by K. A. Linde
I let the woman escort me to our table in the back of the room and ordered a glass of water for each of us. I assured the waiter that Landon was on his way and would be here any minute.
After about ten minutes of radio silence, I craned my neck back up to the front to see if maybe he was waiting and didn’t realize that I’d gotten a table already. But he wasn’t up there, and my phone hadn’t rung.
Landon was late.
Seriously, this was annoying. Why insist on seeing me if he was going to show up late? He was probably just working off that hangover or something, but it was crappy not to at least text.
I tried calling one more time, but he didn’t answer. Huh. I chewed on my lip. This wasn’t like Landon. Maybe something had happened. What if he’d been in a car accident or something? What if something had happened to him or Austin, and he couldn’t get to his phone? A slew of other worst-possible scenarios ran through my head.
With fear driving me, I sent Landon a text.
Hey, is everything okay? I’m worried about you. Call me back.
I bit my nail down to the quick as I waited for what felt like an endless amount of time. I shooed away the waiter more than once as he came by to check on me. Ten minutes turned into twenty, and twenty was quickly approaching thirty. I hadn’t eaten anything, and I had gone from worried to pissed.
Landon Wright had made me come here, only to abandon me.
He’d stood me up.
My heart beat rapidly in my chest, and I could hear whooshing in my ears, as if I were going through a tunnel. A flush of embarrassment coated my cheeks, and anger suffused my system.
I didn’t know what was going on in his life. I didn’t know what was really happening with Miranda. But this wasn’t acceptable.
I clenched my hands into fists and stood from the table.
Landon had made an idiot out of me.
I knew I’d been right the first time. I’d left Austin’s house last night, visibly upset about what I’d come to realize. Landon and Miranda had shit to work out, and I’d happened to be the closest person for him to channel his anger into. That was all it had been.
When he’d called this morning, I’d thought that maybe I’d read the situation wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have left last night. Maybe we could see where things could go between us. Maybe he did want me.
Now, I had to keep my hands from shaking. I was so angry with him. He’d proven me right, and I didn’t like it at all.
I stormed out of the restaurant and back to my car. My breathing was coming out in furious hyperventilating-induced sputters. In all my life and all the horrible dates I’d been on, I’d never once been stood up and made to feel this stupid.
I turned over the ignition as my phone started vibrating next to me. I almost ignored it. If it were Landon, he was too little, too late. I was an afterthought. I wasn’t important enough to even be told that he couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to talk to someone who could treat me that way.
But my hand reached out, and I looked at the screen anyway.
A sigh escaped me when I saw that it was Emery, not Landon. Somehow, I had still gotten my hopes up that it was him. But I had to put that all away now. I couldn’t let Emery know why I was so upset. Landon was off-limits. He was not a conversation I wanted to have with my best friend.
I answered the call, “Hello?”
“Hey! I just got home. Where are you?” Emery asked.
“I went to get some food but lost my appetite and didn’t eat anything.”
“That’s lame. You should probably eat something. Want me to make you something at home?”
“No, that’s okay.” I really was not hungry any longer. My anger had burned away my need for food. “What’s up?”
“I have so much to dish to you. I wanted to tell you as soon as I got home. Are you going to be out long?”
“I’m on my way home actually,” I said as I turned over the ignition and pulled out of my parking spot. “Be there in, like, ten minutes.”
“Okay. Well, I can’t wait that long,” Emery said. “Miranda showed up at Jensen’s house this morning.”
I gasped as everything seemed to crystallize, “Miranda? Like…Landon’s wife?” My voice was brittle, as if I were a cracked eggshell, ready to shatter.
“Yeah. Like the crazy bitch lady who screams at me every time she sees me even though she knows that Jensen and I are together and I have no interest in Landon. She’s a total monster. Jensen detests her, to put it mildly.”
“What was she doing there?” I managed to get out as I drove blindly across town. I couldn’t recall any of the drive. Stoplights and traffic signals and lane changes had all happened, but I was on autopilot.
“She was looking for Landon, but as you know, this trip, he’s staying with Austin, not Jensen.”
“Right.” Because I’d gotten his drunk ass home last night. “But…what did she want?”
“Not sure. What I gathered from her clipped conversation with Jensen was that they’d had an argument, Landon had threatened to leave her, and she was here to make things right. Whatever the hell that means.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Miranda was here to make things right. And, now, Landon wasn’t returning my calls or answering any of my messages.
My throat felt dry and cracked. My hands were stiff on the steering wheel. My heart constricted painfully.
Of course.
Of course this was what it was.
It was as if those messages I had read last night on Landon’s phone and the conclusion I had drawn from them came true. Landon wasn’t leaving Miranda. Landon was never going to leave Miranda. Even Emery had said that Landon had only threatened it. He wasn’t really going to follow through.
I didn’t know what this whole brunch thing had been to him. Had he been trying to break my heart once and for all? Had he decided it would be easier for me to know how worthless I truly was to him if he led me on and then blew me off?
