by Serena Grey
I am reeling. I draw in a shaky breath, fighting a new flood of tears. “After Jack, I should have learned to be more in control of my feelings. I don’t want to be that girl who repeats the same mistakes with men.” I’d thought I was in love with Jack Weyland, my ex. I still remember the hurt I felt when two years ago, Jack responded to my confession that I loved him with outright dismissal, but that hurt is nothing compared to the devastation I’m feeling now.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Laurie sighs. “You fell for Landon, and there was an emotional connection. It’s only natural that your feelings grew.” She squeezes my hand. “What happened exactly? Do you want to talk about it now?”
As soon as a woman starts to demand more than I can give, I walk away.
I close my eyes. She warned me, what seems now like a long time ago, that I wouldn’t be able to bear being in love and not knowing for sure that Landon felt the same. I swallow through the tightness in my throat. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Laurie. I tried… but I just couldn’t bear not knowing - or rather, knowing that he would never allow himself to feel anything for me.”
Laurie turns to her side, facing me. “Did you tell him that you’re in love with him?”
I shake my head. I’ve imagined telling Landon. Countless times, I’ve imagined confessing my feelings to him. But in my head, I always see his eyes cloud with pity and regret, and I hear his lips form the words to convey how sorry he is, and how he doesn’t feel the same.
“What would be the point?” I close my eyes. “He’d have walked away, just as he has from every other woman who ever wanted him to commit.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” she points out.
“Actually, I do.” I wish I didn’t. I wish I could have stayed blissfully unaware that there was no point in loving Landon. I wish I didn’t know, without a doubt, that our affair could only end one way, with Landon telling me that he’s done with me.
“So… you just left without giving him a reason?”
“No, I...”
You can’t give me what I want.
I exhale softly. “I told him I wanted more than he was willing to give.”
There’s a long pause from Laurie. “But he doesn’t know what you want exactly.” She sounds confused. “And you’ve never bothered to ask him what he’s ‘willing’ to give.”
I don’t answer.
“Rachel,” she murmurs. “Do you ever think that maybe the fear of rejection is costing you more than anything you might lose if you’re frank with him about your feelings?”
As much as I’d like to cling to the fantasy that telling Landon that I love him would make any difference, I can’t allow myself to be so foolish. I wipe my eyes with the back of one hand. “It’s not the fear of rejection,” I tell Laurie. “It’s the reality of the man. I’d be a fool to continue to hope for a happy ending that’s never going to happen.”
“So that’s it?” She sounds almost as sad as I am. “It’s over?”
It’s over. The finality of those words rip through my body, and I fight back the surge of panic. It’s over. It’s over.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Laurie is silent. She squeezes my hand lightly. “I’m so sorry,” she says gently. “But, I still think you should have told him how you feel. It’s only fair that you let him know what you want from him.”
I pull my hand from hers. “Maybe what I want is a man who would be willing to fight for me. Maybe I want a man who wouldn’t walk away as soon as I indicate that I want something more from him, or accuse me of…” I trail off, my mind going back to Landon’s reaction to my phone conversation with Jack.
Laurie rises from the bed and leans on her elbow.
“Accuse you of what?” she asks, clearly prepared to hate Landon on my behalf if he’d dared to say anything unfair.
I sigh. I’d purposely kept silent about the part Jack played in my argument with Landon. Laurie’s reaction to anything that involves Jack is never positive. Not that I blame her. Right now I’m not feeling very good-natured towards Jack, even though nothing that happened tonight was his fault, really.
“Jack called me while we were on our way back,” I admit, “He asked me to get a drink with him tomorrow, and I agreed. Landon didn’t like it.”
Laurie doesn’t reply. Her dislike for Jack is intense, and she never pretended to support my friendship with him after he dumped me.
“I’m trying to understand,” she says slowly, “but I can’t. Why on earth would you do that?”
