Everything blurs into work, sleep, and the temptation to call Landon. I want to tell him that I understand why he’d want to end things, but that I would have appreciated it if he’d chosen to tell me to my face. Then I remember the way I left him in San Francisco while he was asleep. I was so sure it was the right thing to do. It made sense at the time to give him the space to decide for himself that he wanted to be with me, above anything else.
Now, I’m no longer sure of anything. Just like the song, I left my heart in San Francisco, and it has come back to me, bloody and broken.
One day, the pain will dull. It’s what I tell myself, with more hope than any kind of certainty.
My mom has been calling almost every day to ask how I am and chatter about party plans. I suspect she’s actually calling to make sure I’m all right, but I don’t mind. The distraction helps. Most times, I check my emails while we talk, and today in particular, she’s going on about some artist friend of hers who might be at Laurie’s engagement party when I open and read a strange email from the Gilt Review.
At first, I think it might be information about my subscription to the magazine, and I have to bite back my shock when I see that it’s a response to my application from two years ago. I frown at the screen, unsure if the invitation to schedule an interview is a mistake.
“Are you there, sweetheart?” I hear my mom say.
“Yeah…” I’m still frowning. “Something came up Mom, I’ll call you back.”
When she’s off the phone, I read the email again, unsure what to think. It’s from Liz Buckley, one of the senior editors over at Review. Certain there’s been some kind of mistake, I call her office, and she confirms that they want me to come in for an interview.
It’s always been my dream to work at the Gilt Review, and I’ve continued to nurse that dream after I applied there but got the job at Gilt Traveler instead. I always assumed that one day, when I made editor, I would apply again, but I never expected them to invite me for an interview two years later, without any effort on my part. I can almost swear something like this has never happened before.
I’m uncertain, but I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially with everything else that’s going on in my life. I need a change of environment. I need the feeling of starting afresh, even if it’s only on a different floor. By the time I leave for home at the end of the day, I’m already looking forward to my interview, hoping I’ll get the job, and that the new set of challenges and responsibilities will help me to stop dwelling on Landon Court.
THE next day, I run into Jack Weyland in the ground floor lobby on my way out to lunch. I haven’t seen him since the night he kissed me outside Landon’s club, and I’m still pissed at him. So, when I see him across the wide marble space staring at me, I look away and keep walking.
He catches up with me outside the building and falls into step beside me. “Hello Rachel.”
“Hi Jack,” I say dryly, letting my voice communicate how much I don’t want to talk to him.
“Come on.” He stretches his hand out to stop me. “Rachel, can I just have a minute?”
Without stopping, I pull my arm out of his reach. “Don’t touch me.”
He swallows and steps back. “I’m sorry.”
I sigh, sorry for snapping at him, but convinced that he deserved it. Slowing down, I turn to face him. “What do you want, Jack?”
“To apologize about the other night.” He looks contrite. “I really am sorry.”
I pause for a moment before giving him a small nod. “Okay. Can I go have my lunch now?”
“Can we at least talk?”
“No,” I exclaim with a grimace, turning on my heel and starting to walk again.
He follows me. “Please,” I hear him say. “Let me join you. I just want to apologize.”
I don’t reply, but I don’t tell him to get lost either, so he follows me all the way to the deli around the corner from the office. We used to eat there together all the time, in the days when I was still waiting for him to realize he loved me.
Now I guess he did, but it was too late, for both of us.
We put in our orders, and while we’re waiting for the food to arrive, I give him an impatient glare from across the table.
“I don’t know why you need to make a big ceremony out of apologizing,” I say. “Seriously.”
Jack is quiet. “I meant what I said that night,” he starts. “About my feelings for you.”
I roll my eyes. “Not again, Jack. I can’t do this again.”
He holds up a hand. “I know. I just wanted you to know that I didn’t say those things because I was jealous of Court, or the fact that you were happy. I meant them.” He closes his eyes and gives me a small, sad smile. “I’m leaving Gilt.”
“Oh!” I can’t hide my shock. He’s been at Gilt Traveler for far longer than I have. He is one of our most talented and well-traveled writers, and he actually knows how to write. I frown, not sure that I understand. “Why?”
He shrugs. “I need a change of scenery, I guess.”
Does that have anything to do with me? It’s strange to think that his feelings for me could be so intense that he couldn’t stand to work in the same building. What an irony that would be, I think uncomprehendingly before dismissing the idea. There’s bound to be another reason.
“Where will you go?”
“I have a deal to extend my three-episode special to a ten-episode season, so I’m moving to LA. I’ll be working more closely with the producers anyway. I might as well take the distance out of the equation.”
“Of course.” His TV appearances have been remarkably successful. I imagine all the dangerous things he’ll have to do, year after year. All the places he’ll have to travel to keep people interested in watching him on TV, but that is what he loves doing, so I guess it isn’t such a bad deal.
“I’m thinking of writing a book too,” Jack continues. “I’ve had enough experiences to write a few, I think.”
I nod. “You’re a great writer. I’d read anything you wrote.”
There is a small pause. “It’s really nice to hear that,” he says.
