Chapter Thirty-Two

Finn

Then

“So, what can I do for ya?” Henry smiled at him while collecting a stack of papers from the reception counter. “You just about ready for tomorrow? Need any last-minute immunizations for the road?” He winked teasingly.

Finn shrugged. Define ready , he wanted to say, but instead, he just settled on, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, ready. I guess I’m ready.” He was so not ready. In fact, he was freaking out, switching between wanting to puke his guts out or laughing hysterically whenever he thought of going home.

“You don’t sound too convinced there.” Henry tilted his head, an inquisitive glimmer in his blue eyes. “What’s up?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, throwing Finn an and-don’t-give-me-any-bullshit-answers look. An outdrawn sigh left Finn’s chest, his eyes coasting across the counter, a small teddy bear with a stethoscope resting against a potted plant.

“I just…” Fuck. Suddenly, his mouth felt impossibly dry, a building headache reminding him he’d slept like crap for the past couple of nights.

“What?” Genuine concern tinted Henry’s voice, his blue eyes gentle and forthcoming. “You can tell me. Anything you tell me stays in this room, you know that, right? It stays between you and me.” And as if he could read Finn’s mind, Henry added, “I won’t even tell Colton if you don’t want me to.” Finn nodded, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue. The words that had gone on repeat in his head for the past three days.

“I just… I just wish he would’ve asked me to stay.” Henry nodded solemnly, his eyes not leaving Finn’s. “Until spring, at least.”

“Yeah, me too,” Henry said, and Finn had a hard time believing he was hearing him correctly. “Kinda surprised he didn’t, to be honest. Surprised the hell outta Colton too. Thought for sure, he was gonna ask you to stay until spring.” Henry paused, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “Or perhaps indefinitely.” Finn looked up, stunned at that last remark. “Don’t look so surprised,” Henry chuckled. “Hank’s head over heels for ya. Or well, you know, as much as a guy like Hank can be head over heels for someone.”

“You think?” Finn whispered needily. He was way past pretending at this point, and there was just something reassuring about the way Henry was looking at him.

“Fuck yes! I haven’t seen that look on his face since Eugene.” Finn nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Then, is it wrong for me to want him to tell me? To ask me to stay? To give me a reason to stay?”

“Of course not. Look, I’m sure Hank thinks he’s doing the right thing. Letting you go,” Henry continued, a wistful expression sweeping across his face. “Sometimes people do things because they think that it’s for the best. When really, it’s not.” Finn didn’t know much about Henry’s past, but he could tell that he wasn’t speaking in general terms and that Henry, too, had perhaps been at a crossroads in his life. “And I don’t disagree with you going home to make amends with your family—if there’s something there that needs fixin’, that can be fixed, then you need to go do it.”

“But?” Finn chuckled half-heartedly, because he felt that there was an ill-disguised but hidden somewhere in that sentence. Henry smiled, exhaling deeply.

“It’s not for me to judge or to meddle, even though, God knows, Hank meddled when it was Colton and I who were struggling. But that man…” A smile tugged at Henry’s lips. “ Those Dietrich men,” he corrected. “They not only need a push sometimes. They need a kick in their butt to see what’s right in front of them, you know?” Finn nodded. Boy, did he know.

“Sometimes you meet someone, and there’s this strange familiarity. Almost as if you’ve been in that exact same moment before. You know what I mean? Walked the same steps and felt the same ray of sunshine caressing your face in that particular way. This sense of finally… being at peace with yourself and the world. Of coming home. The rest of the noise just fades away, into the background, and what’s left is what matters. What will only ever matter. You and him .” A wet sheen coated Henry’s eyes, and he shrugged apologetically, sniffling loudly.

“Wow,” Finn smiled, the image that Henry was painting so familiar, so vivid. Because, of course, he knew that feeling. “You sure you’re supposed to be a veterinarian?”

“What do you mean?” Henry tipped his chin, a puzzled frown between his blond brows.

“I just think your calling lies elsewhere. You should be a poet,” he mumbled.

“Nah, I’d be no good.” Henry shrugged. “All my poems would just be about him, anyway.” Him. Him. Him, Finn’s heart echoed.

“Henry, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“When did you know that… you know…”

“That Colton was my guy?” He grinned boyishly, his blue eyes turning just a tad darker.

“Yeah,” Finn nodded.

“Hmmm,” Henry hummed, pursing his lips. “When he was brave, I guess.”

“Brave?” Finn repeated, that word the last reply he’d expected.

“Yeah. I think it was at that moment I realized he was my guy. Being brave and fighting tooth and nail for your own little spot of happiness is just so fucking attractive in a guy, dontcha think?” Finn nodded, because he couldn’t agree more. Fuck, if only Hank would be brave for him—for them —too.

As if reading his mind, Henry pulled off a bright green Post-it from a stack on the counter and handed it to Finn. “Maybe it’s time for you to be brave, too, Finn.”