I close my eyes. I’ve been torturing myself with the same question. “I don’t know... Maybe I wanted a reaction. Maybe I wanted him to see that my life isn’t all about hanging on to him, that I could walk away too, if I wanted.”
“With Jack?” Laurie makes a frustrated sound. “Clearly, you didn’t get the reaction you wanted.”
If you’d rather be with your ex, you don’t have to conjure vague reasons why we shouldn’t be together, just let me know and I won’t stop you.
My eyes are aching with unshed tears, and right now, I just want to close them and try to forget everything. “Does it matter?” I sigh. “It’s over anyway.”
Laurie gets up from the bed and stands at the side, looking down at me with her hands on her hips. The light from the open door illumines her face, and I can see the frown of disappointment on her brow.
“I don’t understand you, Rach.” She walks to the door, then comes back to the side of the bed. “If you want Landon to commit to a real relationship, why not just tell him?” She throws up her hands. “I don’t know. Maybe deep inside, Jack is who you really want to be with.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Laurie.”
“Am I being ridiculous?” She snorts. “You let Jack keep you on a string for two years. Two years of your fucking life. Now you’re letting him come between you and Landon, who, from what I’ve seen, cares more about you than Jack ever did.”
I don’t have the energy to argue. “Laurie, this is not about Jack.”
“From where I’m standing…” She makes a gesture of exasperation. “I don’t know what kind of hold he has on you!” she exclaims. “Maybe you should call him now and tell him that you’re available again, that you’re still in love with him, and that you’re ready to take whatever crumbs he throws your way. It’s better than pretending that you’re ready to move on with someone else.” She shakes her head. “I’m going to bed. Enjoy your date tomorrow.”
I watch her stalk out of my room. She’s so wrong about Jack, because he’s the least important thing to me right now. I close my eyes, and immediately, I see Landon’s face in my mind, and his voice, saying those words that make me want to weep.
Goodbye, Rachel.
I find a pillow to bury my face, and curl up into a ball. You made the right decision, I tell myself. One day, you’ll get over him.
There’s no consolation in that, and I’m still crying when I finally fall asleep.
MY sleep is laced with dreams of Landon, and more than once, I wake up in tears, only to continue tormenting myself with the memories. I can’t silence the voice in my head telling me that I’ve made a terrible mistake. I finally wake up tired, miserable and almost late for work.
I shower hurriedly¸ tempted to remain beneath the flow of water and give it a chance to wash all my pain and memories away, but even if that would work, there’s no time. I dress quickly in a white cotton blouse and a beige patterned skirt, then brush my hair, despairing when my mind goes again to Landon, telling me how much he loved the color. “Sometimes it’s red,” he’d said. “Sometimes gold, and sometimes it’s both.” I breathe shakily, unable to suppress the memory of his fingers in my hair.
Frustrated, I drop the hairbrush and clip the strands away from my face. I forego any attempt at makeup, even though my eyelids show evidence of all the crying I did last night. I wince at my reflection but decide that there’s nothing I can do.
Laurie has already left for work,
which is fine with me, because I’m not eager to talk to her after her reaction last night. I hurry out of the empty apartment, hoping, as I go downstairs, that I’ll find a cab before too long.
Outside, there’s the sparse morning crowd from my street. A few people on the tree-shaded sidewalk hurrying to work, others pushing little kids in strollers, and a few cars parked on the street. I clear the steps from the building entrance, and then the small paved area between the sidewalk and the building before I notice the familiar black sedan parked on the curb.
My steps falter. Something builds in my stomach, a mixture of dread and anticipation that seizes my body and makes me unable to keep moving. I watch, barely breathing, as the rear door opens and Landon steps out of the car.
A soft breath escapes from my lips, and my eyes close, almost reflexively, a protective measure to prevent me from going to pieces just from looking at him. Yearning courses through my body like a tidal wave, drowning my heart and weakening my knees. I’m suddenly shaking, my whole body drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
What is he doing here?
