Page 19 of Deal Breaker
I tip my head in a nod, gaze drifting back toward the center of the room where Jesse is now talking animatedly to the mayor. No Landyn in sight.
“She working out so far?” Wes asks.
“She’s smart. She knows the brand.” I pause, wondering where Landyn is. “She’s good. She should be able to help get us out of the mess we’re in.”
“But?”
“But nothing.”
Wes arches a brow. “Ford.”
I exhale. “I don’t know what the hell she’s doing here. Orwhy now. But I can’t let her distract me from everything we’ve built.”
Wes is quiet a long beat. Then he says, “You ever think maybe this—her being here—is part of what we built?”
That lands like a punch I’m not ready for.
“She’s not part of Cove,” I answer tightly.
“No, not now. But she once was and she might still be part of you.”
The words hang there, between us, until someone calls Wes’s name from across the room.
He gives me one last look. “Try not to ruin the night. Or light Jesse on fire.” Then he walks away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving me standing here with nothing but old memories and a heartbeat that still hasn’t settled.
I need air.
Too many faces. Too much noise.
I slip away from it all, through a quiet, dimly lit hallway, and for a minute, I let myself breathe until I see her.
Landyn stands near the window, silhouetted by silver moonlight, her arms wrapped around her waist like a shield. She doesn’t see me at first, and I don’t move. I just watch her like a man who has never stopped wanting what he couldn’t have. She turns before I can pretend that I’m not staring at her, and the second our eyes meet, everything inside me pulls tight.
“I just needed a minute,” she says, voice soft and hesitant around the edges. “I’ll get back to the gala.”
“I didn’t come out here to scold you.”
Her jaw tightens. “Right.”
I’m not surprised to find her here. Landyn always liked quiet. It’s one of the reasons she used to love the ocean. She said the noise in her head got quieter when she was close to the water.
“I didn’t come out here to check on you either.” I add. “I came out for air. Same as you.”
“I’m sorry, Ford.”
The words fall out of her like they’ve been weighing her down for years, but they don’t land anywhere close to enough. Nothing she could say ever would.
My fingers shove through my hair, yanking hard at the roots, trying to dull the sharp edge of pain lashing through me. It’s useless. It’s impossible to control.
When she left, I didn’t handle it well. Didn’t is putting it mildly—I came apart at the seams. For weeks, there was nothing outside my grief. Nothing but the hole she’d left behind.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, bowing her head as if she can hide from it. Her hands tremble before she forces them to still. “I’m not proud of what I did, Ford. I feel horrible.”
I let out a rough, bitter laugh, shaking my head. “By the time I started thinking straight, I tried to find you. But you’d blocked me.” My voice cracks, anger mixing with years of hurt. “Even if you hadn’t, I don’t know what I would’ve said. Not then. I was so goddamn mad… but I would’ve liked to at least get an answer from you. Something.”
Her nose scrunches, like my words physically hit her. She swallows hard. “I… I didn’t know what else to do,” she admits quietly. “I had to—” Her voice breaks, and she shakes her head. “To survive it, I guess.”
The confession slices through me, sharp and merciless.What was she trying to survive?
