Emily charged up the stairs. No time to wait for the elevator.
In her hand was the one thing she'd searched eight long years for. A way to contact Finn. Directly.
He'd written her a letter. So old fashioned. So perfect. She shoved aside the guilt of not listening to him when he'd approached her earlier. He'd tried to tell her in person, she could see that now. Luckily, Finn seemed to have a back up plan.
The door to her office slammed against the wall with the force of Emily's shove. Diving for her purse, she fished out her phone and forced her trembling hands to calm so she could dial. After two attempts, she finally got the number right. With no idea what she was going to say, Emily bounced as it rang. Her stomach flipped when she heard his voice.
"This is Finn Wainwright. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."
The buzz in her chest hiccuped with disappointment at the fact she only got his voicemail. "Finn. It's me. Emily." Laughter mixed with her attempts to catch her breath. "I read your letter. I... I love you too. Your words... oh, please please call me back. I love you. I love you."
She hung up and tried again. His voicemail again. Part of her thrilled she could punch in a few numbers and hear his voice. But she wanted to hear other words than an professional, emotionless recording. The sentiments in his letter. From him.
Unable to sit still, she paced across the front of her desk. He'd been at the party so he couldn't have left town yet. Had he signed his contract to renew for another four years? Her stomach cramped at the thought. He couldn't leave her again.
Finn Wainwright loved her.
His letter said everything she ever wanted to hear. They could work anything out. Together.
On her fifth pass by the desk, Emily realized she hadn't given him a number to call her back.
Not confident she could remember her own number at this point, Emily tried texting. The act of typing allowed her to be a little more rational, giving her the chance to edit. Her note repeated her proclamations of love and gave him every number she had, including the one to her father's condo.
Emily sent the text then stared out the window of her office. Outside the streetlights shone like beacons in the darkened streets slick with rain. Where was Finn?
He'd call. They'd be together soon. She had no option but to wait.
No. Enough of her life had been spent waiting. Emily grabbed her purse and raincoat and sprinted out of her office.
She had to get to that base.
Emily refused to let trifles like if they would even let her on to the base this late, never mind find Finn, hold her back. If there was a chance he was still here, nothing would stop her.
In the reception area, Emily pressed the button for the elevator and barely noticed George standing at the desk. Once upon a time, the man in the black suit before her had been her family's chauffeur. But as money got tighter and her father had to 'trim the budget', things like personal limos quickly fell by the wayside. Luckily, Lance's father had saved the day, bringing George over as a driver for the law firm.
"You'll need more than that flimsy coat if you're going out in this weather, Miss Montgomery." The older gentleman admonished in his broad New England accent.
Emily had always liked George. He was attentive, kind and considerate, feeling a little like the grandfather she had never had. In her university years, he often picked her up to bring her home for holidays or special occasions. That first year after Finn disappeared, when it was obvious she was struggling, he offered words of comfort and a stream of tissues, never denying her emotions. Unlike her family.
She smiled at him as they entered the elevator together. "I just hope I can find a cab." Emily grimaced. On a sunny day, finding a taxi was sometimes difficult. In this downpour, it might be near impossible. Why did she have to leave her car at home today of all days?
The day she found out, Finn still had feelings for her. The day she could see a future for herself again. The day she could imagine a life together with the man she loved. A tingle ran up Emily's spine.
"Sorry?" George had said something, but she'd missed it, caught up in thoughts of finding Finn.
"I said, I'm off duty now. I could give you a ride."
Under any other circumstances, she would never have taken George up on his offer, not wanting to take advantage of his kindness or long lost sense of obligation. But today she wanted to kiss the man. "Really? Are you sure?"
"Now, Miss Montgomery." George's cheeks darkened. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."
She followed him to the car and insisted on sitting in the passenger's seat up front instead of in the back. When he asked where she needed to go, the story of the last hour poured out of her.
Only when she had a moment to think, as George sped through the back streets towards the base did the idea occur to Emily that Finn might not be at the base. He could have gone to see his brother in Bridgetown. Or he might be out at another club with Max and Campbell. Her fingers curled into a fist at the last thought.
"Oh George, can we go any faster?"
Please, please, let him still be there, Emily begged any of the fates listening. If only she could talk to him before he signed his contract for another four years in the Navy. Or better yet, convince him not to go at all. But she had to talk to him first.
Turned out getting on the base was easy, her badge granting her entrance, even at this late hour. The front guard was surprisingly helpful, but wouldn't let George and the car beyond the visitor's area. After thanking George for the ride and sending him home, Emily attempted to jog to the barracks hoping she'd find him there. She cursed her ambition to be different and wear the only pair of stilettos she owned on this night, the spiked shoes slowing her down.
