The Present

Hello, again!

Here's part 3, not the last one, though (part 4 will be some kind of special chapter from Finn's POV, not really necessary to understanding the story, but it will add a bit to it, some little interesting details at least, like why such uncommon names).

I know. Some people didn't agree with Hero's decision in part 2, which is why everything is explained here. Why she made the choice she did.

And maybe they'll get a second chance!

AGAIN (I will always make this clear): Not native English speaker, so if you see something wrong, please forgive me.

*I received some suggestions from part 2 readers. Thank you very much for that! I'll welcome some more.

Enjoy!

Nana.

*****

The little clock marked 19:40.

Finn would leave the hospital in twenty minutes. Considering how fast he walks, he'll probably be here in thirty five to forty minutes.

I was thinking to myself, while I considered the possibilities the night would offer. The good, and most importantly, the bad ones.

Earlier, I'd had a long, minucius bath that had left me smelling like a walking rose petal soap bar. I had shaved, washed my hair, and even used some macadamia nut body oil.

Of course I knew that wasn't going to be a date. Of course it wasn't.

Still, I had dropped Massie, my Labrador, at my mom's for the night. She didn't like strange people and I didn't want Finn to get bitten while we talked.

We were only going to talk.

Just talk.

Despite that piece of knowledge I was spending too much time on deciding what to wear. Sitting on my bed wearing a ridiculously lacy underwear, I looked over every piece of clothing in display inside my opened closet. I found nothing suitable. And the more time I wasted on deciding, the less time I had to decide.

The danger was, If I wore something too fancy, he'd think I thought that was a date when it obviously wasn't. Now, if I wore something too casual, he'd think I didn't give the occasion enough importance.

I glanced down at the little watch by the bedside table.

19:50.

"What is wrong with you, Hero? He won't care what you wear. Just get a grip." I said out loud, scolding myself.

Having made up my mind, I walked over to the closet and chose a simple tea-length black dress with long sleeves. A bit prude despite its tightness, but I wasn't going to spend any more time staring at my closet. Walking over to the bathroom, I spilled some drops of perfume on my wrists rubbing some on my neck, under my ears.

There was a woman staring at me from the other side of the oval bathroom mirror. She had large, expressive brown eyes lined with long, dark lashes. She seemed nervous. I could see her plump lips were slightly parted as she exhaled warm air through her teeth, fogging up the mirror glass.

Her cheeks were blushed due to the hot blood running faster than usual under her golden brown skin. I brought my fingers up to my hair and the woman in the mirror touched her own wild curls.

"It's all going to be fine. It's just Finn." She said to me.

Believing her, I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

***

20:10

He'll be here any second now.

Since he'd said he would come straight from work, I figured he'd have no time to eat, so I had pretentiously prepared his favourite meal. Lasagna.

My whole day had been spent in a constant state of agonized expectancy that resulted in inumerous butterflies flying around my stomach, unabling me to eat.

Amazing as it was I had not, in fact, consumed all of the wine I had in the house while mourning my shitty marriage. So I opened a bottle of Pinot Noir and poured myself a glass to steady my nerves. I was nervous in a way I didn't even remembered ever being so.

I was afraid of the course our conversation might follow. We had ten years of things to talk about. Last night when we had finally been reunited we didn't have any kind of productive talk, when we did talk. It was clear to the both of us by now we still held some power over each other.

Now anything could happen.

Anything.

Did that include the thing I wanted the most?

But what did I want though?

I gulped some more wine, forcing the thoughts in my head to drift away. I opened and closed the kitchen cabinets arranging placemats, plates, cutlery, and a glass on the wooden kitchen table. The table wasn't too big, so I saved myself another dilemma.

Where do I sit? Too close, too far from him?

Instead I placed our plates directly across from each other on the table. I stepped back, admiring my work and sipping more of my wine when the doorbell rang. I jumped startled and spilled red wine on my dress.

"Oh! Marvellous!"

Thank goodness I wore a black dress.

I whirled around looking for some cloth to clean myself with, but none seemed to be found when I needed it. So I gave up looking and went to the door.

