“Right?” She sighs. “It feels as if my mom has been waiting for this moment since I was born. I don’t even want to think about the real wedding.”
“It’ll be beautiful,” I assure her.
“I know.” She laughs. “I just wish all the preparations were over and we were like, married already.” She looks at me. “I shouldn’t be complaining though. When’s your interview?”
“Next week.” I sigh. “At least there’s that for me to look forward to.”
Laurie rises from the bed and takes my hand. “Let’s have fun today. It’s a party after all.”
She’s right. The party starts in the afternoon, spilling from the garden into the lawn, and it is fun. After the toasts and congratulations and the buffet, the DJ kicks it up and everybody moves to the lawn to dance. Laurie and Brett are in the midst of it all, making up their own dance moves and laughing hysterically.
I’ve danced with Jordan, Brett’s partner at the gym, with Dylan, and Chelsea, who arrived early and joined us upstairs in Laurie’s bedroom. An assortment of Laurie’s colleagues also come - cute lawyerly types with nice haircuts and tattoos that wouldn’t be visible if they were wearing suits. One of them, I’m not sure which one, even slipped a card into my hand and asked me to call him to hang out sometime.
I take a sip from my fruit punch and watch the rest of the party from my place on a lawn chair, studiously ignoring Laurie’s calls to come back and dance. Now that I’m tired, it’s easy for my mind to return to Landon. I’ve tried my best to enjoy myself, but it’s still hard to look at Laurie and Brett with the knowledge that it will never be Landon and me announcing our love to the world, and that it was always ridiculous to hope.
“Hey.” It’s one of the guys from Laurie’s office, Brad or Tatum? He’s new, so I’m not quite sure. He grins and takes the chair beside mine. “You’re not dancing,” he states.
He has beautiful dimples, and he’s probably nice too. For some reason, that thought makes me sad. I think it’s the realization that Landon has ruined me for every other guy, no matter how cute, or nice. “I’m a little tired,” I reply.
“Okay.” He’s still smiling. “Laurie says you work at Gilt magazines.”
“Yeah.”
“I read the men’s style mag sometimes,” he tells me. “Must be interesting to work there.”
“It is.”
The conversation flags. On the lawn, everyone is still dancing. Had he been about to ask me to dance? I don’t think I can bear another round of smiling and pretending to enjoy the music that’s only making me feel lonelier than ever.
I get up and give him an apologetic smile. “I’m gonna fetch something,” I murmur. “It was nice talking to you…”
“Jamie,” he says. He smiles again and the dimples are heartbreakingly cute. “My name’s Jamie.”
I nod. “It was nice talking to you, Jamie.”
After that, I walk away from the party, but I don’t go inside. Instead, I walk along the side of the house to the end of the garden, where there’s a small white gazebo overlooking aunt Jacie’s tulips. It’s where she goes when she wants to read in the peace of the garden. Now, even with the noise of the party, the music and laughter, it’s still somewhat peaceful.
Taking one of the seats inside, I draw up my legs, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on my knees.
Two weeks, and not even a single word.
I’d known the risk I was taking when I told Landon that I was in love with him, but still, I’d hoped that it would make him realize that he had feelings for me too. Now, it was obvious that he did not, that I’d probably always overestimated what I meant to him.
At times like this, my mind starts to run over everything he ever said to me. All the things that made me believe that what we had was special, that I wasn’t the only one who had been drawn into the wild emotional vortex that was him and me.
But I was, obviously. While I’d been falling madly in love with him, he’d remained unscathed, able to walk away without looking back. While I was barely holding on to reason, he was perfectly able to let me go, and go on, with maybe only a few regrets.
He was Landon Court, after all, and he didn’t do commitment.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. I can’t keep waiting for him. It’s clear now, more than anything, that I have to move on with my life. I have to forget him.
My heart rebels against the thought, giving in to the aching feeling that follows it. I don’t want to move on. I want to hold on to my memories and my feelings. I want to live on them for as long as I can, because as strong as I’ve tried to be, the thought of a life without Landon makes me want to hide somewhere and cry my heart out.
A gentle breeze rustles the trees surrounding the garden, and I hug myself tighter, letting a single tear drip slowly down my cheek. One day, I’ll stop the self-immolation and move on with my life, but for now, I just want to think about Landon, to remember what it was like to be with him.
“Rachel.”
I stiffen at the sound of the familiar voice, sure that I’ve only imagined it, and yet, desperately hopeful that it’s real. I don’t want to move, I don’t want to turn around to look, for fear that he won’t be there, that my desire for him has conjured him as a tortuous trick on my mind, and I’ll see only the flowers in the garden, not Landon.