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…”