The Weight Of Words
Finnley stared at the text message for what felt like an eternity. I miss you. It was simple. It was harmless. And yet, it felt like a heavy weight had just been placed on his chest. His heart skipped a beat, then pounded hard against his ribs. It wasn’t the words themselves—it was the way they seemed to carry an invisible thread, tugging him toward something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.
He set the phone back down on the table, his fingers still trembling slightly. His thoughts were in chaos—memories of Silas, the warmth of his smile, the way his voice had made everything feel okay when Finnley was lost in his head.
I miss you.
God, how could he miss someone so much and still be terrified of them? Of what they represented? The possibility of being close to someone, of trusting them, only to have it all fall apart. He couldn’t go through that again. Not after everything.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Hayven’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. She was standing at the counter, watching him intently, as though she knew exactly what was going on in his mind.
Finnley didn’t look up. He couldn’t. His throat felt tight, like the words he wanted to say were stuck somewhere between his chest and his mouth.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “It’s too much. He’s too much.”
Willow crossed the room and sat down beside him, her hand landing gently on his. “You don’t have to decide right now. But maybe—just maybe—it’s time to stop running from what you’re feeling.”
Finnley’s gaze flicked to her, and for the first time in a long while, he saw something in her eyes that wasn’t just concern—it was understanding. Willow had always been the one who seemed to get him the most. The one who knew when to push and when to pull back.
“What if I’m not ready to trust him?” Finnley’s voice cracked a little, betraying the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. “What if... what if I’m just setting myself up for more pain?”
“You won’t know until you try,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “And even if it hurts, you’ll be okay. You’ll get through it. You’ve got us. But you can’t keep avoiding it, Finn. You have to let yourself feelagain.”
He shook his head, his hand tightening around his phone. “I don’t know if I can do that. It’s easier not to feel. To just... shut it out.”
“I know. But look at it this way: You’ve been locked in this cage for so long. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened with Larz. You weren’t the one who hurt you. He did. But that doesn’t mean you should shut yourself off from everything else. From him.”
Finnley swallowed hard, his heart racing. Silas. He could picture him in his mind’s eye—his laugh, the way he always seemed to know what Finnley needed before he even said it. They had been friends first. He had been a constant presence in Finnley’s life for so long, and yet the idea of opening up to him again felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, the ground beneath his feet crumbling.
“Do you really think I can trust him again?” Finnley asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Willow smiled softly, her eyes full of conviction. “I think you have to trust yourself first. And then, just maybe, you’ll see that Silas—he’s not out to hurt you. He wants you to be happy. But you have to believe that. You have to believe that you deserve something real.”
Finnley let out a shaky breath, trying to process the weight of her words. He didn’t know if he was ready to take that leap, but a part of him, deep down, longed for it. Longed to know what it felt like to have someone who truly cared about him—not for what he could offer, not for the safety of keeping their distance—but for who he was, scars and all.
As he sat there, in the quiet of the kitchen, with his sister’s words swirling around him, he realized that it wasn’t just about Silas. It was about him. About whether he could find it within himself to open up again. To let someone in. To love without the fear of losing it all.
His phone buzzed again, interrupting his thoughts. He picked it up hesitantly, his thumb hovering over the screen. Another message from Silas.
Silas: I know it’s been a long time, but I want you to know I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, there’s nobody else for me. It’s always been you. I know i’m the only one for you too
Finnley’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. The words were simple, but the weight of them—of what they meant—was almost unbearable. He wasn’t sure if Silas really understood the kind of fear Finnley lived with, the fear that held him hostage every day. Finnley had been too afraid to even consider one thing: safety.
Safety was a rare thing for Finnley. He hadn’t felt it in a long time. Not since before Larz.
He wanted to believe Silas. He wanted to believe that this time could be different. But trust, for Finnley, was a fragile thing, like glass that shattered too easily.
“What are you going to do?” Willow asked softly, her voice a grounding presence beside him.
Finnley stared at the phone, unsure of the answer. He wasn’t sure what the right choice was. He didn’t know if he could take that risk again. But in the back of his mind, one thing was clear: he couldn’t keep running.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, his finger finally moving to type a response.
His heart raced as he began to type, each letter feeling like his heart was caving in. His thumb hovered over the screen before he hit send.
Finnley: I’m scared, Silas. How do I know i can trust you?
There. He had said it. His heart beat faster, fear washing over him.
Willow squeezed his hand. “See? You can do it.” She clearly thought he sent something different.
Finnley glanced up at her, a faint, uncertain smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah.”