Emily sat on stage and focused on her hands, a tidal wave of emotions rolling over her. Mr. Waters spoke to the crowd, and she heard nothing but the ringing in her ears.

The swell started with shame at her reaction to seeing Finn. Her heart had double-timed at the deep rumble of the single syllable of her name, Finn the only one who called her Em. The heat stirring in her lower half at the sight of him, his silver suit, the tie that complimented his ocean-depth eyes. Stupid fingers desperate to trace the firm line of his jaw, like a magnet drawn to steel.

The wave morphed into disgust at giving in to his request to talk. She should have walked away. Left him in her dust as he had eight years ago. Loathing herself for wanting to know what he had to say, hoping it could be words of remorse, of contrition, of apology. Silly her. Finn had nothing to be sorry about.

Indignation spilled forth when Finn yelled at Mary, the dam breaking and her composure flying out the window. The pain, the doubts she'd carried in the corner of her heart, blurted out in a torrent of condemnations. Finn staring at her, mouth a gap, saying nothing.

Until anger boiled in her veins at his accusations, like she was somehow responsible for pushing him away. "You abandoned me." He'd said. How could he voice such a lie? She'd spend a summer proving to him with every breath her commitment to him. And she'd kept proving it, wearing the charm he'd given her around her neck for almost a decade.

The warm metal brushed against her throat as she tried to force oxygen into her lungs. She'd held on to the anchor charm, the only piece of him she had left. The proof of her dedication on display for him to see every time he or anyone bothered to look. But he hadn't mentioned the charm once. Another reminder he didn't care.

Except he'd sworn he did care. Her gaze flew to the corner of the bar where they'd stood and he'd shouted, "I care." Not cared. Current tense. Then the wave crested with confusion. Nothing made sense anymore. She was swimming against a riptide and her limbs were tiring.

"Ms. Montgomery has a few thoughts on the matter."

The mention of her name and her boss's grin shocked Emily out of the swirl in her mind. Hands clutching her notes, she rose, took the microphone. With a smile, she recited the words she'd written on a piece of paper. They elicited a few laughs in the appropriate places, and when over, a round of applause from the audience. She handed a plaque to her retiring coworker and resumed her seat as he gave his acceptance speech.

Relief washed over her at the friendly face of Lance, who offered to help her off the stage. He was always constant, someone she could depend on. "You had them in the palm of your hand." She attempted a smile at his wink. "I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and drew out an envelope.

Mary sidled up to them. "What's that?"

Lance offered the note to Emily. "Finn asked me to give this to you."

A stream of sensations accosted her. Shaky fingers reached for the envelope and the glimmer of hope betrayed all her plans to walk away from Finn. Curiosity and anticipation swam in her chest.

"Let me see that." Mary snatched at the paper.

"Hey." Lance jerked the envelope away. "It's for Emily. Not you."

Her sister made another attempt to take possession of the envelope. Once again unsuccessful, she accosted Emily. "Don't read it. Ignore this. Go to New York with a clean slate."

Emily took the letter from Lance and glared at her sister. "But you don't want me to go to New York."

"I changed my mind." Mary's chin jutted forward. "Don't let him derail you again."

The smooth paper crinkled in Emily's hand. "Again?" Her scalp prickled. "What do you mean again?"

Mary's lips rolled inward. "Don't look at me like that. The last time sailor boy trucked into your life, you were all set to rearrange your life to satisfy his whims."

"I was not."

"No?" She waved a hand between them. "You'd moved out of the dorm. What was next? Dropping out of university altogether?"

Emily gaped at her sister. "Where I lived would never have affected my education. Finn insisted our apartment be as close as possible to ensure I went to school. He refused to live with me otherwise."

Mary huffed and crossed her arms. "For how long? He'd drag you down, eventually."

The ringing in Emily's ears thrummed through her body. This again, this constant obsession with status, with how people reflected on Mary rather than accepting them for who they were. Where had her sister come to rely on this as a measure of a person's worth? "I was making a life with him. That's what you do when you love someone. It's about compromise. "

Lance's palms landed on Emily's shoulders and twisted her to face him. "Emily. The letter."

She blinked. Right. Her stomach flipped like a fish out of water. "Do you know what's in it?"

