He should have known better to think that she would look anything less than immaculate the following morning. He watched her as she sipped her coffee, her black dress hugging her perfect figure.
"Can I sit here?" he asked, a smile on his face as she looked up at him,
"Of course," she nodded, "I'm sorry about last night, you were right… I was drunk,"
He nudged her playfully, "Can I have that in writing?"
"What that I was drunk?"
"No… that you're sorry,"
She raised her eyebrow at him, "What do you think?"
"Worth a try," he smiled, "Do you fancy half a croissant?"
She nodded, taking it from him quickly as they sat down to listen to the first lecture.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he admitted to her that evening as they walked around the grounds of the Scottish hotel on the second evening of their conference,
"It surprised me; I'll give you that," she replied, "I mean… that's a pretty big thing not to mention Sam,"
"I know," he told her, "But telling you… god… it just made everything so final,"
"Getting married should have made it final," she answered, knowing exactly what he was talking about,
"All those emails we sent back and forth… I felt I could tell you everything, about work… my family… my day…"
"You don't have to do this," she smiled, linking her arm through his,
He nodded, "Your opinion is the one I value the most," he admitted, "and the longer I didn't tell you, the harder it got,"
She smiled, "I know that feeling,"
"I haven't seen you for two years but you look exactly the same," he admitted,
"You look older," she teased, "But then I guess that's what marriage does to you,"
He laughed, "Connie you don't change,"
She shivered as the wind whistled across the trees, "Let's get back inside, it must be time for dinner," she shouted over the wind as they jogged back to the hotel.
Seeing her after so long made him realise exactly why he'd missed her so much since she'd left. She was funny and witty and beautiful, and he knew she showed very few people who'd she'd worked with that side of her.
They sat on the sofa in the bar they had been in on the first of their three day visit to Scotland. "Last night…" he begun,
She laughed, "I was joking when I told you, you could have come to bed with me,"
He rolled his eyes, "You were mad at me…"
She nodded, "Of course I was… you're meant to be my friend, and you kept something deliberately hidden from me. That's why I was mad,"
"The only reason?"
"There is no point having this discussion Sam Strachan," she admitted, raising her eyebrow, "Because hypothetically if I turned around and told you I was madly in love with you and you should have married me… what would you do?"
He leaned closer to her, "Connie…"
She shook her head, "Like I said, you're my friend and you kept something like that from me… that is all it is,"
He rolled his eyes, "You're still as impossible as you always were,"
"I think your answer to my question should have been honest," she admitted, "You should have told me you couldn't do anything, that you wouldn't want to do anything because you're married now and you love your wife,"
"I love my wife… and how did this hypothetical question get me so wound up? How do you always manage to get me so wound up?"
She laughed, "You always let me wind you up,"
"When are you heading back to Afghanistan?"
"I'm not," she replied, "I'm moving home,"
"And why has it taken you all weekend to tell me that?"
"I told you in my last email,"
"I haven't had chance to read it,"
"That your fault not mine," she laughed,
"You're enjoying this Connie," he told her,
"I need to go to bed," she replied, finishing the rest of her wine before standing up and squeezing his hand, "I'll see you tomorrow,"