I was feeling about two inches tall at the moment, and blood was roaring in my ears.
“Heidi? Hey, are you still there?” Emery asked.
I hadn’t even realized that she was still talking to me on the phone. “Yeah, sorry. I’m driving.”
“That’s cool. You went quiet on me there.”
“I don’t think I’m feeling that great,” I admitted.
“Oh no,” Emery said. “We’ll have to do some Netflix and chill.”
I laughed softly. “You do know that means we’re going to have sex, right?”
“And?”
“Count me in,” I said the words, but they held none of my normal lighthearted enthusiasm. I couldn’t muster up the humor for the conversation.
“Heidi,” Emery said again.
“Yeah?”
“Is this about Landon?”
“Is what about Landon?” I asked, panicked that she had correctly interpreted my silence.
“You know…about him and Miranda.”
“No. I don’t know.”
Emery sighed. “I know you like him, Heidi. You don’t hide things from me as well as you think you do.”
“I don’t like him,” I insisted.
Right now, I definitely hated him.
“Okay,” Emery said disbelievingly. “Well, I don’t know what’s happening with Miranda, but if Jensen has anything to say about it, they’ll be divorced sooner rather than later.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
“Well, come home, and we can eat ice cream and binge-watch Buffy, okay?”
“Sounds good. See you soon.” I ended the call and drove straight home.
When I pulled into the parking lot of the apartment I shared with Emery, a text popped up from Landon.
So sorry about brunch! Something came up, and I couldn’t get away. Can we talk later? I’ll explain everything.
I shook my head in exasperation. He hadn’t even mentioned Miranda in the text. Something had come up. Yeah, right. What h
e’d meant was, his wife had shown up, and if I’d stayed the night, she would have busted us. Even worse, if he had been at brunch with me, she could have shown up there while we were together. What the hell would he have done then?
Landon wasn’t being honest with me, and worse, it didn’t seem like he was being honest with himself. He wasn’t leaving Miranda. Talking to me was only going to cause him trouble.
I had no interest in a battered love triangle.
I had no interest in fighting for someone who was unattainable.
I had no interest in losing my heart to someone who could only break it.
I tapped out a message to Landon, letting my anger guide me. I knew I was doing the right thing. Reconsidering had been the wrong move. Waiting around for him when he was late had been a desperate one. Agreeing to talk to him again after all of that would be utterly stupid.
I know Miranda is here. This is over. Don’t ever talk to me again.
Seven
Landon
Heidi’s text was explicitly clear.
Don’t ever talk to me again.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I had fucked up. I could feel her anger in that one message. She was beyond pissed. I didn’t know how she had found out about Miranda, but that was not good. Worse was, I hadn’t told her myself that Miranda was here. Now, she probably thought that I was hiding it from her. Who even knew what was going on in her head? It couldn’t be good. And, by the sound of it, our friendship wasn’t even salvageable.
With Miranda here in Lubbock, I had no chance to make things right with Heidi. Even to apologize and let Heidi be. It might be for the better to keep her out of my baggage at the moment, but I still felt bad. Standing her up after how I’d acted last night had been unnecessarily cruel. I would never have done that if I’d had a way to get away.
Instead, I’d stayed at Austin’s and listened to Miranda talk for hours. Maybe she was serious about making things right. I wasn’t sure. I’d need some more time to process. Between my injury, golf, and Miranda, I needed more than a day to figure out what to do with my life.
After a painful afternoon, I decided that it would be better for the two of us to go home. With the reunion over and Heidi refusing to speak to me, there was really nothing for me in Lubbock. I had another doctor’s appointment on Monday. I had serious pain in my lower back, and I knew it was fucked up. I was really not looking forward to him talking to me about it some more.
But that wasn’t an option with my career on the line.
I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs. Everything felt as if I were walking on a tightrope without a net. One wrong move, and I’d lose it all.
Miranda must have noticed my somber mood because she dried her tears and became completely compliant. I might be pissed at her for the argument we’d gotten into before I had left. After overhearing her conversation with Janice and confronting her about it, she’d tried waterworks. When she realized that wouldn’t work, she’d screamed that it was true.
Fine, she didn’t want kids. Was I happy?
Happy?
How could I possibly be happy?
I’d stayed with her for the kids. For the possibility to fix our marriage with children.
Now, she was saying that she hadn’t meant all of that. She’d sounded pretty fucking serious when she’d said it. Both to me and Janice. And I didn’t know if I could believe her even though I kept doling out second chances to her like candy. We’d see how this one went, because I fucking meant it. I’d stick to my word. This was the last one she got. I couldn’t keep living my life like this.
Sunday morning, I dialed Jensen’s number as I was packing up my meager belongings. I knew he would answer. My eldest brother was a bit of an insomniac vampire.
“Hey,” Jensen said groggily into the phone.
I startled at him sounding tired. That was new. “Hey, did I wake you up?”
“No, no. Go back to sleep,” Jensen whispered. I assumed he was talking to Emery. Then, he was back to me. “Sorry about that. I’m up. What’s going on?”
