Navy Blue - A Second Chance Romance (Complete)

Navy Blue: Chapter 23

Sat in the back of the cab as it rolled away from The Playground, Emily willed her hands not to shake as she texted Kerri.

Emily: I've gone home. Chat on Tuesday at girls' night.

Emily: Want to hear about the bouncer.

Three dots danced on her screen immediately

Kerri: Want to hear about the sailor

Emily tossed the phone in her clutch and pressed her eyelids shut. She immediately regretted the motion. Each time she closed her eyes, the sight of Finn kissing a stranger replayed like a boomerang video on Instagram in Emily's head.

The scene she'd witnessed on the dance floor at The Playground was typical behaviour for Finn, according to his wingman, Max.

What had she expected?

How stupid she'd been, pining away for Finn when he probably hadn't given her a second thought after entering basic training. All this time, she kept a vigil for a man who didn't exist anymore. Emily had never truly allowed herself to admit she had been waiting for him to return to her, secretly hoping they would be together.

She'd refused to date, avoided men who were interested in her, guarding her heart in a meaningless bid to save it for Finn. Thought what they had together was special. Convinced he was the only one for her. In her soul, she believed their love was one in a million, true blue. They would be together again one day. They just needed to find the right time.

Their love was a grand illusion. Their ultimate reunion; a silly fantasy. A lie she told herself. Their time was gone. Her version of Finn was gone. Their love was gone.

The lump in her throat caught and the shame of letting the romantic notions of Sophie, Kerri and even Beth persuade her there was something there flamed across her chest. She cringed at how she donned a pretty dress, put on makeup, spent time curling her hair—all to impress a man who was past impacting. Oh, how her heart had fluttered when he asked her to stay.

Now she could see clearly. He didn't want her for himself. Upon reflection, it was painfully obvious his reason was Max. The man had a bit of a crush on her. Finn was only helping his friend.

She'd played right into their plans, listening intently as Max related censored but funny or daring escapades, Finn staring as the hero in each one. It was impossible not to appreciate the man's admiration for his fellow sailor. For she had the same sensation when Finn was in her life. On many occasions, he'd been her own personal hero.

Max had her laughing with a story about the lengths Finn had gone to pay for a round of drinks, including exchanging money for a round of karaoke. She couldn't imagine Finn standing on a stage belting out I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor.

"I don't know how he does it."

Emily had followed Max's line of sight until her eyes hit upon Finn on the dance floor. Her hero bent over a skinny brunette in a skimpy dress filled to bursting, his tongue down her throat.

The mojitos from earlier had churned in her stomach and threatened to make a reappearance. One of Finn's large hands was wrapped around the waist of the woman who hung off him like he was the last life raft on a sinking ship.

"Always snags the hottest women." Max's awe had mixed with the harpoon lancing its way through her heart and Emily had had to look away. A weak "always" had escaped her lips.

"Oh, yes. Every port we pull into, Finn finds a girl. It's one of his special skills." Max still beamed with admiration, but Emily wasn't interested in hearing more of his stories.

There in the club, she'd seen in full living colour how much and how different the current Finn was from the precious man she'd cherished for years. Her heart shattered into a million little pieces. It wasn't pain she felt; she was used to that sensation. The familiar ache had been with her for years. This was a cold kick. An empty void now sat where her heart had once been.

With a jerk, the cab came to a stop. "That'll be $37.50."

Emily handed the driver a fifty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."

"Thanks." He eyed her in the rear-view mirror as she swung open the door. "You okay ma'am."

The formality of his address crackled in her ear. Finn had insisted on calling her by that name, and she hadn't taken the hint. Despite trying to keep her personal and professional life separate, she'd utterly failed.

Emily forced a smile. "I will be."

In the elevator, she dug her fingernails into her palms to keep the tears from flowing. The corridor to her condo door seemed twice as long tonight as she tried not to run down the hall. A few more steps and she'd be in her apartment. Then she could fall apart.

The illuminated skyline of Arlington washed her living room with an orange glow. Emily didn't bother to turn on a light, stumbling to her couch. Her tears soaked into the soft cotton of the embroidered pillow Beth made for her birthday last year. A scene from Paris, the city of love Emily had never visited.

She'd sealed her heart in amber the day she returned from Japan to find Finn hadn't waited. Mary had refused to drive her to the military base, but Emily was determined to see him. Convinced there had been a mistake, she'd crept out of the lake house early in the morning and had taken two buses to get to Washington. The Sergeant at the gate had laughed at her pleas to see Finn, informing her there was no way he could let her in. His cold eyes held no sympathy when he told her she'd have to wait for the new recruit to either bottom out or contact her.

For weeks, she waited for a call. She carried her phone around with her everywhere, sleeping and showering with it nearby. Every unknown number answered, since Finn didn't have a phone of his own.

He never called.

Because he didn't want to. He'd never loved her. And she hadn't seen it.

She'd screwed everything up. Her life, maybe her career and worst of all, potentially Lieutenant Casey's defence. Years of repressing her feelings had kept her calm and cool in and out of the courtroom, but a few days in Finn's presence and she'd turned into an angsty teenager.

Finn didn't want her. She'd have to live with that. But she couldn't live with the guilt of losing Lieutenant Casey's court-martial.

Emily checked her watch. It was too late to call Lance now. Instead, she dragged herself to her home office and flipped on the light. Not bothering to change, she sat in her party dress at her desk and copied files into a folder. Her keyboard clacked as she typed up her notes on the malfunctioning auto pilot system and what she'd discussed with Finn.

With a list of questions to ask during the court-martial complete, Emily sent the documents to Lance's work email. She set her alarm for 8 a.m. to call Lance and explain why she couldn't be at the court-martial.

She shuffled into her bedroom and was about to crawl under the covers when her phone rang. "Sam?"

"Hey D'Artagnan." Sam's normally jovial voice sounded rough. "I know it's late. But I need a lawyer."