Page 148 of Wonderstruck

My chest ached, swelling with love so deep it almost hurt. I turned my gaze to the lake, and sure enough, it was frozen solid—just as it always was this time of year. Yet, somehow, the sight of it still caught me off guard, like some distant part of me had convinced itself the ice wouldn’t form without its skater gliding across it.

It was a silly thought, really. And yet, there was something about it—something quiet, something aching—that felt almost comforting. As if the lake was simply waiting for me to come back.

Before I could overthink it, I leaned across the seats, cupping Finn's face in my hands. I kissed him, pouring every word I couldn’t say into the press of my lips.

Finn kissed me back just as fervently, his hand findingthe back of my neck to hold me closer. When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads touched, and I whispered, “Je t’aime.”1

His smile widened, his eyes sparkling as his breathbrushed against my lips. “Je t’aime encore plus.”2

The sunlight spilt through the truck’s windshield, goldenand warm, but I pulled back, worry lacing my smile. “I didn’t bring my skates.”

He raised a brow, his smirk pure mischief.

With a groan and his sweater rising just enough to showthe bottom of his abs as he stretched, he reached into the back seat, pulling out a gorgeous pair of baby pink skates, tied neatly with a satin ribbon.

I fell in love with him a little more when he smiled thistime. “I don’t know if you know this but you look beautiful in pink.” My jaw dropped as he held them out between us. “Merry Christmas, Bambi.”

“Finn…” My voice wavered as I took them, fingerstracing the soft leather. “I can’t take these. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He reached for my hands, folding thembetween his. “I don’t think you get how much I’lldo to never lose you again, Aurora.” His voice softened, his eyes searching mine. “I tried to forget you. I really did. But you were everywhere. In the songs I listened to in the shower. In the crowd at the rink even though I knew you weren’t there. Every time I saw something pink I thought of nothing else but you for the rest of that day.”

His fingers tightened around mine, like letting go wasn't anoption.

“There is no one in this world who deserves love morethan you, but for whatever reason the world likes to break your heart and I’m sorry about that.” His jaw clenched. “I’m sorry I was part of that. I hurt you when I should have been telling you how much I loved you and I willalwaysbe sorry about that.”

He pulled in a breath, slow, careful, like he was afraid ofwhat came next. Then, finally, he looked at me—really looked at me. “I’m not saying this to make up for letting you go. I’m saying it because I won’t let your heart break again. Not if I can help it.”

The tears spilt over before I could stop them. “Youknow that goes both ways, right?” I whispered. “The heartbreak thing.”

His smile was as soft as the light pouring through the windows, his thumb brushing over myknuckles.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I continued, my voicestronger now. “I promised myself I’d only do things that make me happy. And you, Finn—you make me happy.”

The moment his lips met mine, the world stopped. No, itvanished—faded into nothing, like it was never really there to beginwith. It was just him now. Just the warmth of his hands, the press of his body, the way he kissed me like I was his first breath after drowning.

He moved like he was memorising me, like this was something sacred, something he needed to get right. His hands framed my face, gentle but certain. He wasn't afraid to not treat me like a teacup and I only kissed him harder for that. And when he pulled me closer, and tilted my head back just right, it wasn't just desperate—it was devotion. Like I'm his moon, his stars, the only thing that has ever made sense.

With every second, I felt it—how I was always meant tobe right here. With him.

As our breaths became breathless, our mouths slowed, ourhands settled, and as we pulled away our eyes met, dancing in whatever firelight still burned within them. It was as though the last few months caught up with me then, like I’d been floating through my life, and only now was I settling back into my body.

I had Finn. I didn’t have a dad. I had skating. I hadAspen. I didn’t have the pressure of trying to make someone else happy. I had Honeywood. I had friends who were by my side no matter what I chose to do with my life.

I had myself, and that was what brought on the ache of afresh round of tears.But like he had a sixth sense for these things, Finn’sthumb swiped at my under eyes. Calming me better than any morning skate ever could.

When we eventually stepped out of the truck, the cold bitat my cheeks, but I barely felt it with how blushed they were.The gravel crunched under our boots as we stood in front of the house, its faded exterior so full of memories I could barely breathe.

“I miss this house,” I said, my voice cracking as I lookedat the broken windows.

Finn slid his arm around my shoulders, pulling me intohis side. “I wonder why no one bought it.” His neck craned over his shoulder. “Insane view of Red Crow and Grizzly Mountain. The lake. Healthy fields and crop space.” he turned back to look at me. “It’s perfect.”

The answer hit me like a bolt, almost as harsh as thewind. “I know why,” Turning to him, my eyed widened. “Dad never sold it. After he passed, the estate people told me the house was still in his name. Which means…”Oh my God.“It’s mine.”

Finn didn’t hesitate. He grinned, brushing a strand of hairfrom my face. “I’ll make it yours someday. Truly yours.” His face lit up with the morning sun, excitement beaming off him. “Painting, renovating—whatever you want.”

I looked up at him, my heart thundering. “How about wemake it ours?”

His smile was blinding. “I’d like that, Ror.” He flicked my nose playfully. “But first, you’ve got a sectionals to win, Olympics to qualify for, and a sport to conquer.”

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