I don’t say anything.
“You can’t keep running whenever you feel things aren’t perfect, Rach.”
“I’m not running. I’m going to tell him why we aren’t working, and I’m going to make him understand that maybe it’s best that we let each other go.”
She snorts. “Will you tell him you’re in love with him?”
I’m quiet, and I hear her sigh. “You’ve never faced up to admitting, to him, or even to yourself, what you really want. What would make you less insecure, Rach? Him admitting to being in love with you too? Maybe he is. Maybe you both make it hard for yourselves. The truth is, relationships aren’t always smooth sailing. Maybe the people around you have shielded you from their conflicts so much that you think love is always kisses and sunshine, but that’s not the case. Sometimes you both have to work at it. It’s when one or both partners are uninterested in doing the work that… you know, you call it quits.” She sighs. “Tell him how you feel Rach. If you don’t, he’ll never know, and you’ll always wonder what would have happened if you did. So be honest. Find out for sure how he feels. Stop running. No matter what happens next, you can handle it.”
After our conversation, I sit outside on the balcony, watching the sun set over the horizon. Could I really just tell him? I imagine the worst case scenario, a rejection of my love, and it makes my body stiffen with dread and pain.
I can’t bear that.
I imagine walking away again. I can do that, especially if he doesn’t come after me, to break down my weary walls with the promise of passion and pleasure.
But why would he, now that Ava was back in his life?
The sun turns a brilliant orange, burning up the clouds and sky in a final burst of vivid colors before it dies for the day. Inside the suite, the hotel phone starts to ring and I leave the balcony to answer it. It’s the people from the newly opened spa, asking if I’m ready for them. They arrive soon after, and I sit silently, my mind still in turmoil as my hair, nails, and makeup get the professional treatment.
Afterward, I go back to the bedroom to lay out my dress on the bed, then put on my jewelry, a pair of deep sapphire drop earrings my parents gave me on my twenty-first birthday. The vibrant blue stones remind me now of Landon’s eyes, and there is another sharp pang of impending loss.
In the bathroom mirror, I stare at my reflection. My lips are a rich plum, my eyes rimmed with vibrant shadow and my lashes embellished with a mildly colored mascara. It’s not a look I’m used to, but it’s in line with the theme of the ball and with my dress. The hair stylist had exclaimed with delight when she saw my hairpiece, and she styled my hair in an elaborate curl over one shoulder, with the hairpiece glittering softly along the side of my head.
Making my way back to the bedroom, I’m surprised to find Landon in the dressing room, pulling on the jacket of his tuxedo. I watch him button it, not moving until he sees me in the full-length mirror in front of him. He turns around, his eyes taking me in, lingering on my face. He starts to come towards me, then he stops himself.
“You look incredible,” he says.
“Thanks,” I reply quietly. “I’ll just put on my dress and I’ll be ready.”
He follows me to the bedroom, waiting as I lift the dress from the bed and slip it on, letting the folds slide over my body. I reach for the zipper, but Landon is already there. His hands flutter over my back as he zips me up. When he steps back and I turn to face him, I watch his chest swell.
“I…” he smiles tenderly, “I’m speechless.”
The words are soft, almost like an entreaty. I blink rapidly, thinking how strange it is that suddenly everything makes me want to cry. I’m feeling raw with everything that seems so wrong with us, and yet, being here with him, it’s the only thing I really want. The one thing I want more than anything else.
And yet, I’m not happy.
“Thank you,” I smile up at him, blinking back tears. I watch uncomprehendingly as he drops to his knees. My shoes are in a box on the floor. Slowly, and with reverent care, he slips each one on my feet then rises.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” he says.
I watch him leave, admiring his beauty, desiring his love, and aching because I know that for my sanity, and for any chance I can ever have at happiness, I’ll have to let him go.
THERE is a red carpet and a backdrop at the entrance to the main lobby. I join Landon in smiling for the cameras and greeting guests, schooling my face into an expression of happiness that I don’t feel.
The red carpet leads from the lobby to the ballroom, where the doors are thrown open to reveal the fantastical décor inside. Soft lights shimmer down from the ceiling, creating the effect of a moonlit night, flowers adorn the tables, and servers dressed as sprites and fairies drift around with trays. From somewhere, I hear the sound of running water blending seamlessly with the beautiful music coming from the orchestra.
“It’s very beautiful,” I whisper to Landon, awed beyond anything I expected to feel.
He squeezes my hand. “Thank you.”
The guests are mostly distinguished people from all over the country. I recognize the famous faces, politicians, actors, musicians, tech billionaires, a posse of glamorous models… there are even a few people from Gilt. Everyone wants to talk to Landon, to congratulate him, and to ask questions. He keeps me by his side while he does what he does in public. He greets and engages his guests, his smile, his voice and mannerisms communicating his faultless manners, and yet also, setting him apart from the people around him. It gives me a feeling, like I’m the only one in the crowd who has access to the enigmatic man inside the suit.
“Took you long enough to get here.” The words are warm and affectionate, a departure from the way he’s been all night. I look in the direction he’s facing and see Aidan grinning widely. His tuxedo looks almost as good on him as Landon’s, and he wears it with an air of charming insouciance. He approaches us and pumps his brother’s hand. “God! It is lovely,” he exclaims, looking around. “You did it again. I’m sorry I’m late.”
Landon is smiling. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Last minute issues with the play,” Aidan replies, before turning to me. “Didn’t hurt that he had a plane waiting for me,” he says, hugging me lightly and dropping a kiss on my cheek. “It’s good to see you, Rachel.”