn’t have anyfucking reception.”

Just then, Finn’s phone started vibrating against the table with a stream of incoming messages. He watched it as it danced closer to the edge, then put his hand on it before it could fall. He checked the screen. Three missed texts and five missed calls. All from Xavier. Suddenly, it started ringing.

“Hi Micah,”

“Finn, hi,” Micah said. “Did Xavier make it? He got stuck with a flat tire but he couldn’t get you on the phone.”

Finn looked into Xavier’s tired eyes. At his forehead creased with stress.

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