Page 76 of The Dangers of Daydreaming

Oh my gosh, I was a complete and total shallow jerk.

Yeah, real life wasn’t always better than fiction. Sometimes it was really crappy, but had my desire to avoid all of that made me miss out on real human connection like what Finn and I had? I’d missed out on giving grace and empathy. I’d missed out on getting to know the real people behind my “adversaries” and “supporting characters.” My mom, my coworkers, even my cousins—I’d kept them all at arms’ length. Maybe, in the end, my lack of commitment to the “for better or worse” had been what made Michael end things.

I parked the car outside the inn and leaned my head back, pressing the palms of my hands into my eyes.

I needed to help Finn through this, but more than that, I needed to reach out to all those people in my life with whom I had been living half a relationship. I needed to be there for them, and that meant I needed to talk to my mom. I needed to get to know the guy she was marrying, and to get behind this step in her life.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling through previously ignored messages. They’d been piling up for days, but that had always been my way. I’d told myself I was too busy to respond, only answering on my timeframe. But that wasn’t the truth. I was just not willing to commit to the emotional load that came from giving my all in a relationship.

One from my mom. I’d call her back, she deserved a call.

Several in the cousin chat. A picture of Chloe and her boyfriend, Holt. Poppy saying she’d sold seven copies of Dani’s book that day. A handful of others. I sent messages back in response to them all, taking the time to make sure each was sincere and thought out.

And then there was one from Ellie.

Ellie: I just got notice that your flight was cancelled. We’ve rebooked you for the evening before, I’m emailing over the confirmation information now.

I stared down at the screen until it turned black. My little time left had just been cut by almost twenty-four hours, which meant that much less time to finalize my presentation and plans, to come up with something to elevate the entire pitch, and to enjoy the place that was the birth of my very favorite character and book series.

That was everything that should have been going through my mind, but instead, all I could think about was Finn. Twenty-four hours less time to be with him and help him. Is there anything I could do before I had to leave that would help?

Staying wasn’t an option. I had to admit that the thought crossed my mind—a great, grand gesture moment where, instead of getting on the plane, I decided to stay and be with him. But that stuff didn’t happen in reality.In reality, I had to keep my job. In reality, we’d only kissed a couple of times. You don’t throw a life away on that.

But I still wanted to do something. Even with all the work-related things weighing down on me, I knew they could wait for something more important—for Finn.

I just had to come up with—wait. I remembered a conversation we’d had a few days ago. It was a small thing… but what if it would help?

Even if only a little bit, it was worth it.

Chapter 22

Shifted

Finn

Thehospitalroomwastoo quiet. Gram was sleeping, the nurses were out at their stations, and there was no sound outside of the machines monitoring Pops. I glanced at the clock on my phone.

1:42. But I couldn’t sleep. The nurses had brought in another recliner, and usually I’d be able to pass out just fine on it. But not tonight. Tonight, I was afraid to take my eyes off my grandpa.

There was a light knock at the door, then a nurse came in. I glanced at Gram, but she didn’t stir, so I stood.

The nurse gave me a small smile. I hadn’t met her before, and she seemed close in age to what my mom would be had she not passed when I was a kid. “How are you holding up?” she asked in a whisper as she moved to the computer.

“Fine,” I said. What else could I say?

She nodded, glancing over at all the monitors. I’d learned what each of them did, but still watched the nurse’s face for any sign of worry. She nodded again, this time to herself, then tapped a few notes into the computer.

“He is stable, and I don’t see anything of concern right now,” she said kindly, entering a few more things into the computer.

Nothing of concern except the coma, of course.

“Thanks,” I said, crossing my arms. I wanted to ask what the prognosis was. I wanted to know what tomorrow and the next day would look like, but what if the answer was negative? I didn’t want to risk it.

“Call if you need anything,” she said, then left the room, quietly closing the door behind her and leaving me again in semi-darkness.

I was still standing when Gram’s hoarse voice startled me. “Has the nurse been by?”

I spun to face her. She was pushing herself up from the blankets on the pull-out couch, rubbing her eyes.

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