When We Were Young

By Elin Annalise

It's been eight years since Emma last saw Oscar, the love of her life. Eight years since their messy breakup. She never wanted to see him again and relive that pain, but then she finds his photo album among her boxes of college things.

Oscar never met his parents. They died the day he was born, and the only connection he has to them is through the photo album his grandmother gave him. A photo album he thought he'd never see again.

When Emma returns the photo album to him, Oscar discovers it's not just the album that's been missing from his life for the last eight years. But can Emma ever forgive him for what he did?

When We Were Young is a snack-sized read about young love and second chances.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ineja Press
• Release date: Oct 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393536345

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Emma

Damn it.

It’s snowing again.

I grip the steering wheel tighter through my driving gloves—Mum got them for me, but I’ll never admit to anyone that I actually use them. Not since Jenna laughed when she saw them on my kitchen table.

Mildly warm air blasts through the air-vents. The windshield is starting to steam up, and I change the settings for the air, try to get it hotter, even though I know it’s no use. The heater’s been faulty for weeks, and I can’t afford to fix it. Didn’t even think I’d drive this car again. I haven’t done so in a while, been trying to save on costs, but of course when I found Oscar’s album in my boxes of university stuff, the journey was inevitable, even though for twenty-four hours I’d pretended it wasn’t.

I’d told myself I’d do nothing.

But here I am.

I glance at the satnav. Two minutes until I get there.

Two minutes until I see him again.

My heart pounds, and I get that giddy feeling in my stomach, one I haven’t properly felt in years. Because I only ever get it when I see him in person. At first, it was a good feeling. Then dread mixed into the concoction.

Last night, I looked at his photos—trawled through them, going back years, just like I’ve done countless times, from under my duvet, from the end of the bar, from the overcrowded train. So many times, I’ve seen him, seen him happy. With her. Blond-haired Celine who smiles in many of his social media photos from the last two years. Whose eyes sparkle. Who makes Oscar smile in the way only I used to be able to. A way that—

"Shit." I see the patch of ice on the road just in time, ease onto the brakes, and carefully steer around it, all the while staring through the six-inch clear gap in the windshield.

Okay. I need to be more careful. Can’t get distracted.

But of course I’m distracted, because this is Oscar. My Oscar—until he wasn’t.

I glance across at the passenger seat, where his photo album sits, then back up at the road. Still barely any traffic. At just before noon on a late November day, most people are working. I was surprised when Oscar said he’d be home at this time. Thought he’d be in the office or something. Still, he’s the boss so he can probably take off any time he wants.

Or maybe this is a snow day.

I turn the wipers’ speed up. I used to love the snow.

The sky is a heavy gray blanket—a promise of more snow—slowly being obscured by heavier, faster flurries. Over breakfast this morning, I looked up the weather for Carrington, Oscar’s town—it’s not supposed to snow heavily until the evening, when a minor weather warning will be in place. But it’s snowing like this now.

We may not get much snow at Rose Haven, the seaside town I grew up in and returned to after university, but three years ago I spent a winter in Scotland, working for a farmer, and learned how to handle a vehicle in treacherous winter conditions.

I hum under my breath, flex my fingers inside the gloves. They’re starting to go numb. I didn’t put on a coat. I don’t know why. Maybe I’d assumed a miracle would happen and the heating would somehow work. Stupid. I shiver in my jumper.

Your destination is on the right, the satnav