Fighting Redemption(27)

Slinging his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her in for a hard hug. “Love you too, honey.”





Six months later

Fremantle, Western Australia



Dusk was falling when Fin fitted the key in the lock and swung the front door wide.

“I’m home!” she called out. Her voice echoed through the empty space as she wheeled her bags through and tossed her keys on the side table. Slamming the door shut behind her, she walked down the hallway. A glance to her left showed Jake’s empty room, the bed stripped down. Farther down, a glance inside the guest room where Ryan had slept was just as empty.

She walked in the room and closed her eyes, trailing her fingers over the bare mattress. Nothing was left behind, not even the scent of him to remind her he’d even been there.

The phone rang and with a shake of her head, Fin left the room. Fumbling through her bag, she picked it up and answered.

“Finlay?”

“Mum.”

“You’re home, honey? Why didn’t you ring us to come get you?”

Fin walked into the kitchen and reached up, pulling down a bottle of red from her little wine rack. “It’s fine. I just caught a cab.”

“Oh,” her mum muttered, disappointment obvious. “Well. When do we get to see you?”

Fin poured wine into her glass. “Tomorrow? I’m tired, Mum. It’s been a long day.”

“Okay. Lunch?”

“Sounds good. How’s Crookshanks?”

“Your devil cat is just fine.”

Fin sighed as she rested her hip against the kitchen counter. “What’s he done now?”

“He’s clawed grooves into the whole left side of your father’s favourite recliner.”

Fin smothered a laugh. “Poor Dad. I don’t think Crookshanks likes him.”

“That’s an understatement,” her mother muttered.

“Alright, Mum. I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Bye, honey.”

Pushing away from the counter, Fin got to the task of unpacking her suitcase and sorting what needed to be washed. The last thing to come out was the present from Rachael and Laura, buried beneath as many layers of clothes as she could manage. She should have known that the so-called best present that ever lived was one that required batteries. Her face still flamed just thinking about the way the security attendant looked her over while her luggage was being X-rayed. He’d followed it up with a suggestive wink after handing over her bags, leaving her baffled until she arrived at Casey Station and opened the gift.

After relegating the box to the bottom drawer of her bedside table, Fin picked up her laptop and carried it to the living room along with her wine.

After sitting it on the coffee table, she switched it on and the desktop photo greeted her: Ryan in his military uniform; Fin’s gold dress shimmering under the lights as he held her close. Their smiles were bright for the camera, but she could see the sadness in his eyes.

Tapping at the keyboard, she called up the email Ryan sent six weeks ago. It was the only one she’d received from him since she left.



Fin,

We’ve been called up early.

Heading back to Afghanistan in two weeks.

To be honest I can’t wait. Being here when you’re not is like another kind of war because you’re everywhere—your face, your smile, the sweet smell of you. Only it’s a war I can’t seem to fight.

Don’t hope for us, Fin. Please. I can’t have you wasting your life waiting for someone who might never return, and remember what I told you once before—don’t let anyone stop you from being who you need to be.

Be safe.

Ryan



Every time she read over the words, it brought an ache to her chest, and every time she tried to reply, she could never find the words she needed to say.

Jabbing angrily at the keyboard, she closed the email. Instead, she called up the email from Jake that he sent just before they left.



Finny,

I read your last blog post. Nice photos. I wasn’t really sure if that was you in a giant, fluoro parka or just a big orange in the snow. I’m voting for orange.

I showed everyone here your photo of the Southern Lights. Kyle thinks you’re in the wrong career and should be a photographer for National Geographic, but he’s probably just hoping to one day get in your pants so don’t let him near you.

I’m honestly hurt that Tanner thinks so low of me. You can trust me, Fin - Kyle.

As I was saying—don’t let him near you!

Dad pitched a shit fit when I dropped Crookshanks off at their place. You know they’ve never seen eye to eye. I can rest happy knowing I’ve been knocked off the number one position on Dad’s shit list. That honour now belongs to you.

Hope you got home safe. Dad was going to mow the lawns for you, but if you’ve come home to overgrown weeds, you’ll know why.

Love you,

Jake.



Picking up her wine, Fin sipped at it as she flicked the television on. With the background noise for company, she tapped out a reply.



Jake,

Home safe. No overgrown weeds noted. Maybe that means when I pick up Crookshanks tomorrow his fur will be shaved off. Mum’s just told me he clawed the shit out of Dad’s recliner, so the two of us will be lying low for a while.