Page 7 of Branded Hearts

The elderly woman murmurs beside me, “I think she is in shock, dear.”

I try to steady my breath as Bradley approaches, his eyes full of concern and determination. Now, ten years later, I realise that those feelings are unchanged. The intensity, the pull I felt back then, is just as strong.

He shifts his attention to her, asking, “Are you okay?”

In my peripheral vision, I see her nod enthusiastically. “Yep. I am now.”

“Amelia, are you alright?” My eyes are looking at him, but I’m not really focusing.

He grips my chin, his touch both grounding and surprisingly gentle, pulling my face up to face his, and mutters in a commanding tone, “Amelia. Look at me.”

This snaps me out of my daze.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his eyes searching mine for any sign of injury.

I swallow, trying to find my voice. “No. I-I’m fine. Just a bit shaken up.” He frowns at me, processing my words.

I mutter a quick, “thank you,” before instinctively hugging him tightly.

Bradley just stands there, his body rigid. Realising what I’ve done, I quickly release him. He clears his throat, and a flush of embarrassment passes through me. His expression softens, and he looks around the shop, scanning the surroundings briefly.

“We’ll need to take your statement, Amelia,” he says, his voice calm. “Would you prefer to do that here, or back at the station?”

“H-here. Here is fine.”

“Okay. Could you tell me what happened?”

“The man came in, and he had a knife,” I explain, my voice trembling slightly. “He demanded money from the till, and then the young man over there called the police. Bradley, he was sobrave.”

As I speak, I watch as Officer Reynolds does thesame with the young couple. Bradley nods, listening intently.

“Did you see where the man came from? Did he say anything else?”

I shake my head, my mind still reeling from the events. “No, I didn’t see where he came from. He just walked in, and then the next minute he was shouting, demanding money, and thenyougot here.”

Bradley nods again, jotting down notes on a pad. “Thank you. Our detectives will need to get a formal statement from you soon, but for now, I think it’s best if you let the paramedics check you over.”

He guides us outside to two paramedic vans. The slight breeze outside is a welcome respite from the tension within the flower shop. A young paramedic nurse approaches me.

“Hi there, I’m Nurse Emily. Can you tell me your name and what happened inside?”

I nod, grateful for her gentle approach. “I’m Amelia. A man came into the shop with a knife and demanded money from the till. He was shouting, and then the police arrived.”

Emily nods, taking notes on her tablet before giving me a comforting smile. “You’re safe now, Amelia. I’m just going to check you over to make sure you’re okay. Can you come with me?” I nod, following her to a van. Once seated, the nurse begins checking my vitals, asking me a series of questions to assess my condition.

“Do you have any pain or discomfort?” she asks, her voice gentle and reassuring.

“No,” I respond, feeling a bit dazed, but physicallyunharmed. She continues her examination, checking my pulse and blood pressure. Meanwhile, my gaze drifts to Bradley. Dressed in his police uniform, he exudes a rugged stoicism that has a way of igniting a flush of nervousness throughout my body.

As the paramedic checks me over, my mind drifts back to old memories. Bradley was, without a doubt, my best friend’s cool, older brother, who totally had my attention.

I’d developed a crush on him all those years ago. Now, he’s become this guy who commands respect and exudes this magnetic charm that’s impossible to ignore.

As I watch him, the realisation hits me: the silly crush from my teenage years hasn’t dissolved; it’s evidently still there. A fire I thought had long been extinguished is surprisingly stillburning.

I chuckle inwardly at the irony of it all.

Here I am, years later, still affected by the same boy who used to make my heart race.

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