“Veryglamorous,” Landon amended. “I must have had that one confused with another Dickens.”
Rose chuckled. “It wasn’t really about living a glamorously orphaned life. There was just something about the speed of a car crash that really appealed to me. With my dad, I had a long time to come to terms with his death, but at the end of the day it still wrecked me. Five years to find a way to cope, and I was still a puddle. And my mom is on this interminable off-ramp that will let out God knows when and where. But a car crash:poof. Gone. Here one minute, gone the next.”
“I see.” And his tone suggested he did. It was as addictive a feeling as being onstage the first time had been, finally, finally sharing these ugly parts of herself with someone else—the raw, buried, unspoken feelings. Now that she’d started, she wasn’t sure she could stop. She wanted more. As much as Landon would give.
“Can I tell you something worse?”
“Tell me a thousand worse things.” She was momentarily sidetracked by how sexy the words were, even though he clearly hadn’t meant them to be. Maybe especially because he hadn’t meant them to be.
“I don’t think my mother loves me anymore.” This was not something Rose had ever thought about, not something her younger self had scribbled in her journals or volleyed back and forth during long nights that stretched to days in her worst bouts of insomnia. It was something she could only see now that she’d had some distance. Her new eyes took in her mother’s failures with the cool detachment necessary to pass such judgment. “That’s the only rational explanation. Five years ago, I learned I wouldn’thave a dad. That same day—that very same day—she decided I wouldn’t have a mom, either.”
“I guess she did do that.” Landon moved his arms with uncharacteristic fluidity and ran them through her hair. It was heaven, his fingers massaging her scalp, pulling out the day’s tangles.
“I don’t even know if I want to have kids,” Rose said. “I guess I should have prepared you for the third horrible thing.”
“That’s not horrible,” Landon said. “Even without the dead dad card.”
“I look at my mom and I just—” Rose closed her eyes, fumbling in the dark. “What aboutme?” she whispered. “My dad is gone, but I’m not. I’m here. And she’s the only one who knows what it felt like for our three-legged stool to topple, and she won’t evenlookat me. What if she broke me? Sometimes I feel…” Rose grasped for the right word only to realize she’d already found it. “Broken.”
“You don’t deserve this,” Landon said. He placed a thumb on her cheek and rubbed the raised ridges over her smooth skin. “And you’re not broken.” The thin line of his mouth flipped up into a slight smile. “But if you’re worried, you could always try resetting to factory settings.”
Rose grabbed the thread earnestly. “Exactly.” She twirled like an otter to face him. “That’s what I did. I thought maybe I was broken—that there was something inside me that would always be broken—so I left that parthere.” His dark eyes still held some of the sadness he’d been carrying with her all day, but now they glimmered with something else—something like lust but without the typical frenzy. “And I met Poppy.”
Landon snorted. “Poppy always seems to find a way into our bed.”
Rose slipped her fingers through his. “She didn’t think I was broken. She thought I was crazy, and a terrible driver, but not broken. Even when I told her things that should have set off alarm bells. And she’s the reason we met.” Rose’s heart struggled to keep time. “I wouldn’t have worn the black dress without her. I don’t even know why I bought it, honestly, it was so unlike me. But she saw it and she knew: That dresswasme.”
“Rose—” Landon interjected, but she wasn’t finished.
“I didn’t think this would ever happen. My parents’ love only lasted long enough to show me that even when it’sperfect, it’s not enough. I thought I wouldn’t ever be enough. I didn’t think—Landon, I never thought—”
Then his mouth was on hers as though he would die if he didn’t find a way to connect their bodies that instant. She rolled into him and ran her hands through his hair and practiced the three words in her head:I love you, I love you, I love you.They felt as natural and inevitable as his mouth had on hers, as necessary and instinctual as the kiss. Landon pulled away first.
“I love you,” he said. It came out loudly, forcefully, like he’d known she was about to be the first to say it and had only seconds to claim it. “I swore I wasn’t going to tell you today. I mean it—ask Conor. I knew today was not the right day. But your dad is dead and you asked me to be here with you, and that’s when I realized there was a good chance you might feel it, too.” Landon didn’t leave space for Rose’s reaction. “I almost shouted it in the kitchen because, Rose, you don’t deserve that. You deserve a love so big you can wrap yourself in it. I have almost told you so many times, and way too soon, and even if this is still too soon and all wrong, I can’t hold it in any longer, so here it is: I love you, Rose.”
She’d just showed him three of her darkest corners, and heloved her. Rose was almost speechless. But not quite. “I love you, too.”
There could be no more words between them. When you reach the top of a mountain, there’s only downhill. Rose lunged for Landon at the same time as he lunged for her, and they each tried their hand at translating the three words they’d shared. It was hungry, and fervent, and messy, like they hadn’t done this so many times before. And in a way, they hadn’t. This love was a small work of alchemy, marking a new beginning on the heels of one of life’s most painful endings.
In the room her young self had once shattered, Rose found a wholeness she never could have achieved on her own. When they were through, she felt she was seeing with new eyes. Because when you are loved, all things are possible.
Chapter Eleven
“Jamie, you made it!” Rose’s familiar voice instantly soothed Landon’s heart, which had been beating erratically since he’d re-met her twenty-eight hours ago. “And you brought a friend.”
“Told you I would.” Landon clapped Dave on the back.
“Brought some snacks,” Dave said, holding a Tesco bag. “Just a few things to nibble on. Have you tried Cadbury Creme Eggs before? I’ve already put on five pounds from the stuff—wife’s gonna kill me.” Landon did not interject to mention that Dave had only been in the country for three days.
Rose giggled. “I have indulged in a Cadbury Egg here and there.”
“Got to watch your figure, I s’pose,” Dave said. “What with your occupation.”
“Already telling your friends about me, I see.” Rose batted Landon playfully, and he tried very hard not to let the gesture visibly excite him.
“Oh, you know,” Landon said, aware he was blushing and unable to do anything about it, “just the basics.”
Nothing could be further from the truth. Last night, when Landon had made it back to the hostel after a long walk in whichhe refused to admit he was lost, he’d found Dave and told him every excruciating detail of his day, running the gamut from Rose’s keen artistic eye to Graham’s alarmingly large arms. It hadn’t taken any convincing to get Dave to agree to come with him to the meeting. It seemed Rose was right: Most people who’d taken the pill were fascinated by it, eager for any chance to discuss. It had, however, taken three practice sessions to get Dave to reliably refer to him as Jamie. Landon was still not convinced that Dave wouldn’t slip up when the beer inevitably started flowing.