I take a deep breath, and when I open my eyes again, he’s still there. His eyes are burning with that familiar cobalt intensity, provoking an answering flame deep in my belly. I blink back a sudden wave of tears. The last thing I need is to be so close to his devastating beauty. Already, my eyes are greedily devouring him. The burnished gold of his hair is gleaming in the early morning sun, the waves framing and emphasizing the raw perfection of his face, and he’s dressed to conquer the world in an exquisite deep blue suit, one that does nothing to hide the powerful body beneath.
In the few seconds I spend looking at him, I get the feeling that if I walk into his arms, last night wouldn’t matter anymore, only how much I want him, and how much he wants me. For a moment, I’m tempted to do just that. To forget all my doubts and just be with him.
But for how long?
It takes an effort to tear my eyes away from his perfection, to break the spell he has me under. He takes a step towards me. “Hello.” His voice is low, and washes over me like a familiar, much-desired caress.
Suddenly the back of my throat feels raw. I swallow hard. I’m not going to start crying again. I chose to walk away, I remind myself. It was my choice.
There is some oncoming foot traffic on the sidewalk, so I have to step out of the way, I move towards the curb, closer to where Landon is standing. “What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice thick and rough.
He looks closely at my eyes, and I wonder how obvious it is that I spent the night in tears. A small frown touches his brow, and I can tell that he hasn’t missed a thing. He starts to come closer to me, and the slight movement instantly raises my heart rate. I flinch, and he stops himself, instead thrusting his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels.
His voice is low and quiet. “I wanted to talk.”
I shake my head. My commitment to staying away from him is so shaky that I don’t trust myself to spend enough time with him to ‘talk.’ “I’m late for work,” I tell him, hoping that would be sufficient for him to leave me alone.
He takes a step towards me, closing the small distance between us. I pull in a breath, and my senses are assaulted by all the familiar scents. The faint whiff of his cologne, the delicious hint of soap and shampoo… I breathe, concentrating on the small frown he still has on his face. “I’ll take you to your office,” he suggests. “We can talk in the car.”
I contemplate sharing that small space with him, and I shake my head again. “No. Thanks.”
His quick intake of breath is followed by a frustrated hand running through his hair. “Rachel,” he says, his voice a study in patience, “Why are you making this so hard?”
It became hard the moment I fell in love with you, I say silently. Behind me on the sidewalk, people walk past us, and it makes me think how awkward we must look, just standing on the street.
“Fine,” I concede, walking past him to the car. I slide to the far side and adjust my skirt while I wait for him to join me. Landon’s preferred chauffeur, Joe, is behind the wheel, his crew cut visible from the back.
“Good morning, Joe,” I greet, my voice sounding churlish even to me.
“Good morning, Miss Foster,” Joe replies cheerfully.
The door closes with a barely audible click as Landon joins me at the back, and before the car starts to move, Joe plugs in a pair of earbuds. I fix my gaze outside the window, determined to resist the urge to feast my eyes on Landon’s perfection, but every nerve in my body is aware of him, right beside me, so close, so gorgeous, so… everything I want.
You’re in love with him, I tell myself, trying to be sensible. He doesn’t feel the same way, and there’s absolutely no chance he ever will. He can’t give you what you want, and you know, he’ll only hurt you in the long run.
What could ever hurt more than leaving him hurts now? Temptation whispers the words in my head, and I do my best to ignore them. I’m doing the right thing for me, I assure myself. Why postpone the pain that will surely come? Why keep holding on to a man who’ll only want me for a short while?
The car joins the traffic heading Midtown, and I’m so acutely aware of Landon, of the waves of sensual energy coming from his body, and of the desire growing low in my belly. I’m almost afraid to move. The silence stretches, along with my nerves.
“You’re still going out with Weyland tonight?”
