Page 92 of Deal Breaker
Noah is the first to react. His brows lift, stunned. “You’re sure?”
“She’s six.” My voice cracks. “We broke up seven years ago. And I saw her at the hospital. I didn’t need anyone to tell me. I knew.”
Wes lets out a long breath and then silence settles heavy over the room.
“She didn’t tell you?” Jesse asks finally.
“No. I found out.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I saw her. And it hit me like a freight train. And when I asked Landyn point blank, she confirmed it.”
Jesse sinks onto a stool at the island. “And you haven’t talked to her since?”
I shake my head. “I left. I was afraid if I stayed, I’d say something I couldn’t take back. I had to get out of there.”
Noah crosses the room and claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got every right to be angry, but you need to talk to her, man.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I admit. “I don’t know what to say. What kind of person does this? Keeps a child a secret?”
“A scared one,” Wes says quietly. “I’m not defending her, Ford. But maybe she thought she was doing the right thing at the time.”
I walk into the living room and drop into the chair beside the fireplace, my body heavy and useless. Jesse, Wes, and Noah follow.
“I wanted a life with her,” I whisper. “Part of me still does.”
The truth of it wrecks me. All these years. All that love. And now I don’t even know if I’ll ever trust her again.
Noah sits on the coffee table, his eyes locked on mine. “It’s messed up, man. The way you’re feeling right now? You deserve to feel that way. But, I know how much she matters to you. That’s a lot to walk away from.”
I look at him and ask the question that’s been running through my head all day. “How the hell am I supposed to forgive Landyn for keeping her from me?”
The silence that follows is thick. Noah is the first to speak, his voice steady, always calm when the rest of us are spiralling. “You don’t have to forgive her tonight. You let yourself be mad. Be hurt. Feel it all.”
Jesse nods. “And then you ask her why. I’ve known Landyn a long time, and she’s not cruel.”
“There has to be a reason,” Wes says. “And you should know what it is.”
I shake my head, “She hadyears, Wes. Seven fucking years.”
“I know,” he says. “And you’re not just going to get over that. But giving up on what you still want might only make it hurt more.”
I don’t answer but I know exactly what he means. I know what I want, and I feel like an idiot for still wanting it. I want Landyn. I want Poppy. I want every beautiful, messy, complicated thing about it. But there’s a wall between us now, and I’m not sure how the hell to cross it.
Quietly, Jesse adds, “She should’ve told you. You have every right to be angry over it, but I’ve never seen you act the way you do when you’re around her. I haven’t seen you that happy in a really long time. Don’tlet pride keep you from something you’ve wanted for years.”
I close my eyes, rub the heels of my hands against them, and swallow the truth I’m not ready to admit out loud.I still love her.God help me, I do.
An hour later, I’m alone again. Jesse offered to spend the night in a guest room, but I made him leave with the others, promising them I’d get some sleep. But I can’t, not yet.
I should go to bed. Instead, I pour another shot and sit at the kitchen table with a thousand memories running through my mind. I remember the exact moment I realized she was really gone all those years ago. It wasn’t when I woke up to an empty bed. It wasn’t even when I saw her toothbrush was missing from my bathroom. It wasn’t until a few days later, when I opened the fridge and saw the stupid oat milk she always insisted on buying sitting unopened on the shelf.
That’s when it hit me. She wasn’t coming back.
And the thing is…I didn’t see it coming. Not even a hint. The night before, she kissed me goodnight like she always did. Tucked her cold feet between my legs under the blanket and whispered that she loved me.
And the next afternoon she was just gone. There was no fight. No big, dramatic exit. No closure.
I waited weeks before I told anyone. I kept making excuses for her, checking my phone like a lunatic, thinking maybe she just needed space. Maybe something had happened. The alternative—that she just left me like we hadn’t built something, like I hadn’t loved her with everything I had—just didn’t make sense. I even called her parents when she hadn’t responded to any of my messages, worried that maybe she was in trouble. Her mom had told me that Landyn was okay, but that she’d had to leave town.She needed time, she’d said, sympathy in her voice. And that was it.
And the worst part? I never did get a reason. She took all of it—the love, the plans, the future we talked about—and disappeared. And I was left here with nothing but unanswered questions. Even now, years later, I have no idea what was going through her mind.