I stood in front of it and breathed one, two, three times deeply through my nose and out through my mouth. I ran a hand down my dress to smooth the inexistent creases in it. The bell ringed again. Taking one last breath I opened the door, and there he was.

All the air was knocked out of me when he smiled and his lips formed the word "Hi."

"Hello." I said back, and felt that my dumb smile was wider than his.

He looked tired. There were bags under his eyes. He was wearing jeans, a simple navy blue t-shirt and there was a messenger bag clutched to his side. His hair was a disheveled mess with some large curls falling to his forehead that made my fingers tingle with the desire to brush them back.

Finn had always been handsome and even though he seemed to be worn out, he still looked disgustingly gorgeous.

"So," Finn's voice broke my admiration trance. "Can I come in?"

Apparently I had been standing there obviously staring at him for longer than I thought.

I cleared my throat and spoke way too loudly.

"Yes, of course! Please, come in."

I stepped aside and he stepped in. His scent spread through the air at once. He bent down and kissed me on the cheek. I shivered as the smell of his after shave invaded my nostrils. I wanted to crawl out of my skin and into his.

God, that would be one bloody long night.

I closed the door and walked towards him.

Finn was looking around the living room, his brown eyes amused and curious.

"This place is very you." He remarked smiling and letting his bag slid down his shoulder to the sofa.

"What do you mean by that?"

He arched an eyebrow and pointed his long index finger to nowhere in particular.

"There's books everywhere, and three Mucha paintings in this room alone."

I smiled and raised my wine glass up to my lips to try and hide how satisfied I was with his knowledge of me. He knew me well.

The funny thing was that I felt nervous the way you do when you're trying to impress someone in your first date. But that was Finn. He knew me, all of me. I couldn't lie or pretend with him. And also that was not, absolutely not a date.

Against my will my brain recollected Lucian had bought me those paintings.

"I actually plan to move out to a place that's just mine, soon." I made that decision as I spoke it.

He just smiled crookedly and we stood in silence for a while, awkwardness filling up the air. The both of us stood in the same room, breathing the same air, none of us knowing what to say next until the kitchen timer went off and startled us both.

"Oh! Shit, my lasagna!" I cursed.

I had completely forgotten about dinner. I rushed to the kitchen and felt Finn following me.

Lucian was the one who spent most of his time home. Consequently he was the one doing most of the cooking, so I could never find anything in the damn kitchen without first opening all drawers and cabinet doors. Luckily, the red oven mitts were hanging just right above the stove, in perfect display.

I removed the lasagna dish from the oven and placed it on the table, not burning myself by a miracle.

"You've made lasagna?" Finn leaned close to the dish and inhaled in appreciation.

I let out a relaxed breath. Thank goodness he didn't think it to be too much.

"I figured you wouldn't have had time to eat." I almost sounded like I was apologizing. "I hope you still like lasagna."

"How could I not?" He said happily, and for the briefest of seconds he was the old Finn I loved so much.

I gestured for him to sit down. As he did it, I picked up the wine bottle from the counter and sat down across from him at my seat on the table. I refilled my own glass before offering him some.

"Would you like some wine?"

"If there's any left, then yes." He teased, eyeing the glass that had been on my hand since before I opened the door for him.

"Oh, don't worry. I have another bottle." I had many other bottles.

He laughed and handed me his glass so I could fill it.

There was an easiness to him. He was more himself than he had been the night before. For a moment there, it almost felt like those ten years apart never happened.

I noticed him fidgeting while drinking his wine. He always got fidgety whenever he was nervous or shy, or both. I could tell he was hungry by the way he kept glancing at the food, so I urged him to serve himself.

"Well, come on! Eat before it gets cold, Finn."

He shifted uncomfortably on his chair.

"Don't mind if I do." He said and served himself a generous portion of lasagna.

When he took the first bite the look on his face and the moan out of his throat made me squeeze my legs together.

"Mhmm. Jesus, it's even better than I remembered."

The butterflies on my stomach swirled around. I grinned, satisfied.

"I'm glad you still like it."

Finn looked at me smiling tenderly.

"Thank you for this. My lunch today was composed of two moldy toasts and green jello"

Just his smile alone made me feel a bit warmer. I stared at him for a tad too long before answering.

