I Never Let You Go (I Never 3)

He leads me over to an opening on the dance floor before spinning me and pulling me to his chest.

“Show-off,” I mutter under my breath but loud enough for him to hear me. His deep chuckle vibrate

s my body with his closeness. I tuck my head into the crook of his neck and close my eyes as he holds me, just like he did for all of those dances in high school I dragged him to.

He holds me tighter as “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers continues to play, and I let him. In fact, I cling to him the same way I did at the airport, clutching to him as if he were my lifeline.

Time stops. We are no longer in a church hall full of a hundred and some guests, but it’s just Finn and me. I don’t care who’s watching us, questions be damned later, as being in his arms just once is worth everything. But is it enough?

The irony isn’t lost on me as I listen to the lyrics. I squeeze my eyes tighter to keep the tears at bay. Nothing compares to the feeling of being in Finn’s arms.

“Lo.” The way he breathes my name fills me with life. His head is resting against the top of mine. I slowly lift my head meeting his gaze. Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to? I swallow thickly as he closes the distance between us, and I close my eyes. I can feel his breath on my skin. His nose brushes against mine, and my heart is ready to jump out of my chest.

“Lo, I lied. What if I want more than one dance?” His voice just above a whisper, but it screams to my heart. “I miss you.”

My breath catches, and my eyes fly open. I feel as though the room is beginning to close. I can’t do this, especially today of all days. I slowly back away from him, needing the distance now more than ever. My bottom lip quivers, but I refuse to let him see me break.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

He takes a step toward me, and I keep pacing backward. “Lo, please.”

No. There’s that word again, the one that broke us the first time.

It was only supposed to be one dance. He promised—another broken promise. Finn Reynolds seems to be full of them.

I need to escape. I spin on my heels, leaving a trail of smoke in my path and Finn alone on the dance floor. I should’ve known…because all those “one mores” always turned into several more.

Leaving my brother’s wedding in the middle of the reception without saying a word to everyone may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. But when it comes to Finn Reynolds, I never seem to think clearly, which is why I’m changed out of my bridesmaid’s dress into old sweats and sitting on the couch alone with two things in front of me. A bottle of wine to drown out my thoughts as well as give me the liquid courage for what sits beside it—the box that has been in the back of my closet behind a stack of early-education college textbooks for ten years, even though I told my sister I threw it away. This box contains the pieces of our life together: photos, cards, movie stubs—everything that is Lo and Finn compressed into a shoebox.

I slump back against the couch with my feet tucked underneath me, crisscross applesauce style, just like I do with my students. I swirl the wine in my glass in a circular motion while I have a staring contest with the inanimate objects in front of me that are screaming at me.

After a large gulp of wine, I set the glass on the table and pull the box into my lap. The lid is decorated with hearts and the initials “LL & GR.” I run my fingers over the top and smile at how childish this looks. The hand-drawn hearts and stickers make this look like an art project my students would have made in art class. I try to even out my breathing as I lift the lid and look down at memories of a time when we were happy, a time when I was enough for him.

I grab a stack of greeting cards out first, birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmases. The corners are worn with age, his chicken scratch signature signed on each one of these. I run my fingers over it as my vision blurs from the tears filling my eyes.

I set the cards to the side before grabbing the photo on top of the pile. It’s a photo of Finn and me from our senior year. He is in his football gear, blue pants, and a charcoal jersey with his number five in blue, and me in my cheerleading uniform, a combination of charcoal, white, and blue with a giant blue bow in my ponytail. I hate that number five is still considered my lucky number.

It was just after he won the state championship game, 47-21. Right after the final buzzer sounded, the crowd ran out on the field as the team cheered. I can close my eyes now and hear the roar of the stadium chanting the Bull Dogs and Finn’s name. I ran right to him and jumped into his arms. I first buried my face in his neck, squeezing him tight—that was when someone from the yearbook committee took this photo. I didn’t care about the disgusting smell of sweat and his safety pads; it was all Finn, my Finn. After our embrace, he pressed a searing kiss against my lips.

I remember the day Finn begged the yearbook photographer for a copy of this photo. Of course, he quickly handed it over. Finn was the varsity quarterback, the golden boy—all he had to do was flash that award-winning smile and everyone would fall to his feet, me included. There was a reason he was voted best smile in our senior superlatives.

That football field held so many memories for us. I bring the photo to my chest and close my eyes as tears begin to fall.

“What are we doing here?” I asked as Finn parked his truck in the lot of our high school. “It’s a Saturday night. Are you trying to get us suspended?”

Finn walked around the truck and opened my door. He grabbed my hand, linked our fingers, and pulled me against his chest. Finn reached into the back seat and grabbed a backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, Lo. Coach loves me. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his star quarterback playing.”

I scoffed as he began leading me toward the football stadium. “That’s funny since maybe said quarterback should be working more to make sure nothing jeopardizes him playing.”

I bit my lip nervously, looking around as he led me toward the football field. Finn may have been a star player on the field, but I didn’t think that mattered being here on school property at night. As if Finn had sensed my hesitation, he stopped turned to face me. His palm cupped my check before caressing my skin with his thumb.

“Do you trust me?” he breathed against my lips.

“Always.” I smiled before he placed a quick kiss on my lips.

“Good. I promise it will be worth it. And to ease your mind, I already talked to Coach Wilson, and he said as long as we promised not to do anything stupid on school property, we would be fine.”