[18+] - CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Traumatized by life and grief-stricken, a young ex-soldier returns to his hometown hellbent on pursuing the woman he loves - a woman who is now someone else's fiancée.
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When she was fourteen, Love Johnson wrote a lett...
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Jonathan launched himself on the street where the town's only police station lay with his hands shoved inside the pockets of his long overcoat. His footsteps were hurried and his tall shadow covered half of the street. His boots thump over the concrete, the sound echoing musically.
His mind was overflowing with theories of what he might find. The knowledge that Landon Furey had been in jail was his Newton's Falling Apple moment. Now all he needed to see was what crime was Landon in for. He couldn't stop his lips from forming a smile as he came nearer to the precinct.
Once he stepped inside, his body was instantly greeted with the warmth of the space and he sighed in relief. After having done his identity checking, he was given a special permit and was joined by a pretty officer who was willing to guide him toward the information desk.
"Mr. Jonathan Evans would like to take a look at our records," she said to the person at the information desk and the old officer looked up, seeing Jonathan behind her.
"Oh, Jonathan? Is that really you?" the old man asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.
He looked about Jonathan's Dad's age with whitening hair on the sides of his head, a small mustache, and a thin face. His body was of a firmer built and appeared tall even with him sitting down.
Of all the things he could remember, Jonathan didn't remember anything about the old man. The fact that a stranger looked at him so knowingly was rather strange since he couldn't put the man's face with a name in his mind.
"Huh...yes, Mr..." He blushed in embarrassment as the man gave a chuckle seeing his hesitation.
"It's me. Pearson, boy. I was your father's friend. You don't remember, do you?" the man chuckled, getting up from his seat whilst taking a key out from a bottom drawer.
"I'm sorry, sir. It's been a long time," Jonathan confessed politely as the man came out of his cubicle, gesturing for the Officer to go away as he would be the one taking care of him now.
The lady police walked away without a second glance and Jonathan was left alone with the stranger who seemed to know him so well.
"A long time it has been." The man nodded, walking straight ahead where a narrow corridor ended with a grey, metal door at the far end. "I didn't think you would ever return, Jonathan. Your father's death was a tragic blow to most of us in town. He was a very good man. I'm sorry for your loss."
Pearson was perhaps not the kind who thought twice before speaking and for some reason, his father's name being thrown from the man's mouth so suddenly didn't affect Jonathan at all. Instead, it made him feel like he had gotten used to the fact that Dad was no more. He had toughened up over the days.
"Thanks, sir," Jonathan rasped as the man stopped at the grey door.
Fumbling for the keys in the chain, he opened the lock and they both stepped into a darkened space which was lightened later when Pearson switched on the lights.