The impish grin of Lance caused her diaphragm to constrict. "I have an idea." His eyes flew to the page in her hand. "Read it."

With a nod, Emily moved away from Lance and Mary, ignoring her sisters' pleas to stop. She slipped into the ladies' bathroom and locked herself into the furthest stall. Back against cold tile, she considered the envelope.

Two letters were scrawled across the front in slanted handwriting she'd recognize anywhere. E and M. Butterflies flapped their wings against her ribcage. She tore at the seal and two sheets of paper spilled onto the floor. One pristine and white, the other a small beige square covered in clear plastic.

Scooping them up, she unfolded the first letter and gasped at the paragraphs of words he'd written. For her. She devoured each one.

Em,

If you are reading this letter, I know there is hope.

These last few weeks have been the best of my life, excluding our summer together. Just to be near you makes my world brighter, better. If you were here now, you would tease me about not doing a very good job of showing it. I have been distant, sullen and worse - angry. Most of all, I have been incredibly insensitive and downright stupid. For this, I am so very sorry. You have been nothing but kind and generous. Doing your best to do the right thing for all of us. Just as my sweet Em always has since the day we met.

I wish I could say the moment I saw you again, I was honest and told you straight away that my feelings for you have never changed. Never wavered. That I don't care about what happened to us back then. That I want to be part of your life. In any way. Friends, at the least. But I squandered my chance. And my second chance.

I'm being honest now. Better late than never?

I love you, Em.

Have since the day you walked into the Waterfront bar and every day since. I don't think I will ever stop loving you. No, I know I won't. Even if you reject me now, my love will always be here.

If I'm too late ... well, I'll have to try to understand. Please tell me I'm not. Tell me you could find it in your heart to love me again. Tell me there is a chance for us.

If you can, call me anytime. My cell phone is 866-614-4371. Day or night. I'll be waiting, hoping.

Yours always,

Finn

A drop of water spattered on the page and Emily hastily wiped it away, not wanting to sully the perfection in her hands. The world around her blurred, and she wiped the moisture from her eyes.

Finn loved her.

Emily squeezed her eyelids shut and tested the words, saying them out loud. "Finn loves me." The most remarkable calm descended over her like a warm blanket. The drama, the turmoil, the pain slipped away like the late evening tide, replaced by assurance. Confidence.

Whatever was, whatever had happened, the past was the past and right now Finn loved her. The holes in her heart filled with the gooey glue of his love. It slid into the cracks, patching them. His words pushed aside the doubts of these last weeks.

Knees giving way, her back slid down the tiled wall. Her fingers found the warm metal of his anchor at the base of her throat. It hadn't been in vain. Her sob echoed in the empty bathroom, the exhalation of eight years of waiting.

She'd held on and he'd come back to her.

A lightness bloomed in her chest and Emily read the letter again, this time noticing the extra line at the bottom.

P.S. You have every right to doubt me. As proof of my unwavering love for you, I've enclosed the most precious item I own. It's been with me day and night, serving as my good luck charm for every mission, my constant reminder that you once loved me. The only thing I had of you, except for the love in my heart.

With trembling hands, Emily picked up the plastic covered square that had accompanied the letter. With care, she removed the single page and spread it open. Darkened edges framed the practically see-through paper which looked like it had been unfolded and refolded a thousand times.

She recognized her faded-blue inked handwriting. This was the letter she had written to him before leaving for Japan.

Dear Finn,

I know you are wondering why my sister is giving you this letter. I've told you not to trust her in the past, but this one time I have to ask you to put that advice aside. There was just no other way I could ensure you got the message.

Mary can explain everything in detail. But I'm leaving town tonight for Japan. I know it's sudden and you will be disappointed in my decision, but I feel like I have no other choice. Please try to understand and don't be too upset. I'm sorry.

Emily turned the page over.

It was blank.

Her breath caught in her throat. The pieces of the puzzle plaguing her for years, falling into place. The picture they formed a grotesque concept.

"No." Her weak whisper swallowed by the grief gripping her heart. Hand clamped over her mouth, she attempted to hold back the anguished howl. She failed.

The tears streaming down her face hit her lips, tasting of salt. No way to staunch them. She cried for Finn. For her. For them. For the years of pain, years of separation, years of longing.