I can barely believe my eyes, yet the truth is there, in front of me, slapping me right in the face. It's definitely Rick. I had doubts about seeing him at the police station, but this time I'm not just catching a glimpse of him, he's really right there, right before my eyes and he's not going anywhere. That tight knot appears in my throat again. ...Why the f**k is he in London?
He's standing right in front of the doors, arms crossed, jaw clenched, staring as if he can't be bothered to blink. It's been a few years since I saw him last, but he's barely changed. If anything, he seems a bit bulkier and his black hair is cut neatly, short, unlike that beach surfer mid-length style he had when we were young... He's not wearing his uniform either, just denim pants and a simple white shirt with
