A wave of regret washed over me. Why? Why did I let myself do that? For an entire year, I had managed to ignore him. Yet I started it again, fully aware that the blame rests solely on my shoulders. Despite the lessons of the heart that echo in my mind, I find myself helplessly drawn back into the embrace of love's intoxicating allure.

It was a quiet Tuesday night, the kind where the world outside seemed to hold its breath. I began to tidy up the place. My hands moved instinctively over the familiar surfaces, each movement imbued with a bittersweet longing, as if the very air around me held the promise that he would come. The Marine barracks is a ten-minute walk away from here. He should've shown up by now if he truly wanted to see me. Perhaps this was for the best. Yet, a part of me simmered with anger. Wasn’t this what I had wanted all along? For him to make a choice?

"Fuck, I could really use a drink right now," I sighed, the weight of boredom settling heavily upon me.

"Yep, same here... Make two," Mr. Tucker chimed in, with his eyes glued on his screen. Frustration etched on his face as if he were in the same situation as I am.

As I poured the rum and Coke, the door swung open. A gust of cool evening air swept in, accompanied by the unmistakable presence of a man who seemed to command attention effortlessly. My heart raced as if the world had paused just for us. There he stood, looking the same as ever— rugged, handsome, and heartbreakingly familiar. With firm steps, he walks in. Letting the warm amber glow of the bar wrap around him like an embrace. His dark blonde hair was cut short and neat, with a polished finish that highlighted his chiselled features. A well-defined nose, strong yet elegant, lent an air of rugged sophistication to his face, while a five o'clock shadow traced the line of his jaw, adding to his allure. The faint scent of saltwater clung to him, a reminder of the sea, conjuring images of his pale skin contrasting against the deep blue and the thrill of adventure beckoning just beyond the horizon.

"Gunner!" Mr. Tucker's sharp voice jolted me from my trance. "Long time no see boy!"

"Mr. Tucker! Yo man... Believe me, if it were up to me, I'd be here every day," Gunner said, flashing a charming smile as he glanced my way.

But that smile faltered when he caught the hint of anger in my eyes that was struggling to conceal the joy bubbling inside of me.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and laden with emotion.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.

He approached, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, a nervous energy radiating off him. “Can we talk?”

“About what? The same old story?” I couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped into my words. "I’m not some dog that wags its tail every time you call.” I struggled out of my throat, which seemed to be filled with grief.

My eyes started to burn, poised to spill a mix of joy and sorrow.

"Ahem..." Mr. Tucker cleared his throat, plainly demanding our attention. "Imma go... Sylvester, mind closing up? Don't forget to turn off all the lights and the TV too, and make sure you lock the door!"

"That's a copy, sir," Gunner replied in my stead.

"Damn right, Gunner. Be seeing ya... Oh, and boys... Play nice, okay?" My boss strolled to the front door, determined to leave this tension as soon as he could.

The bell jingled as the door closed, leaving a quiet stillness in the cosy space until Gunner broke the silence. “Please, just hear me out,” he pleaded, stepping closer. “I don’t want to lose you.”

But he was already losing me. I could feel it, that tightrope we walked, the way he pulled me into his world only to shove me back out when reality hits.