"It was really nothing."

We ate making small talk about his shift at the hospital and my work as a restorer for his aunt's boyfriend.

In the end, it all looked awfully like a date. I actually did open a second bottle of wine and we were both laughing shamelessly with our faces hot, reminiscing our days in university when Finn said something that brought me back down to earth.

"This is funny." He started speaking with his voice distant, but looking me right in the eye. "When we were together in college this is how I used to imagine our lives would be like in the future. Me coming home every night and telling you about my day, and you'd me about yours while we laughed."

I just stared back at him dumbfounded.

Finn was such an open person. He wasn't afraid of saying what he felt when he felt it. I had always loved that bluntness and honesty about him, but sometimes it seemed like he didn't pay much mind to the consequences of his words.

"I guess back then, none of us thought our futures wouldn't include each other." I answered being as honest as he had just been.

The corner of his mouth turned up shyly.

"How did you imagine it?"

Now I hated his bluntness. I hated how he put me on the spotlight like that and made it impossible for me to answer him with anything but complete honesty. Because, even if I tried to lie, he'd know.

"Exactly like this. With the exception of the awkwardness." I said, my voice catching on my throat.

I looked down at my glass, swirling the liquid inside. I had lost count of how many times after the divorce I had sat here, with a glass full of wine fantasizing about a life where we were together.

We were ridiculously happy, like only imagined people could be.

Why hadn't I said yes again?

I suddenly felt my face hot. I was embarrassed of myself.

What a ridiculously cheesy thing to think about.

I smiled bitterly and jumped to my feet. With nervous hands, I started piling our plates and taking our forks and knives to the sink. I didn't even ask him if he was done eating.

With my back turned to him I allowed the hot tears that were dancing behind my eyelids to roll down my face. I turned the tap on and hoped that the sound of the running water, and the clattering of dishes and cutlery would muffle my low sobs and the shaky crying movements of my shoulders.

I hated to be so vulnerable. Damn him.

My body seemed to know when Finn was close before my eyes could register his presence. I felt his heat on my back as he drew closer. I felt his warm, large hands slipping around my waist and turning me around to face him. I didn't even bother trying to resist or wiping my face. Of course he knew I was crying.

He turned my body to his and I boldly forced my eyes up into his. There was a crease in between his brows, a look of sadness and confusion in his eyes, but also something not quite so tender.

He stepped even closer to me to the point where his hipbone touched my belly. I thought he'd kiss me. My whole body thought he'd kiss me. But he didn't. He just extended an arm and turned the tap off behind me.

He then brought his hands up to my face and wiped my tears away with his thumbs.

I gripped the edge of the sink because I thought my knees would give in and I'd crumble at his feet.

Finn was about to open his mouth when I spoke rashly.

"Why did you say that, Finland?" I put my hands over his and pushed them away. I couldn't think straight with him touching me. "Why are you always saying the most inappropriate things?"

He looked down at me, bemused.

"You said you wanted to talk. Fine, let's talk! But why, why must you come here and talk about how you've imagined our life together when you know, certainly you must know how much it hurts me to hear it!"

"Hurts you?" Finn stood gaping at me, wide-eyed like I was a crazy person.

I threw my hands in the air, exasperated.

"What did you want to talk about, Finn?"

He opened his mouth and started stammering.

"I just...I thought...after last night..."

"After last night?" I interrupted his mumbling. "You mean last night when you first treated me like I was a stranger and then later kissed me or whatever the fuck that was?!"

Rage came flowing over me, out of my mouth, out of my eyes.

Finn stepped back until his back hit the kitchen aisle behind him.

"Hero,-" Finn tried speaking again, and again I didn't let him.

"You what? You left me here! You were gone for ten bloody years! I even married somebody I didn't really love just to try and forget about you! Now you come back and coincidently, it is the shittiest time of my life! You and your damned crooked-toothed smile and your wonders about our inexistent life together, your-" I stopped abruptly, breathless, feeling like my chest would burst.

I turned and gripped my own hair.

Finn had been standing there just listening to me while I yelled at him, throwing words at him like they were daggers.

