by Serena Grey
In the morning, we all troop over to join Laurie and her parents. My mom immediately throws herself into bullying the decorators, the florist, and all the other vendors with Aunt Jacie, while Laurie and I watch them from upstairs. My dad and uncle have disappeared somewhere, the study or the den, and Dylan is watching TV downstairs, so it’s just Laurie and me.
“It feels as if you’re getting married today,” I tell her.
“Right?” She sighs. “It feels as if my mom has been waiting for this moment since I was born. I don’t even want to think about the real wedding.”
“It’ll be beautiful,” I assure her.
“I know.” She laughs. “I just wish all the preparations were over and we were like, married already.” She looks at me. “I shouldn’t be complaining though. When’s your interview?”
“Next week.” I sigh. “At least there’s that for me to look forward to.”
Laurie rises from the bed and takes my hand. “Let’s have fun today. It’s a party after all.”
She’s right. The party starts in the afternoon, spilling from the garden into the lawn, and it is fun. After the toasts and congratulations and the buffet, the DJ kicks it up and everybody moves to the lawn to dance. Laurie and Brett are in the midst of it all, making up their own dance moves and laughing hysterically.
I’ve danced with Jordan, Brett’s partner at the gym, with Dylan, and Chelsea, who arrived early and joined us upstairs in Laurie’s bedroom. An assortment of Laurie’s colleagues also come - cute lawyerly types with nice haircuts and tattoos that wouldn’t be visible if they were wearing suits. One of them, I’m not sure which one, even slipped a card into my hand and asked me to call him to hang out sometime.
I take a sip from my fruit punch and watch the rest of the party from my place on a lawn chair, studiously ignoring Laurie’s calls to come back and dance. Now that I’m tired, it’s easy for my mind to return to Landon. I’ve tried my best to enjoy myself, but it’s still hard to look at Laurie and Brett with the knowledge that it will never be Landon and me announcing our love to the world, and that it was always ridiculous to hope.
“Hey.” It’s one of the guys from Laurie’s office, Brad or Tatum? He’s new, so I’m not quite sure. He grins and takes the chair beside mine. “You’re not dancing,” he states.
He has beautiful dimples, and he’s probably nice too. For some reason, that thought makes me sad. I think it’s the realization that Landon has ruined me for every other guy, no matter how cute, or nice. “I’m a little tired,” I reply.
“Okay.” He’s still smiling. “Laurie says you work at Gilt magazines.”
“Yeah.”
“I read the men’s style mag sometimes,” he tells me. “Must be interesting to work there.”
“It is.”
The conversation flags. On the lawn, everyone is still dancing. Had he been about to ask me to dance? I don’t think I can bear another round of smiling and pretending to enjoy the music that’s only making me feel lonelier than ever.
I get up and give him an apologetic smile. “I’m gonna fetch something,” I murmur. “It was nice talking to you…”
“Jamie,” he says. He smiles again and the dimples are heartbreakingly cute. “My name’s Jamie.”
I nod. “It was nice talking to you, Jamie.”
After that, I walk away from the party, but I don’t go inside. Instead, I walk along the side of the house to the end of the garden, where there’s a small white gazebo overlooking aunt Jacie’s tulips. It’s where she goes when she wants to read in the peace of the garden. Now, even with the noise of the party, the music and laughter, it’s still somewhat peaceful.
Taking one of the seats inside, I draw up my legs, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on my knees.
Two weeks, and not even a single word.
I’d known the risk I was taking when I told Landon that I was in love with him, but still, I’d hoped that it would make him realize that he had feelings for me too. Now, it was obvious that he did not, that I’d probably always overestimated what I meant to him.
At times like this, my mind starts to run over everything he ever said to me. All the things that made me believe that what we had was special, that I wasn’t the only one who had been drawn into the wild emotional vortex that was him and me.
But I was, obviously. While I’d been falling madly in love with him, he’d remained unscathed, able to walk away without looking back. While I was barely holding on to reason, he was perfectly able to let me go, and go on, with maybe only a few regrets.
He was Landon Court, after all, and he didn’t do commitment.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. I can’t keep waiting for him. It’s clear now, more than anything, that I have to move on with my life. I have to forget him.
My heart rebels against the thought, giving in to the aching feeling that follows it. I don’t want to move on. I want to hold on to my memories and my feelings. I want to live on them for as long as I can, because as strong as I’ve tried to be, the thought of a life without Landon makes me want to hide somewhere and cry my heart out.
A gentle breeze rustles the trees surrounding the garden, and I hug myself tighter, letting a single tear drip slowly down my cheek. One day, I’ll stop the self-immolation and move on with my life, but for now, I just want to think about Landon, to remember what it was like to be with him.
“Rachel.”
I stiffen at the sound of the familiar voice, sure that I’ve only imagined it, and yet, desperately hopeful that it’s real. I don’t want to move, I don’t want to turn around to look, for fear that he won’t be there, that my desire for him has conjured him as a tortuous trick on my mind, and I’ll see only the flowers in the garden, not Landon.
In the long silence that follows, I only hear the distant sounds of the party, the rustling of the leaves, and the pounding rhythm of my heart.
