The thing.Rose sat up straight. She held her breath.
“Rose Amelia Martin. Will you marry me?”
Marriage.
Husband and wife.
A life together.
She’d known it was coming, but so soon? Here? Today?
Tick, tick, tick.
She could feel him waiting for her answer like his nerves had grown sentient. She looked down at the ring clutched between his pointer finger and thumb. The star was gone one minute, there the next. She thought of what she’d lost. Then she thought about Landon. Landon, who had always seen her for exactly who she wanted to be, who made her laugh at all the right and wrong times, who celebrated her every achievement as though they were his own, who had such an old soul she wondered sometimes whether they had already met. When she was a girl and had fallen asleep in the car, her body felt the last three familiar turns, heardthe car pull up on familiar gravel. Being with Landon felt like that. Even half asleep, her body would always know it was home.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes!” she yelled. She thrust herself at him, overcome with a joy so clear and true she knew she would never experience anything like it again.
“Yes!” he said, kissing her, hands and body shaking. He held Rose by her fingertips and placed the ring with such reverence the moment turned holy. Rose spun her hand back and forth, marveling at the magic trick.
“A little big,” she said.
Landon’s smile could power the city. “Almost perfect.”
Chapter Fifteen
Landon paced back and forth in front of Tesco’s on Holyrood trying very hard not to look at his watch. Like a princess and a pea, the star sapphire he’d stored under the mattress had upset his already restless sleep and led to strange dreams that he woke from frequently. He’d set his alarm for five, but his body hadn’t needed it. By four a.m. he was wired, ready for the damned sun to rise so he could begin the hard work of feeling better. He’d packed his suitcase sloppily, but he had brought one warm fleece, a pair of blue jeans, and wool socks, which he thought would work in a pinch for this hike. Besides, he’d never much minded the cold. It was the heat that bothered him, the way the sweat stuck his hair to his face. In this one way, at least, the city suited him.
Familiar fingers danced on his back.
“Morning,” Rose said, with such genuine cheer Landon momentarily forgot the storm Poppy had set off within him. He turned on his heel, hoping her face would ground rather than unsettle him.
She was dressed head to toe in outdoor apparel, the Patagonia label on her fleece lending her the look of a seasoned hiker. That was one thing his Rose had not been—at least not in theirlater years. Their time in the suburbs had changed her; made her soft. A “fair-weather hiker,” she’d called herself. Landon could still summon the feeling of being trapped in the house with her on warm autumn mornings, desperate to leave but obliged to stay.
“I was hoping I didn’t get out of bed for nothing.”
Rose smiled. “It’s never for nothing.” It was such a simple statement that Landon was embarrassed it almost brought him to his knees. But of course, Rose had taken the pill, and her mornings were filled with promise. Landon wondered what it felt like to wake each morning without the soul-crushing weight of every wrong decision, every terrible action, every horrible mistake hanging over you—then remembered that Jamie had taken the pill, too.
“I do love getting up in the morning.” The words felt as contrived as they were, but if Rose noticed, she didn’t call attention to it.
“Sometimes I can’t sleep because I just can’t wait for another day to start.” His Rose had never been charmed by the morning, nor particularly charming upon waking. The thought made him smile.
“Should we grab some waters before we head out and up?” he asked, pointing toward the sleepy grocery store. “And maybe some coffee?”
“Among other things,” Rose said, moving toward two sliding glass doors and waving Landon on behind her. “I promised you’d fall in love with this city today, so we’re going to have to pull out all the stops.”
His heart pitter-pattered. “You never mentioned anything about falling in love.”
“I didn’t?” she asked, twirling around on the slippery linoleum and flashing him a mischievous smile. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag now, I guess.”
A red shopping basket resting in the crook of her arm, Rose swept the produce aisle, testing bright yellow apples for firmness and light orange peaches for softness before tossing them in. Landon trailed behind as she selected an assortment of flaky pastries fresh out of the oven, a soft and a hard cheese, a bottle of orange juice, and, finally, a frosty bottle of champagne.
“Champagne at six in the morning?” Landon asked.
“Why not?” Rose asked. “Besides, it will be at least a respectable seven a.m. when we make it to the top.”
Landon considered what he might say if he’d woken up in the same headspace that she had. “When you’re right, you’re right.”
At the till, Landon held out a twenty-pound note but Rose brushed it away. “My treat,” she said. “We’ll need cash later, anyway.”
