Chapter 30

“Tradition is a guide and not a jailer.”

—W. Somerset Maughan.

“Tradition is the illusion of permanence.”

—Woody Allen.

“Tradition is not the worship of ashes but the preservation of fire.”

—Gustar Mahler.

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Anna’s POV

His tousled dark brown hair swayed in the direction of the cool breeze as he concentrated on the road.

His face is strong and defined, his features molded from granite. His dark brown eyebrows sloped downwards in a serious expression. His usually playful smirk has drowned into a hard line across his face. His strong hands though slightly rough from sports, held the steering wheel tightly as he maneuvered his way through the busy road of New York. As he navigated towards my house.

His muscles flexed whenever he turned the steering wheel and a little tattoo peeked from beneath his arms that were previously covered in the denim jacket draped over my shoulders. It is a compass tattoo that has the labelling of n