“Your mother told me you’d be back here,” I hear the uncertainty in his voice. I loosen my arms from around my knees and drop my feet to the ground. I turn around slowly, tightening my fingers around the edge of the bench, because even after hearing his voice, I’m still not sure.
At the sight of him, my eyes water, but I let them rove over him, hungrily taking in the tousled, burnished hair, and his beautiful face, now clouded by a tentative frown. His body looks perfect in a dark jacket over a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, and the tender expression in his eyes washes over me like a soft wave.
“Landon?” My voice is shaky, my mind still unable to wrap itself around the thought that he’s actually here.
“Hi.” He tries on a small smile, but it quickly fades from his lips, and I hear him breathe heavily. My own chest tightens. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”
I close my eyes, and when I open them again, he’s still there. “No,” I say softly. “No, I don’t.”
LANDON comes to join me on the bench. His shirt brushes my arm as he sits, making a slight tremor course through me. I look at his face, trying to fight the wild hope that’s making it difficult for me to breathe.
He’s watching me, silent, his eyes searching mine. In the silence, I wonder what he came here to say. My fingers tighten around the edge of the bench and I look away from his face. For all I know, he could be here to dash my last remnants of hope.
I hear him breathe, and I turn toward him just in time to see him reach into his jacket pocket and pull something out. He hands it to me. It’s a single rose. Red and heartbreakingly lovely.
I take it from him, my hand shaking as I study the beautiful petals. “I didn’t know you were coming,” I tell him, still looking at the rose.
“I wasn’t… I tried to call you. You weren’t picking up. Laurie told me about the party, and that you were here.”
“My phone’s in the house,” I explain.
He nods. “I guessed.”
I swallow, still looking down, almost unable to bear the fact that he’s seated right next to me. I can feel
his nearness in every inch of my skin. It feels like a burning ache in my blood, like torture in my heart.
Closing my eyes, I place the rose on the bench beside me. Two weeks of silence. Two weeks without a single word. I don’t even know what to say to him.
“Why did you come?”
Landon doesn’t reply. I look at him again, and there’s something about the way his eyes reach into mine. It makes me want to tell him not to bother with explanations, with speaking. It makes me want to close the space between us and lay my head against his chest. It annoys me, how ready I am to forgive his silence, how ready I am to fall back into his arms, after all the pain of the past two weeks.
“Rachel.” He whispers my name, and my eyes start to fill. He takes my hand, and the touch singes my skin. I pull my fingers out of his grip and get up from the bench, folding my arms around my body in a useless gesture of defense. “Don’t touch me,” I croak.
“Rachel…”
“Two weeks, Landon,” I whisper. “I waited for you…”
“Rachel,” he says again. “Come back.”
I shake my head. “I told you I was in love with you and you let me stew in your silence for two fucking weeks. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to open up to you about my feelings?”
He rises to his feet, suddenly dwarfing me. “You left,” he bites out, keeping his voice low.
I close my eyes, feeling the sting of tears. “Yes, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I walked away when I said I wouldn’t. It hurt me to leave you Landon, but I had to. It was clear that even though I told you how I felt, you were still holding back.”
“So, as usual, you decided to walk away.”
The accusation in his voice makes me frustrated and sad. “I couldn’t wait around for you to decide that you didn’t want me!”
He sighs, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Please come back. Sit. Let’s talk.”
I look at his face. Not sure that I want to hear what he’s going to say. The words I want to hear, he could have said already if he wanted to, and if he’s only going to break my heart all over again, then I’d rather not listen.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I don’t think…”
“Rachel, for God’s sake! For once, will you stop fighting me?”
From the expression on his face, I realize that he’s only a second from lifting me bodily and dumping me on the bench, so I take the few steps back and lower myself to the seat. Landon sits beside me, his body angled toward mine.
“Look at me,” he says firmly.
I lift my eyes to his, and a sigh almost escapes my lips. Why does he have to look so good? Even my nose is filled with the familiar scent of his skin, and my head with the memory of his touch. My eyes fill again, and he curses, reaching inside his pocket for a handkerchief, which he dabs at my tears.
After he puts the mascara stained cloth back in his pocket, he reaches for my hands, and this time I don’t pull back. “These past two weeks. I’ve been… I don’t know what I’ve been doing.” He stops. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know why you walked away before. I didn’t know how you felt. I didn’t know you thought you needed to get away from me. I didn’t know your feelings made you believe you needed to get over me, or that my behavior, pursuing you relentlessly, ignoring your requests for me to leave you alone, took away the space you needed to do that.” He looks at me. “I understand now. I get it. I get why you walked away that first time.”
I look from his face to my hands, nestled in his. I don’t know for sure if it’s my hands trembling, or his. I stay silent, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve been trying,” he expels a harsh breath. “I’ve been trying to stop thinking about you. When I woke up and you had gone, I… I wanted to come after you, Rachel, you have no idea what it took to stay back and let you have the space I didn’t give you in the past.”
I told you I was in love with you, I say silently. I didn’t want space. I wanted you to tell me that you felt the same way. Why would he even assume that I wanted space? And if that’s what he thought, why was he here?
