Does true love deserve a second chance?
The summer before university, Emily met and fell in love with Finn. It was a love to stand the test of time. Until Finn disappeared without so much as a goodbye. Eight years later, a twist of fate brings Finn...
Fatigues were so easy, so simple. Plus, Finn was used to them. No wardrobe clashes, just reach in a pull out a clean blue and grey patterned shirt, matching pants, army boots. No need to think.
Of course, he could have worn his formals stateside. It would have made a statement, made the girls notice him. One girl in particular. He'd dismissed the idea - the navy-blue jacket was restrictive and the shiny buttons screamed military.
Instead, Finn had rummaged through the small pile of casual clothes he kept on hand at the base and pulled out a new pair of dark jeans and a crisp white shirt.
He wiped away the sand from his eye. Well, there couldn't be any sand, he'd left the desert days ago, but it was a force of habit. He would swear on his honour there was sand everywhere like an amputee still feels pain in a leg that is no longer there.
That's it. Focus on the desert and the testimony he had to give Finn told himself. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could be back on a plane overseas. Far, far away from everything and everyone.
Stepping off the elevator, Finn was greeted by a young man practically encased in a solid wooden desk. The dark panelling repeated itself on the walls, complimenting the hunter green coloured furniture and lush potted plants. It all attempted to give the office an atmosphere of wealth and prestige. Yes, Emily would fit right in here.
Flashing him a smile, the receptionist greeted Finn, practically bouncing in his seat. "Can I help you?"
"Finn Wainwright. I have an appointment with Lance Simpson."
"Ah yes, Mr. Wainwright," he muttered checking the small tablet in his hand. "Mr. Simpson will be right out. Can I get you a coffee or tea while you wait?"
Finn shook his head and headed over to the set of matching plush leather couches separated by a low table littered with glossy magazines.
The hair at the base of his neck rubbed uncomfortably on the shirt's stiff collar as he sat down. Running his hands through his unruly hair, Finn reminded himself to put 'get a hair cut' on his to-do list. His last rotation had been six weeks and his normally chocolate brown mop was bleached at the tips by the harsh sun and starting to curl. The last time it was close to being this long, he had been a gangly teenager.
The thought made him frown. A trip down memory lane was never a good idea. Inevitably it would lead to thoughts of her.
She was here, somewhere. In this building. Finn could almost feel Emily. Instinctively he kept alert, his head swivelling towards movement in the corridor beyond the empty waiting room. Constantly looking for any signs of a petite woman with auburn hair.
Over the years he had kept close tabs on Emily Montgomery. Google was his friend, making it child's play to track her from university to law school to her current position with the law firm.
He told himself looking Emily up online was idle curiosity or a recognizance mission to ensure he avoided the woman who had stomped on his heart. The heart which had been Emily's since the moment he first saw her.
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