looks away. I’m going to miss her when she leaves Brooklyn. I was pretty bummed when she told me she was moving to be closer to her aunt. I understand, though. Her grandma’s health is declining, and it must be hard for her to take care of an autistic toddler all alone. Posey is just a good person, through and through.
“Are you still seeing Aiden?” I ask before Dakota can elaborate on her recent thoughts about me.
She smiles and leans back against the chair. “Sort of.”
“Hmm . . .” If I have nothing nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all.
“Nora said you haven’t called her at all.”
Why is Dakota sitting here talking to me about Nora? Isn’t this like some conflict of interest? It’s also very awkward.
But maybe—maybe—we can have this type of friendship. I don’t want us to be one of those couples who break up and turn into enemies. I don’t want us to have that. I fell in love with her for a reason. No matter how things are now, I loved her at one point. I will never understand those guys who say awful things about their exes—attack their appearance or disrespect them—when just a few days before the girl was “sexy” and their Wednesday Woman Crush online.
Or is it Woman Crush on Wednesday?
“Landon, why haven’t you called her?”
A customer walks through the door, and I stand up. “I have to get back to work.”
As I lift the partition to get behind the bar, I hear Dakota say, “Call her.”
Which just makes me all kinds of confused.
This isn’t how this type of thing usually goes. The angry, horrible ex doesn’t try to help you with your girl troubles. Especially when she hates the new girl.
Chapter Thirty-six
Nora
LUNCH IS ALMOST DONE; the timer goes off in the kitchen, and I push Amir down the hall. Jennifer is here again, but I asked her to stay upstairs. I’m trying to get used to being alone with him again. The house feels bigger than it ever did. It’s hard to imagine myself as the type of person who would need this massive house in order to be happy. It never felt as big as it does now. I take the corner of Amir’s chair and push him down the beautiful dark wooden ramp put in just for him.
The despair and denial on Amir’s mother’s face was chilling. I felt for her, I felt for Ameen, for their sister, Pedra, whom I was close friends with, but I never took the time to deal with the loss of my husband. It was also hard for me to admit that if the accident hadn’t happened, we would have ended up divorced. I believe that we would have happily gone our separate ways, and stayed friends through both of our lives. I would have been happy for him to get married, to have children.
The mention of children makes my stomach burn. I don’t like to focus too long on the things he’ll be missing out on. It’s not good for me, or for him. I would like to think that having me around more is making him happier.
I didn’t leave his side for months after his accident. I slept at the hospital until we moved into our house. The house was supposed to be a wedding gift from his family, even though we had already been married for two years.
“I made cabbage and bread,” I tell him, unsure as always if he can even hear me. Jennifer insists that can, but what does she know? I think that’s more a spiritual hope than reality.
I pull the curtains back and open the blinds. When was the last time he went outside? I need to ask Jennifer.
I pop the maple squares I’m baking into the oven. When I make myself a plate, I wish he could eat with me. I miss the vibrancy that radiated from within him. I like to talk to him about our past, how wild we were as teenagers, and once, I swear he smiled.
Since I’ve seen Landon last, I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. Sometimes we just have those people we are tied to for our entire lives. Landon has Dakota, Stausey has Ameen, Tessa has Hardin, and Amir has me.
The aroma of the cabbage immediately fills the kitchen, and I try my hardest not to think about the way Landon kissed me between each bite of the cabbage I made him. I loved every silly, simple moment with him. He made me feel like a better person.
He gave me hope, even if it’s hard to explain what the hope was for.
Once upon a time, Landon hated my cooking, which is funny even still because he loved his mom’s cooking and she was the worst. The woman burned grilled cheese, for God’s sake.
When I take a bite of the cabbage, Landon’s face fills my head. He was so cute, so sweet, when I fed him my cabbage.
I throw my plate of food in the trash.
“Let’s go outside,” I tell Amir. I grab my book from the counter and slowly push him out to the patio. It’s colder now, the last week of October is here. Tomorrow is Halloween, and I’ve been in hiding for so long that I am debating whether to ever leave this house on the hill.
It’s silent out here and no neighbors are close to us. That was my favorite thing about the house. Back when I had a favorite thing.
Amir watches me without expression in his eyes. Is he in pain? Jennifer says he’s not, but again, what does she know?
I open my book and read a chapter out loud to Amir. I don’t know if he ever liked Harry Potter, we never talked about it. I knew a lot of things about him—his family, his favorite shows. But I didn’t know half the things about him that I do about Landon.