I stifle a groan. “Seriously, dude? The whole beach and you have to plop down next to me?”
Landon smirks. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m good. How’s your ego after the loss?”
“It’s still intact.” His brown eyes bore into mine. “You know, I never had an issue with losing to a girl. You keep saying that, but that was never a problem for me.”
I cough out an incredulous laugh. “So, your issue was just with me then?”
“My issue was my father, and the pressure of trying to get the hell out of this place.”
I let his words hang between us, let them sink into my brain, into the perception I’ve had all this time. I was so focused on myself back then, on winning, on being the best. I knew Landon was going through a difficult time, but I didn’t truly put myself in his shoes.
He’s right. We were young. Our worlds revolved around ourselves, and showing empathy for the other wasn’t a priority when it got in the way of our own wants.
I tear my eyes away from his and focus on the rippling water ahead of us. “Look, today’s not the day to rehash our past.”
“But another day?” He leans in, pulling my attention back to him. “Another day, you’ll let this conversation happen?”
My eyes bounce between his. “Sure.”
I don’t know if I mean it or not, but it’ll stop him from looking at me with such intensity, like this matters to him.
Like what I feel towards him matters.
It shouldn’t.
Just like it shouldn’t matter why he chose to put my father’s name on the back of his shirt today.
Yet...
“Why did you put his name on your shirt?”
This time it’s Landon who casts his gaze toward the ocean. “He was a good man. I wanted to run today in memory of him.”
I watch his profile, his sharp jawline, the slope of his nose, the way his dark lashes fan out as he blinks.
“You’re lucky you had him for the time that you did,” he says. “I’d trade spots with you in a heartbeat. To have someone love you so fiercely, even if only for a short time, is worth everything.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and my throat burns. “Losing him wrecked me.”
“I know.” His hand moves across the sand to cover mine. “Neither of you deserved that.”
“You didn’t deserve what your father did to you either.”
A light chuckle rumbles in his chest. “None of us deserved the hands we got dealt. That’s life though. My therapist helped me come to terms with that. Life’s not fair, and bad shit happens to good people. But you don’t have to focus on that. You can choose to focus on the good. On the happy moments we get. Those make all the bad worthwhile.”
I nod. “Change your perspective.”
“Exactly.”
I grimace. “I could probably benefit from some of that.”
“You think?” He laughs. “Therapy really helped. You should try it.”
It’s not a jab this time. It’s a piece of advice.
From a friend...?
