Page 22 of Never Too Late

“He’s struggling... Jae. Has he ever mentioned why?” I know it’s a forward question. One I have no right to know the answer to, but my mouth acts quicker than my mind. Before I know what I’m saying, I’ve already said it.

“Not really. We haven’t spoken much about why he is. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about that, so I haven’t pushed him for it.” She lifts her head up slightly to pause writing in her notepad, offering me a sad smile. She stills for a moment, her eyes trailing along the chain on my neck. “Hey, your dog tags. He wears similar ones like that too. I noticed them on him today actually. That’s cool. He’s really nice. He could do with getting to know some more people in the area too.”

Dog tags.

Jae.

Jae and dog tags.

This can’t be happening.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” I shiver as I quickly brush my hair away from my eyes, then bring my hand down to rub over my face. I need to get out of here. I can’t breathe. Pushing myself away from the table, I abruptly stand. “Hey Jackie, send a text to Ty yeah? Let him know he has a coffee and sandwich waiting. Can you tell him I’ve got to go. I can’t be here right now. He’ll understand, thanks.” I don’t think about what I’m doing or what I’m saying.

All I know is that I need to leave.

And before either of them can stop me, I’m out the door. Running round the back of the shop to retrieve my bike as fast as I can.

Chapter twelve

Dax

“I tried my hardest to forget you. But the more I tried to, the more I couldn’t.”

I don’t stop to think as I run as fast as I can to the car park behind the shop and hope Ty doesn't see me or question what’s happened. Because right now, I don’t know what to say to anyone. Let alone know what to think or do.

"Your dog tags, he wears similar ones like that too."

Of course, Jae would have similar dog tags to me because the ones I wear every day belong to him.

His name, his identification number.

It isn’t the same Jae. It can’t be.

But that isn’t the information playing on my mind on a constant loop.

He’s struggling.

The thought of Jae struggling makes me feel physically sick, and before long I notice I am uncontrollably crying, feeling the tears weigh down my lashes, while desperately trying to keep my focus on riding along the narrow roads towards the cliffs. I hold on tighter to brace myself for the swift corner I’ve come to, wishing in the back of my mind I didn’t wear my helmet. Stupid thought. But I would be able to see through the shield more clearly.

Multiple questions play over and over again in my head, asking myself why would he be here, how could it be possible for him to be here? and who did he come here with?

Did he bring someone here?

Would he?

But each question leads back to the same answer.

Jae can’t be here because he’s in Afghanistan

Jae is still in Afghanistan for three more months.

Jae can’t be here.

He. Can’t. Be. Here.

Adrenaline runs through my veins at high speed, the impact blocking out everything else around me. My body has already gone numb from the cold wind colliding with me as I grip onto the handles firmly. And after an eighteen-minute ride, I’m at the walkway of my safe haven.

Frantically throwing my leg over the seat, I allow the lump of metal to fall to the ground. Ignoring the sound of the bike meeting the curb, I do what I do best. I take off and run.

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