By the time she entered the building, the rain had soaked through her cotton jacket and the silk of her dress. Despite the cold seeping into her skin, Emily brimmed with a heady mixture of hope and excitement as she knocked on his door.
"Emily?"
The voice didn't belong to Finn, but maybe the second best thing. "Max. Do you know where Finn is?"
"He's running a training exercise." Max pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
The tension in Emily's shoulders evaporated. He was here. "Any chance you could take me to him?"
"Sorry." Max's lips sank. "It's approved personnel only."
Her stomach sank. Wait it was then. At least he hadn't left the base. He'd return. She simply had to be patient.
"Want me to go grab him?"
Emily's eyes burned. "Oh Max, would you? It's really important I see him."
"He'd want to know you're here." Max pushed opened the door to the lounge and ushered Emily in. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
Emily's already racing heart kicked into overdrive, and she paced around the couch and kitchenette counter and practiced what to say to Finn. Her mouth felt dry and her palms were sweaty. Catching her reflection in the microwave oven window, she winced. Most of her make up had been rubbed off in the bathroom with Mary. And the rain had ruined more than her clothing. Wild tendrils had fallen out of her carefully crafted french roll. In an effort to look presentable for him, she tried to rearrange her dripping hair into some sort of decent style.
The door at the opposite end of the room sprung open causing Emily to jump. She twisted to see the man she loved stumble into the room. Her body relaxed at the sight of him as a sense of assurance ran through her. He was here. Everything was going to be okay.
Dressed in army fatigues, Finn looked every bit the sailor, reminding Emily of what was at stake. As he rubbed the back of his neck, his long legs carried him with confidence. "Max, don't push. What's so important I had to risk—".
He looked up and caught sight of Emily. Then stumbled. Soon righting himself, his body stiffened. His expression, serious but soft moments before, turned to stone and after meeting her eyes for a fleeting moment, he quickly looked away.
Every cell in Emily screamed to run and embrace Finn. Instead, she turned her attention to Max. "Thanks for finding him." She thought Finn flinched at her words. Her heart was breaking. This reaction was not good. Did he not realize why she was here?
"My pleasure, ma'am." Max backed out of the room. Before the door fully closed, Emily barreled towards Finn, his name on her lips.
She stopped short when he stepped back, as if afraid of her. The visible pain in his expression stabbed at her insides. "I'm so sorry You know I'd never hurt you." These weren't the words she'd practiced, the wrong ones falling out of her mouth. He stared at a spot somewhere over her shoulder, back ramrod straight.
"Finn, please look at me." She gingerly walked forward. This time, he did not move away, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. "There's been a mistake." Her voice broke on the last word.
He sucked in a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "No, no." She flung out her hand in desperation. Fingers clutched his note as if waving a white flag against his anguish. "Your letter. Lance gave it to me."
At last, he blinked. With the slightest motion, the ocean of blue she longed to connect with finally met her gaze. "You read it?" he whispered.
"Yes." She inched closer. "I called you right away. But it went to voicemail."
"My..." He swallowed. "My phone is off. Protocol."
Emily nodded. He seemed to need her understanding. "I didn't know what to do, so I came here." Another step towards him. "To find you."
"Why?" The word was so quiet, she wasn't sure Finn actually said it. His hand moved to the spot over his heart, massaging his chest.
"You know why." She closed the gap, leaving only inches between them. To stop the nervous motion wrinkling his shirt, she laid her palm over his moving fingers, gently asking them to still. "Because I love you."
A wretched ragged breath, half sob, half groan erupted from him. He sucked in more air and forced out another rush, this one a little less tormented.
With firm pressure, she entwined her fingers in his, tugged his hand away from his chest, and laid them over her own heart.
"This heart beats for you." The very organ threatened to burst out of her chest. Before her, Finn's eyes softened slightly, taking on a glossy veneer. "I never stopped loving you."
"Are you sure?"
Unable to suppress a smile she gave in to the wave of sensation washing over her. "Yes, Finn. I'm very sure. It's only ever been you. I will always love you."
At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to embrace him, or reach up and press her lips against his. This time not in a distracted spur-of-the-moment way, but in a purposefully determined show of affection.
But Emily resisted. In this relationship, she always made the first move. Finn needed to take the lead now. To show her he meant the words in his letter.
To prove he would not run away from her like last time. Because no matter what Mary had done, Finn had still boarded that bus eight years ago.