Navy Blue: Chapter 9

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Water droplets pelted against the thick glass of the muted conference room as mother nature blocked out the morning sun.

"Emily should be here soon." Lance added a spoonful of sugar to his coffee.

Finn's mind played tricks on him, the splattered glass acting like a movie screen, playing out memories of the past. He'd hated the rain as a child, the inky days keeping him inside, away from the playground. Then he met Emily and the rain became his best friend.

Because of the rain, he'd had a reason to stop when he came across her riding home from Bridgetown on her bicycle, her sodden pale-yellow sundress clinging to her body. His offer had been accepted with a smile and he couldn't have sworn the sun came out. Little did he know she'd be kissing him in her driveway, the windows of his brother's old Ford truck steaming up around them. The kiss branded him as hers, unlocked something in him he could never return to the box in his heart.

The night he lost his virginity to her, rain had drummed on the boathouse roof, drowned out by the battering ram in his chest. Unbeknownst to him, she'd trekked miles in the downpour to keep their dinner date, because she had no way to contact him. The gesture broke the last barriers he put against her possibly caring about a loser like him. When she'd taken his hand and led them to his bed, Finn wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve her love, but he basked in it and gave her everything he had, body and soul.

That summer was the wettest on record and Finn relished the time hidden away. His one room apartment above the boathouse their love nest, their haven. The one place her family didn't think to look for her, the one place she was all his.

A spasm of heartache rattled the lock on the box he'd stuffed those feelings into eight years ago. Being near Emily but not with her was playing with his mind. When thoughts of what he'd lost, of her got past his defences, he found distraction in the first bar he could find on shore, then the bed of someone willing. He'd been in Washington for almost a week and hadn't frequented anything aside from the snobby restaurant Simon had insisted they go to that first night. The night he saw Emily again.

"She's usually never late. First one here in the morning." Lance slouched in his seat. "We joke she's married to her job."

"Bet her husband hates that." The remark slipped from Finn's lips.

Lance scoffed. "Emily's not married. My sister-in-law doesn't even date."

In Finn's gut, a knot loosened. It meant nothing. So she didn't date? Between her job, which she seemed to obsess over, and looking after her son it must be hard to find time to see other men.

Internally he scolded himself. Not other men. He wasn't one of the men on Emily's datable list. That ship had sailed.

"You should call her." Finn tapped on the side of his phone, bringing it to life.

Eight years ago, he hadn't had the money for a smart phone, or any phone for that matter. If he had, he would have called Emily the moment he read her note, begged her to talk to him. Instead, he raced to her house, banged on the door foolishly hoping the letter was another of her sister's sinister jokes. Mary had found him slumped on their doorstop and told him to go home.

How could he go home? He didn't know where Emily was.

Thunder crashed causing the conference room windows to rattle. Emily was out in this rain. Was she late because her boyfriend kept her in bed, worshiping her with kisses as Finn once had? Was her child sick?

Yes, Finn needed to forget about Emily Montgomery.

With a flick of his finger, Finn scrolled through the contacts on his phone, found the Team Patriot group chat and typed out a message: Boys night required.

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