Emily and River meet in Miami, where they have the time of their lives, but it isn't meant to be: the next morning, Emily leaves for San Francisco, leaving both their hearts broken. They don't think they'll ever see each other again.
Emily goes back...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
There was a mall not far from the beach where they were, one he'd never been to. Together they walked there, much to the disliking of Emily. River had noticed she didn't seem to be in the best physical shape and that she was still tired from the walk to the beach. However, she insisted that they went to buy a new shirt for him, even though he'd said it was not necessary.
She told him she was wearing the wrong shoes for this kind of activity as they were walking to the mall, and although she was complaining about the smallest things, he knew she was enjoying it too; he saw how she looked up to the sun often, letting its warmth graze her skin, and between quick glances over her shoulders she closed her eyes and told him how much she liked it here because of the city's beauty, the distant rustling of waves and the soft chattering of other people walking by.
Then, he narrowed his eyes as he realized something. "This was just an excuse to go shopping, wasn't it?" he asked her.
She opened her eyes again as she'd just been enjoying the peace the city gave her, and she tried to come off as innocent, placing her fingertips lightly on her chest as her eyes grew wider. "Why would you ever think that?" she said while faking being offended.
He didn't buy it. "Don't tell me you don't like shopping," he said, one eyebrow raised.
She wisely didn't say a word. Not that it changed anything; he already knew the answer.
"You probably want to take a souvenir from every city you've ever been to, preferably a piece of clothing."
She bit her lip playfully, holding back a chuckle. "Well, it is nice to say 'I bought this in Milan' when people ask you where you got that bag from."
He shook his head teasingly and his eyes fell on the leather bag hanging on her arm. He'd noticed it before and it left him wondering what her life was like since the bag exuded luxury, and reckoned it was nothing like his. The bag would be worth a year's rent for him. "Where did you get that bag from?" he asked.
She smiled; it was what she'd wanted to hear. "Montreal." She tapped twice on the leather surface. "It's an old one, though. I got it four years ago when I was visiting the city with my family."
"Well, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it," he said. He had many clothing items that were four years old, or even older. No one ever noticed and for him, there was no reason to replace them.
"I don't like it that much anymore," she said.
This intrigued him and he wanted to know more. "Then why do you still have it?" he asked, eyeing her. She didn't seem like the type who'd wear out-of-fashion items, judging by her timeless white blazer paired with light blue shorts and a striped top. "Sentimental value?"
She avoided his gaze. "Not really." She bit her lip as if unsure of what to say. "I need a new one, anyway. Can I keep my eye out for one while we're shopping?"
