Unfinished Business
Emily
I recognized the back of his head before he turned around.
Some things stay stamped into you no matter how many months you spend trying to scrub them out, the exact slope of a man's shoulders, the particular way he ran a hand through his hair when he was pretending to be relaxed. Tristan stood at the reception desk of my hospital's east wing, one elbow propped against the marble counter like he owned the building, chatting up the receptionist with a smile I'd once mistaken for charm.
My feet stopped moving on their own.
"Ma'am?" The nurse beside me followed my gaze. "Is everything all right?"
"Fine." The word scraped out of me dry. "Give me a minute."
I could have walked the other direction. Taken the stairwell, gone around through the surgical wing, avoide
