Page 47 of Guy's Girl
“Oh, do you? Do I keep you up at night?”
“More than you know.”
She tries to step around him again, but Finch reaches out and takes her elbow. Her breath catches. She knows she should push him away, but— “What?”
“Just—” He glances about the living room. “Here. Sit down.” He heads for the bar cart and pours two glasses of whiskey. Hands one to her. “Tell me what happened.”
She thinks of telling him no. Of telling him to fuck off and go find Hannah. That’s what he’s always done, right? But that would get her nothing. Instead, she sinks onto the couch and takes a sip of whiskey. It’s a sultry burn, different from vodka or tequila. “He doesn’t want to be with me.”
Finch’s eyes bunch together with pity. This is how he is—theatrical in his displays of emotion. “I’m sorry, Gin.”
“It hurts.”
“I know it does.”
“I just—” She tilts back the tumbler, downing all the whiskey in one go. “I’m sick of it, you know? Sick of being the one that no one ever chooses.”
Finch looks down. Silence roils between them, but Ginny doesn’t care. Let him feel bad. Let him know how badly he hurt her.
“I lied to you,” he says softly. “That night senior year. I lied.”
“You—” She pauses. “What?”
“When you said you liked me. I lied. I... I did feel the same way.” He sets his glass on his knee. “God, of course I felt the same way, Gin.”
“Then why—?”
“That morning, Hannah and I had just talked on the phone and agreed to give it another go.” He swallows. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t tell you without betraying her.”
She shakes her head. “That doesn’t— I don’t—”
“I know.” His eyes—they’re so familiar, like little circles of driftwood. “I regretted it the minute you walked out the door.”
Her chest is heaving now, air spilling in and out of her lungs like a broken dam. “How long?” she demands. “How long have you felt this way?”
A sad smile curls up the sides of his mouth. “Forever.” When he releases her elbow, warm summer air drifts in to take his place. “It’s weird.” He looks away, foot tapping the rug. “Before freshman year, I thought I had it all figured out. I thought Hannah and I would get married, and I’d work, and play music on the side, and we’d have a bunch of kids, and live happily ever after.” He looks back at Ginny. “Then you walked into my life.”
She takes the bottle of whiskey and pours another glass.
“You ruined all my plans,” he says.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” He smiles. Then he stands up and heads for his bedroom. He opens the door, then pauses. “I’m happy with Hannah. I am. But sometimes...” He looks over his shoulder, eyes meetinghers for just a second too long. “Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice.”
***
After Finch shuts his door, Ginny sits alone for a full five minutes. She stares at Finch’s door, hearing his final sentence on one continuous loop.
Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice.
Was that a hint? Is he going to break up with Hannah? She’s met his girlfriend once or twice when she came to visit Harvard. She was nice. Ginny doesn’t want to wish ill upon her, but...
Hope, small but intoxicating, flutters at the center of her chest.
Ginny knows she shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t place her heart into the hands of someone who isn’t hers to want. But when she considers the alternative—when she pictures that sea of darkness into which she felt herself sinking during her walk home—every muscle in her body seizes up at once. She cannot stomach the sadness that seeps inside when she thinks about Adrian. She cannot let herself drown.
So, why not allow herself a new crush? Why not grab hold of the life ring floating so clearly before her, especially when the man in question is already taken, when their relationship cannot actually go anywhere?