Our food arrives, and while we eat, we talk about what his life will be like in LA. There’s an undercurrent of sadness in our conversation, but I choose not to dwell on it, concentrating instead on how change really is the only constant thing.
“I got an email today,” I mention, deciding to tell him about my invitation from the Gilt Review. “I have an interview with the Review. The strange thing is I didn’t reapply. Somehow, they responded to my application from two years ago.”
Jack raises an eyebrow then chuckles. “I guess my mom really liked you.”
His mom? I remember that strange evening with Gertrude Weyland that ended with Jack trying to kiss me on the street. “What do you mean?”
“She’s been in talks to take over as the new editor of Review. She finally said yes, last week, I think. She’s been reviewing files from home. Maybe after talking to you she decided she wanted to work with you.”
I shake my head. I thought his mother had a certain charm despite the weird relationship with her son. However, what would it be like to actually work for her? And am I sure I want to find out?
“Is that why you’re leaving Gilt?” I ask Jack. “You don’t want to work in the same building as your mother?”
He shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe.” After a pause, he continues. “So will you take the job if you get it?”
I think about it. “Most likely, though I don’t understand at all.” I give him a look. “Should I be worried?”
“Jessica Layner won’t want to let you go, but if she does, my mother would be a fool not to do everything to make sure you stay with her. You’re an asset at Traveler. You’d be invaluable to Review, and she’d be lucky to have you.”
I smile, touched by his encouragement. “Thanks.”
His eyes linger on my face for a long moment. I’m done with my food, and I know it’s time to go back, to walk away, not just from the restaurant, but from Jack.
“I hope it works out in LA,” I tell him.
“Yes.” He grins then sobers and reaches across the table for my hand. “I hope you’ll be happy,” he says. “You deserve it, and if Court gives you that, then I wish you all the best.”
I look down at his hand over mine on the table, tempted to tell him that Landon and I are no longer together. I’m feeling emotional, from saying goodbye to Jack, and from the reminder about Landon and his long, painful silence.
“Thanks.” I smile at Jack again, sure that my eyes are glistening. I pull my hand back from his and get up. “Thank you, Jack.” I put some money on the table before I go, leaving him sitting there. I’m sure, but not necessarily regretful, that we will never have another intimate conversation ever again.
“I’M going to move in with Brett,” Laurie tells me on Thursday evening. She looks worried, unsure of how I’ll react. “He asked and I said yes.”
It’s day twelve after Landon, and while I’m still feeling tender, I’ve been trying to concentrate on all the things I can still look forward to and anticipate with pleasure. There’s my interview, for example, as well as Laurie’s engagement party, and the wedding.
“When did this happen?” I ask, delighted for her.
“Today at lunch.” She smiles. “You know the gym has been growing.”
“Yes.” They recently opened two more locations, and with his business partner, Brett developed a line of fitness products and videos that have been getting rave reviews.
“Well, with the success of the gym, the bigger apartment, and us getting married, he thinks it’s time.”
I nod, already missing her. “It’s what you want too, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad then.” I smile at her then cast one look around the living room of our apartment, the home we’ve shared for two years. “Everything’s changing,” I say with a sad smile. “I’m happy, but it’s scary.”
Laurie nods, agreeing with me. “I’ll miss living with you.”
“Me too.”
“Will you be all right?”
I shrug. “I’ve been planning to kick you out forever so I don’t have to watch those awful reality shows.”
“You love them,” she says with a playful grin. “You’ll watch them when I’m gone.”
“Only when I miss you.”
“So all the time.”
Suddenly we’re both crying, happy and sad at the same time.
“Being grown up is so weird,” Laurie says finally. “Everything was so much easier when we were kids.”
Later in bed, I’m thinking of all the ways my life is going to change when I get an alert on my phone. It’s one of the email notifications I set up for news about Landon. I’m tempted to open it, to read about what he’s up to, to feast my eyes on the pictures of him and wonder what he’s thinking, if he thinks about me at all.
I resist the temptation, and before I go to sleep, I delete all the alerts and notifications I set up for him. I won’t be reading about him anymore. I won’t continue to torture myself by dwelling on him. There’s simply no need.
ON Saturday, Laurie and I go upstate. The cab drops me off at my parents’ before taking her the additional twenty minutes to her parents’ home, where the engagement party is being held. I’m spending the night at home, and then we’re all going to Uncle Taylor’s and Aunt Jacie’s in the morning.
My dad stays in his study most of the day, and my mom is on the phone with Aunt Jacie and with vendors, making last-minute preparations. I remain in my old room until my brother Dylan arrives, and we stay up most of the night watching movies and snacking.
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, and 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 dance with Jordan, Brett’s partner at the gym, with Dylan, and with 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.”
“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. Is he 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 knew the risk I was taking when I told Landon I was in love with him, but still, I’d hoped it would make him realize he had feelings for me too. Now, it is obvious that he did not, that I 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 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 fell madly in love with him, he remained unscathed, able to walk away without looking back. While I am barely holding on to reason, he’s perfectly able to let me go, and go on, with maybe only a few regrets.
He is Landon Court, after all, and he doesn’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 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.”