I hear the sound of his breath, and I feel his fingers tighten around mine, then loosen. He strokes my fingers gently, and when I raise my eyes to his face, he looks up too, into my eyes.
“There were so many times I wanted to come to you,” he says gently. “There were so many things I could have said, but Rachel, the last thing I wanted was for you to think I was telling you what you wanted to hear just so I get you to stay.”
I close my eyes. I wasn’t unaware how easy it was for some men to lie about how they felt, just to get what they wanted, but Landon wasn’t that sort of man. He would never make me believe that he felt more than he did, just to keep me hanging on to him. “I didn’t tell you I was in love with you because I wanted you to say some meaningless words back to me.” My voice is tight, almost breaking. “I told you because it was the truth. If you don’t feel the same way, I totally understand, I really do.”
“Will you let me finish?” He’s frowning now. “I’ve been trying to make sense of a lot of things. My feelings, yours… I was trying to make the best decision for both of us, trying to determine the right course of action… I didn’t want to pester you as I had in the past. So I decided to wait a while, but then you told Joe you didn’t want him picking you up anymore, I thought… I didn’t know what to think.”
“I didn’t want to be reminded…”
“Of me?” His eyes search mine.
“Yes.”
He nods slowly.
“Joe’s presence reminded me every day that even though you knew how I felt, you chose to stay away.”
He is silent. “I’m here now.”
I breathe, filling lungs that are suddenly aching and tight. “Why?” My voice is only slightly higher than a whisper.
“Because I couldn’t wait anymore. I’m crazy about you, Rachel. I’ve always known that much. I’ve always known that I wanted to be with you, that I’d protect you, that I’d give you anything you wanted, that I could never let you go.”
I blink back tears and start to pull my hands from his, but he holds on to them.
“I knew all that, but I’d never allowed myself to think about love, being in love. I’ve never wanted it. I never thought it was for me. I grew up in the devastation that kind of emotion can cause, and so I…” He stops and leans toward me, bringing his face closer to mine, “Then you told me how you felt, and it took me by surprise. I’d wasted so much time being jealous of your ex, being insecure about why you wanted to be with me, why you always walked away. I never thought it was possible that you had those kind of feelings for me.”
God! I’d loved him for so long, and he’d had no idea. I sigh. “And after I told you?”
He releases a low chuckle. “I was shocked. But more than that, even though I was so fucking scared of doing something wrong and hurting you. The fact that you felt that way about me... I can’t begin to explain how it made me feel. Happy, humbled, elated, and afraid. That night, I could have responded and told you that I felt the same way, and now I know that it wouldn’t have been a lie. At the time, I was afraid that you would leave, and I didn’t want to say those words just as a way to make you stay.
I don’t want to hope. My hands are trembling in his, and I wish they would stop, I wish my whole body would stop shaking. “What about now?”
He sighs. “I’ve been trying to take control of my feelings, trying to define them, to escape the… the vulnerability that comes with knowing that I’d give up everything else to make you stay, but the truth is, deep down, I’ve always known in a part of me, that there would never be anyone else for me.”
I close my eyes, letting the words soak into my body. When I look at him again, his eyes are on my face. “I think I’ve been a fool for a very long time,” he says, lifting one hand to smooth a stray strand of hair and tuck it behind my ear. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. A long while.”
Something starts to unfurl inside me, like a flower, like a nimbus of happiness. I want to melt into him, to throw myself into his arms… My chest swells. “Tell me,” I breathe softly.
His throat works. “I don’t want to be without you,” he says. “I want us to make this work. I love you, Rachel. I’m helplessly, hopelessly in love with you.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, quickly followed by another, and then a chuckle escapes my lips, because I’m so damn happy I feel like I’m going to burst. I realize that I’m grinning stupidly at him through my tears, and he’s smiling back.
“I love you,” he says again, and this time he puts an arm around me and draws me to him. “I love you,” he whispers in my ear, before kissing my cheek.
I turn my face and touch my lips to his, breathing in the scent of his skin and sighing at the feel of his firm lips on mine. “I hate you for leaving me adrift these past two weeks,” I tell him.
“But?” his voice is teasing, but his eyes are hopeful, digging into mine.
“But I love you, Landon.”
He breathes, and then we’re just sitting in each other’s arms, kissing, and watching the stars in the night sky, and it feels wonderful, beautiful to just sit there, so close, and so happy.
“I’m glad you came,” I whisper.
His arm tightens around me. “I couldn’t have stayed away.” He draws back to look in my face. “I’ve seen you, every day I’ve been in town, and if you knew how hard it was for me not to reach out to you, then you’d know I’m never going a day without you by my side.”
“You’ve been stalking me.”
His smile is unrepentant. “It’s not such a large city,” he says cryptically. “And I wouldn’t call it stalking… just taking longer detours to work so I can see you at least once, every day.”
“Stalking,” I insist, smiling as I remember all those times when I’d thought I saw a familiar car, or felt that quiver that made me believe he was near. He probably was. He’d never actually left me.
I close my eyes and lean into his body. There’s still a lot we have to work on. We still have to learn to trust each other, to build a real relationship out of the way we feel, but I know we can make it work.
