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My friend Heather cornered me the moment she heard her brother, Henry, was back in the city. “Amber,” she’d whispered, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “I’m throwing him a welcome home party and need you to be there! He’s been gone for so long, and you know…you know how I feel about you and him. Just…take care of him for me, okay?”
Henry was a ruggedly handsome military man, fresh from some top-secret Pentagon assignment. He was the kind of man who made you forget your own name, especially when he was wearing that crisp uniform. I wandered into Heather’s living room and there he was, looking as fine as ever, surrounded by friends and relatives. The air crackled when he looked in my direction. Heather had given me the go-ahead, a playful shove towards destiny, and my heart was doing a frantic drum solo against my ribs.








