[This story is free again]
A social klutz and certified bookworm, Autumn Lyne is content with having just books as companions--that is, until her extrovert of a sister drags her out to meet her band. But nobody has expected that this would mark the...
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The coffee aroma and cold air conditioning greet me as I push the glass door open. Customers crowd the café, but I easily spot him sitting at the table beside the maroon brick wall ornamented with abstract paintings. His eyes come to rest on me as I walk to him, and he stops sipping his drink to give me a nod of greeting.
"You look happy," Finn remarks, placing his cup on the table. The blue casual shirt he's wearing matches the bright tint of his eyes. He's so well dressed that I want to ask if he's here for an interview, but I decide to keep that joke to myself. The fact that he dressed up formally makes me think this isn't just a "catching up with an old friend" occasion for him. Josie will have a feast when she hears about this.
I try to hold back an amused smile as I sit opposite him.
"Did I make you wait long?" I ask, taking my bag off my shoulder and placing it on the empty chair beside me. I also remove my scarf, draping it over my bag.
"No. You're right on time," he says and gestures at the table. "I just came early to get us these."
"Hot chocolates and club sandwiches." I look at the food he ordered for us and then at him. "It's been ages," I say, giving him an I-see-what-you-did-there look. I like that he remembered that particular time and recreated it in a fancier place.
Finn smiles. "I know. So much has changed, hasn't it? You've grown taller."
Amused, I give a little bow of my head. "Why, thank you." From five feet to five three over the years—not a huge difference, but I'm proud of it. And thank you to whoever invented high heels.
"Do you ever miss it? The way things were?"
I pick up my cup of hot chocolate and answer wistfully, "All the time."
"Speaking of... before." Finn pauses, hesitant to reveal something. "I came across Michael a while ago."
He pauses again, waiting for my response. I only keep stirring my drink with a swizzle stick.
"Can't believe that guy is actually here. He was the one who approached me and I was like, 'Whoa. Dude, is that you? What the hell have you been doing all these years?' Then you know what he answered? 'Just exploring some good parts of the world.'"
I smile in my head.
"I guess he's still the same guy we knew back then," Finn continues. "But he told me that someone gave him a scholarship to Julliard, and now he teaches music at a public high school here. And, uh..." He takes a moment to juggle his memory. "That's about it. Just small talk. He was in a rush, so there was little time to go into detail. Before he left, though, he asked me about you."
I look up from my drink to focus my eyes on him. "He did?"
"Yes. He wanted to know how you were doing."
"And what did you say to him?"
"I told him you're doing well." Finn studies my reaction, and his face softens with understanding. "You should have seen him."
"I did."
"Oh?" His eyebrows shoot up. "So, did you talk to him?"
"No."
"Why? It was your chance."
There are so many things I haven't told Michael that my fingers ache at the thought of writing them all, but...
"Seeing him is enough. And I'm grateful to know that he's all right. I'll never have to worry again."
"Do you still write about him?"
"Yes, and I'm about to finish it," I say. "After that, I won't write about him anymore."
Lifting the cup to my lips, I blow on the steaming brew and share a smile with Finn.