The question makes me turn to look at him. He’s facing straight ahead, his fingers splayed on his lap. His body looks as stiff as mine feels. I close my fists, fighting the ache in my fingers from my desire to touch him, to feel the skin of his face, to smooth the silk of his hair… to allow my heart to win over my head.
Instead, I respond to his question. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
He doesn’t reply.
I turn back to the window. The truth is, I’m in no mood to see Jack, especially considering the state of my emotions at the moment. Jack had warned me about falling in love with Landon. It had been ridiculous and presumptuous, coming from him, but still, if he caught any inkling that things were not perfect, he would take it as proof that he’d been right.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I already told him I would.”
There is another long silence, and I wonder what he’s thinking. I steal a glance at him and catch him looking at me.
“What did Weyland say to you at the Swanson Court, the day we met?”
The question takes me by surprise, and I shake my head, confused. “I don’t think that has anything to do with…”
“Please,” Landon stops me. “Rachel, I’m trying to understand your… relationship with him, and why he keeps coming up between us.”
Us. Such a small word, but at that moment, it almost destroys me. I breathe. “I don’t think it makes any difference…” I stop talking, the intense burn in Landon’s eyes telling me that he won’t stop until I tell him the truth. “He told me he was engaged,” I say quietly.
Landon nods. “You were in love with him.”
It’s a statement, not a question. I don’t reply. I’d thought I was in love with Jack, but I’d been wrong. What I’d felt for Jack at the time was nothing compared to the emotions coursing through me now.
Landon isn’t done. His eyes are still on mine, searching and demanding answers. “Tell me what happened between you two.”
It doesn’t matter, I say silently. It ceased to matter the moment those elevator doors opened, and I saw you standing there. “I met him when I went to work at Gilt. We started seeing each other, and we stopped after about two months,” I shrug. “But we stayed friends.”
“Why did you stop seeing each other?”
“We didn’t want the same things.”
Landon chuckles, but he doesn’t sound or look amused. “You’re being deliberately vague.”
“I told him I was in love with him,” I turn back to the window, escaping the force and beauty of the ey
es trained on me. “He didn’t feel the same way.”
There is another silence from Landon. Is he wondering why I remained friends with Jack after that? Why two years later I was still so into him that I cared that he was getting engaged to someone else. Does it make him think less of me? Not that I should care what he thinks, after all, I’m supposed to be getting over him.
“You told me you were completely over Weyland,” Landon says, his voice low. “Were you being honest?”
If he only knew. I close my eyes, pushing away the pain threatening to engulf me. “There’s really no point in talking about Jack.”
He is silent. I listen to his fingers beat a low, erratic rhythm on the tops of his thighs. “Are you still in love with him?” I hear him say, his voice grave.
I consider saying yes. The idea cycles through my head, and I contemplate what would follow. Landon would walk away. There’s no way he’d keep pursuing me if he thought that I was in love with someone else. He’d let me go, and no matter how miserable that would make me, at least I’d have the space I need to get over him.
But I can’t bring myself to lie to him. There’s something in his eyes. Some emotion that reaches deep inside me and makes me want to remove every single doubt in my mind, to break down every single wall I’ve labored to put up between us. I pull in a shaky breath. “No,” I whisper softly. “I was never in love with him. For a while, I thought I was, but I was mistaken.”
Landon releases a long breath, then he leans towards me, a puzzled frown on his face. “Then why?”
His face is so close to mine that it’s difficult to think. My eyes slip to his lips, and I have a sudden memory of those lips on my skin, tasting, teasing... I swallow. “Why what?”
He covers my hand with his, the touch firm but gentle. I start to tremble, knowing that he only has to keep touching me and I’ll fall to pieces. I try to pull my hand away, but he holds on, bringing his other hand to keep mine between both of his. His next words are tender and probing “Why do you keep pushing me away?”
I try to remember all the reasons, but everything is clouded by my desire to give in, to forget my doubts, to surrender myself to him, for the pleasure…