“I wanted to let you know that Miranda and I are taking an early flight out this morning.”
Jensen blew out a harsh breath. “You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah. I think I need to get back to my life and figure out what’s going on.”
“With Miranda?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “And golf.”
“Your injury isn’t healing,” Jensen guessed. “I noticed you were careful with it at the reunion.”
I winced. I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing that. I’d had some pain ever since I injured my back four years ago, and I’d had to pull out of the middle of my last tournament. Then a couple weeks ago I’d completely thrown it out. It was no surprise that I was hurting the way I was.
“Yeah. We’ll see what happens.”
“And you’re going to miss church,” he accused.
This was the hardest part about telling Jensen that I was leaving early. Church was a Lubbock necessity and a Wright tradition. Our mother had gone to church every Sunday, and we continued to do so in her memory every single Sunday. Leaving ahead of church was nothing short of blasphemy, and I was doing it. Again.
“Yeah, sorry. You know I want to be there, but—”
“Yeah, yeah. Just figure out your life. Call me if you need me…or a lawyer.”
I sighed. “Thanks, man. I’ll keep that in mind.”
After I hung up, I said my good-byes to Austin and then Miranda and I headed to the airport. Our flight had a layover in Dallas, and Miranda insisted we upgrade to first class for the long leg of the flight. I didn’t want to argue, so I just did it. She ordered a mimosa as soon as we were in the air again. I didn’t need a drink; I needed a new body.
The landing was hell on my back, and in that moment, I was glad for the first-class seat. If the pain could flame up that quickly, I had a feeling that surgery was going to come sooner rather than later. A problem for another day.
After we picked up Miranda’s bag from baggage claim, we walked out to my Mercedes SUV parked in the deck and drove into Clearwater. We lived in a gated country club on the water with a full golf course that, up until this recent injury, I had played at nearly every day. Big enough to house a college spring break, our house was a sprawling two-story overlooking the Gulf of Mexico with a pool and hot tub out back.
Miranda had been silent and fidgeting the entire drive from the airport. She hopped out of the car as soon as I pulled into the garage. She seemed nervous, and I didn’t know why. But the vibe from her was coming off strong.
I didn’t really want to deal right now. I wanted to get our luggage inside and pass out for a few hours. I had not gotten enough sleep this weekend.
With a groan, I pulled Miranda’s enormous suitcase out of the trunk. Why she’d had to bring a full-sized suitcase for a last-minute weekend trip, I would never understand. My back certainly didn’t approve. Then, I lugged it along with my own bag inside.
And I stopped dead in my tracks. “What the fuck?”
The house was a wreck.
I’d left it in pristine condition, and I came home to find it…vandalized. The furniture had been moved, and pillows were scattered across the room. Pictures had been ripped off the walls. All the frames of me and Miranda had been overturned, or the glass had shattered onto the hardwood floor. Some decorative display with green glass pebbles had been strewn across the room.
Miranda whirled around with her brows scrunched together and her mouth open. “I can explain.”
“You can…explain?” I asked in confusion. “We’ve been robbed.”
It was the only explanation that seemed to fit. Someone must have broken in and trashed the place, looking for money or valuables.
“We haven’t,” she said softly.
“How the hell do you know that?”
I dropped the luggage and slammed the garage door behind me. My fury
reignited, like pouring gasoline on a flame. I’d been gone for three days, and this had fucking happened!
“Because I did it,” she whispered.
“You did what?”
“I was upset, and I got carried away,” she said so evenly that it was as if she were delivering news about where we were going for lunch. It was nothing of importance. Just something that had happened. Something she hadn’t even blinked at when she left the house like this to come get me from Lubbock.
“You trashed our house,” I said slowly through gritted teeth.
“I said I was upset.” She lifted one petite shoulder, as if to say, Oops.
My gaze shifted around the room once more. This was what had happened when she was upset. She had turned into a Tasmanian devil and leveled the living room. What in the hell was wrong with someone who could do something like that?
Finally, my eyes landed back on her.
She seemed perfectly content. We’d talked. I was home. Her world was in the right.
But I was seeing a different person.
I was seeing the person my family had been warning me about for years. The one I had known existed and been willing to walk away from a year ago. The woman that I’d given everything…and then she spat in my face.
I’d been played.
As I stared around at the destruction, it was so fucking obvious. Miranda hadn’t been sad or upset after I’d left. She’d been pissed. Then she’d used that anger to come up with a plan to get me back. No matter how much she had to lie and act. And it had fucking worked.
But the evidence of her scheming was before me.
“Don’t worry,” Miranda continued. “I’ll have someone come to clean it up. It’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” I whispered.
“Yep.” She grinned at me. She thought this was all better now. Her plan had worked. She got another chance, and now she could go back to how things were. “I’m going to go up and change. I scheduled a massage and facial for later today. After this horrible weekend, I need to detox.”
Then, she traipsed upstairs, as if the entire world was at her feet once more.
But, really, it was crumbling all around me.
