"Do you have any actors you consider role models?" she asked him. They were sitting on a blanket at the lake, the Saturday after he told her he had applied to Pace. He gave her a shy smile.
"Jimmy Stewart."
She clapped her hands in delight, even as he made that difficult by trying to kiss her. They were both wet from swimming, and he was aroused at the sight of her in this white, almost sheer bikini.
"Excellent choice, baby. What about him do you admire?"
He paused, then raised himself on one elbow, knowing that when she wanted to talk, there was little he could do to distract her.
"He plays good men."
Her hand caressed his cheek.
"But Finn, you wouldn't be acting if you played good men."
She felt his hand slide under the leg opening of her bikini.
"Okay then," he whispered in her ear, "Let me try being bad for a while."
Rachel awoke, embracing the memory. She liked how it made her feel; proud of him and aroused at the same time, glad to remember him at his more confident, before the weight of events almost crushed his spirit. And it felt good to think about his playful side.
She felt the familiar warm dampness pooling between her legs, along with the physical ache, remembering Finn's simple adoration. Brody had never quite made her feel like that. She knew, from a conversation with Finn, that Body had said he loved her, but Rachel couldn't remember feeling anything more from him than an almost soulless eroticism. Brody didn't possess anything like Finn's simple sweetness, the way he would look at her and be unable to speak, or the tender way he always held her afterwards. In her low moments soon after his death, Rachel wondered what, besides her talent, Finn ever saw in her. She remembered his little jokes about not being able to get a word in edgewise, and worried that he truly resented it, even though her heart told her otherwise. She looked in the mirror, and all the remembered insults about her appearance emerged again, like conjured spirits. It didn't matter that she was always beautiful in his eyes, or that she had tried to develop a healthy sense of self-worth; without Finn she abruptly felt ugly and annoying again, even as she professionally had triumphed. With only her career left, she almost reverted back to what she had been before ever joining Glee club.
The sun had yet to rise, but a faint glow filtered through her curtains, barely illuminating her bedroom.
She hoped Finn knew how much she had loved him, how much she had equally returned that adoration, that she hadn't ever taken him for granted. He had, against all odds, managed to unlock her. Even when she was at her loneliest, she hoped she could show somebody the love of which she knew she was capable, thanks to Finn. Because she had never been the ruthlessly ambitious girl everyone thought she was. Once Finn had opened her heart, her true self had slowly, painfully, emerged, as if from a chrysalis, drying its wings as she discovered that balance between love and ambition. Even Finn's death couldn't suppress it: Rachel Berry's open, loving heart could not be put back. Its liberation had been his most lasting gift to her.
And she now felt empowered to use that freedom, to give herself—and someone else- a chance.
She stretched in her bed, like a cat, and imagined Jesse adoring her in a similar way. At least, she wanted him to. And the only way to find out, she decided, would be to give him the opportunity. But first she would let him get some rest, and then text him about getting brunch around ten.
After getting up and making coffee, she read more of The Razor's Edge, as the sun finally filled her apartment. Larry Darrel's search for meaning, after the horrors of war that he experienced, touched her to the core. One line struck her in particular:
When you're eighteen your emotions are violent, but they're not durable.
Was that true? Rachel wasn't sure she agreed, but enjoyed being made to stop and think, which led to a peculiar feeling of embarrassment for not having read much of anything before that made her do that. Even more peculiar was it also made her want to read more. A whole other world existed out there; one she barely knew even existed. She felt as if she had been given the key. Now all that was left was to use it. Her decision to continue an education seemed ever so much more the right one.
She told Jesse so at brunch, in a wonderful breakfast place Marge recommended.
"My life is opening up in so many ways," she said.
Jesse still looked tired. Rachel remembered how it had taken a few weeks to get used to the grueling schedule of a Broadway actor. It involved more than the physical exertion- it was also the adjustment to working at night. He looked happy, as he should be. When they had been together in high school they talked about this being heaven, the great reward for all the single-minded preparation each of them was willing to put in instead of playing video games and partying like their friends.
"Is being here, where you are now, what we dreamed it would be like back then?" she asked.
"It's almost better." And he grinned at her. "You remember what we talked about, that time in your room? How we would be the power couple of Broadway?"
Of course she remembered. When she met Jesse she hadn't completely understood what Finn meant to her. Jesse represented what she had imagined the man of her dreams would be. The idea of both of them conquering Broadway made their relationship, before the truths came out, exciting. And sweet. Yes, sweet, looking back. But now, after all that had happened since, she had to ask him a very difficult question.
"How much of that was true for you?"
She felt crass bringing it up, but to truly move on, this was something she had to know. There could be no secrets. And, to her joy, Jesse didn't shy away. He took a sip of coffee and looked directly at her.
"Vocal Adenaline was like a cult," he said. His voice was odd, almost a monotone. "You know how cults are, completely insular, and make a point of isolating their members from everyone else. We worked together, ate together, even slept with each other. I was their star, and all the girls wanted to be with me." He bit his lip. "And I let them. And when Shelby came to me and said she wanted me to gain your confidence, at first I just looked at it as another assignment. At first I thought she wanted me to do this to break you." He sighed, and looked into the distance, ashamed. "And that's what I set out to do."
It was shocking to hear him actually come out and say it.
"But it turned out she wanted to reconnect with you. And here's the awful thing." Rachel had never seen Jesse so pained and remorseful. "She didn't care what effect breaking off our relationship would have on you. It was all about her. And when it came to the National championship—" He looked away, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It was all about me."
"You came back, Jesse," Rachel said, gently. "That's what counted, as far as I was concerned. That's why I forgave you." His expression didn't change.
"I was too late."
"At that point in my life, yes, you were."
"And now?"
"That depends," she teased, "upon what other secrets you have to reveal."
She could see he was thinking before answering, and panicked, wondering if he was about to destroy the delicate structure they had built so far.
"I have just one."
He smiled, and not like he did the the moment before breaking the egg on her head. It was gentler, almost reluctant, which made her more curious rather than apprehensive.
"After your Nationals performance, I sought out Carmen Tibideaux in the lobby." His hand ran back, over his short hair, and she would remember his look for the rest of her life: a combination of love, pride, and embarrassment. She said nothing, encouraging him with her eyes. "I told her you were the most talented person I'd ever met." Rachel blushed in surprise. "I promised her that she wouldn't regret admitting you to NYADA."
She sat, with little expression, absorbing what he had just said. It must have spooked him, because he began to look worried. So she reached out to touch his hand and shook her head.
"No, no, its okay. I-" She stopped, still unsure what to say. But she rubbed his knuckles in reassurance, watching his anxiety ease as a soft smile came over her face. "You're a lovely man," she said, finally.
He sipped his coffee again, relieved. "I wasn't sure how you'd react to that revelation."
"I understand." Then she added, because she had caught a fleeting glimpse of the way Finn used to look at her on Jesse's face, "You have no idea what knowing that means to me."
He picked at his eggs, then met her gaze. "I've loved you for a long time, Rachel."
She waited to respond, long enough to have made a lesser man nervous, but Rachel understood that Jesse was no longer insecure about the two of them, and that he openly accepted the entanglements of her past. All she had to do was graciously accept his declaration; he expected nothing more at this point.
"It's a beautiful Saturday," she said, and squeezed his hands, letting him know that his love of her wasn't necessarily one-sided anymore. "And I would have suggested going to Battery Park, but I have some schoolwork to finish up-" She winked. "-before you come over to my place after your show."
"I cant imagine anything I would like more," he said.