He didn't seem to be getting angry like I expected him to. Instead he looked like he wanted to laugh, everything in his expression screamed indignation. I couldn't stand seeing that look anymore. I felt like slapping him.

"Hero,"

The way he said my name, that way, made me afraid of turning to face him.

"I asked you -No- I begged you to come with me. You said no, Hero." He said behind me, throwing the past in my face.

I turned back to look at him, shaking my head and throwing my hands up.

"Finn, we already had this fight. You know well enough why I didn't go with you."

I thought he'd try and reopen that discussion, and say once again that I could've gone with him had I really wanted to. But to my utter surprise, he didn't.

He opened up a whole new discussion.

"I know." he said with mild exasperation. "I understand why you didn't come with me. In fact, I know exactly why."

Taken aback I asked.

"You do?"

He looked down at his feet with a bitter, sad smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I do." He lifted his head, just a little, and looked at me from under his eyelashes. "Don't you?"

To me, it felt like Finn and I were having totally different conversations. I didn't know what on earth he was talking about. I just shook my head, suddenly feeling like I was the person out of tune in the conversation.

"Oh, come on, love. You know it. You might not admit that you do, but you know. Come on, say it."

His voice was different. All the warmth was gone. He was teasing me, but not in a good way. I felt like he was trying to pull me into a trap. Truth is, he didn't seem like himself anymore. It was like he'd been replaced by someone else in the span of seconds.

"Finn, what are you talking about?" I asked, his intentions at a total loss to me.

"I'm talking about you and why you didn't want to go with me." He said, simply.

Whatever game he was playing I was starting to get tired of it.

I looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. My eyes fixated on the lamp until it burned my retina and the reflection flashed behind it when I blinked. That was precisely the course I dreaded the conversation would follow, and I wanted to change it desperately.

"It doesn't matter, Finn. None of this matters anymore." I had to fight and filter the words that wanted to come out uninvited. "We were so young and...god! It doesn't matter! That's how it happened! We were stupid, we hurt each other. You left, I got married. So you're sorry, I'm sorry, but it changes nothing. This is who we are now because of the choices we made. You can't blame me for how your life turned out to be just as I can't blame you for my shitty marriage!"

That wasn't what I wanted to say. Fuck. That wasn't true either.

We did blame each other. I knew I blamed him, or at least my feelings for him. I only ever married Lucian to run away from those feelings.

I got way too emotional and lost the ability to be rational and say the things I really needed to. I just blurted out the words as they came.

Finn's expression was serious.

I buried my nails in my palms and focused on that feeling.

"I don't think we need to forgive one another. That was ten years ago, Finn. We must accept that it happened the way it did and own our mistakes. You didn't talk to me and I didn't listen to you. Now, what's done is done. Don't come here apologizing for the past, wishing to change it, or erase it, or whatever it is you think you need to do. The only thing I regret is the way we parted after that fight, if we can call it that," I clamped my lips shut, forcing myself to ponder the words before letting them out. "We should've talked, set things straight and said our goodbyes out of respect for each other, if anything. I'm just sorry we didn't do that. About the rest, well...I wouldn't have gone with you, I wouldn't have wanted you to stay and miss such a great opportunity, so we...we went our separate ways. Life happened. I can't be sorry it didn't go my way, I have no control over such things, doesn't matter how much I wish them to be different. This is it. There is no what if's, there's only this one reality."

As soon as I shut my mouth I knew I had spoken a lot but said nothing. All rubbish.

Finn remained impassive.

There was a clock on the wall behind him. It's ticking the only sound echoing in the kitchen.

"It matters, Hero. Everything matters." There is that voice, that tone of voice doctors use to tell you bad news. That calm, understanding voice that carried bad news. That was how Finn sounded when he spoke. "Just admit it. You were scared. It wasn't about my so called lie, it wasn't about leaving your home behind, it was about you. You were scared."

"No." I hissed, and my denial awoke something dark in him.

"Yes! Yes, you were, just fucking admit it already. Come on!" He spoke harshly, taking a step closer to me with every word out of his mouth. "Come on! Don't hide behind your sloppy excuses and nice words! You were scared!"