2. Logan
LOGAN
Savanna hasn’t changed much in eleven years. She strides with confidence up the path that leads to the treatment clinic at Jake’s Retreat. Her blonde hair is tied back into a ponytail, and her chin juts out, as full of confidence at twenty-nine as she was at eighteen.
Her figure has filled out into womanly curves, and her loose pants hug her ass that has rounded into a perfect peach.
From this distance, I can’t see her face properly, but I remember every inch of it. I remember her wide eyes and shy smile, and how it transformed into a wide beam when she turned it on me. I remember her girlish laugh and her enthusiasm for everything.
I’m not foolish enough to think she’ll be exactly the same. No one is exactly how they were at eighteen. I just hope some of that light is still there.
She doesn’t see me. I’m standing in the memorial garden, tucked away from the main path. Part of me wants her to turn around and notice me. The other part is terrified of what she’ll do if she does.
But I had to see her. As soon as I arrived this morning, I headed for the main treatment facility. I’m supposed to be at orientation, but I didn’t want to miss Savanna arriving at work. I’ve waited a long time to see Savanna Hart again, and I couldn’t wait another moment.
My first appointment with her is this afternoon, and anticipation pulses through my veins.
I’ve waited a long time to meet the woman I left behind over a decade ago.
She was barely a woman then, just out of high school and on her way to college.
Smart and beautiful, and so damn young. I was almost thirty, and that age gap didn’t look good.
It’s why I tried to keep it innocent, but the damn woman got under my skin.
I told myself I was doing the right thing when I broke up with Savanna, that I couldn’t expect a woman so young and with her own ambitions to become a military wife, to follow me around from base to base and never know where I was or whether I was coming home.
I saw how that played out with my father, and it wasn’t good, not for his first wife or his second. Maybe number three’s the charm for him.
I told myself leaving Savanna was the kind thing to do. But damn, I’ve thought about her every day for the past eleven years. I thought her memory would fade, but when missions got rough on long nights in the desert, it’s the memory of her that got me through.
I saw special operatives’ marriages fall apart, as well as my father’s marriages, and it confirmed my decision was the right one, but it didn’t mean I stopped thinking about her.
And here I am, eleven years later, recovering from one dislocated shoulder too many and about to walk into her clinic.
I have no idea if she even remembers me, if I was just a young girl’s infatuation.
She probably hasn’t thought about me for years.
Savanna enters the building, and the door swings shut behind her. I let out a long sigh. I’ve got four hours before my appointment with her.
I pull out my phone, and a message pops up reminding me it’s my father’s birthday. I send him a quick text. There’s no point in waiting for a reply. Gordon barely remembers to message me on my birthday. I guess he’s too busy with his third wife and their young kids.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and stand up to stretch my legs.
Jake’s Retreat is nice; the gardens are beautiful, and it’s peaceful with the mountain setting. A buddy of mine, Jace, spent some time here and now lives in Hope, the local town. I send him a text to meet up later. Then I head down the path to join the orientation.