Page 68 of Out of Place

She rolls off and snuggles against my side. I hold her as close as I can until we both fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, we naturally wake up early because when you spend enough time getting up at four a.m. every day, your body gets used to it. It’s a blessing and a curse.

I offer to make breakfast, and Olivia accepts. She pulls the T-shirt I was wearing yesterday over her head before we walk to the kitchen. Her in my shirt might be my new favorite thing. Too bad this is the last time I’ll ever see her like this.

I make pancakes and bacon, and we drink our coffee while everything cooks. There’s a quiet tension between us this morning. Obviously, I’ve been through breakups before, but never where neither one of us actually wants to break up.

After breakfast, she changes back into her clothes from yesterday but asks to keep my shirt.

“Sure, but I can get you a clean one, sweetheart,” I offer, heading to my dresser.

She shakes her head. “No. I want this one. It smells like you.”

I pull her into another hug. “I love you, Olivia.”

“I love you too, Landon.”

I drive us back to Underwood Farms. It’s strange to think that she won't be here when I come to work tomorrow.

“This was fun, right?” she asks once I’ve parked in front of the house, staring straight ahead.

I squeeze her hand in mine. “So much fun.”

“Should we stay friends?” she asks hesitantly.

I smile at her. “We should definitely stay friends.” Although staying friends with the woman I’m in love with when I know I can’t be with her sounds like absolute torture. But if Olivia wants to be friends, then I’ll do it.

“Thank you for the ride,” she says.

“Have a safe flight, Olivia.”

And with that, I watch the love of my life walk into the house and out of my life.

CHAPTER 27

Olivia

The chill in the air hits me when I step out of the car in front of our New York penthouse. It’s early October, and the leaves have started to change to vibrant shades of yellows, reds, and oranges. It’s beautiful, but not sunsets-on-the-farm beautiful.

The doorman gets my bags out of the car and into the building. My mother went straight to their house in the suburbs instead of coming to the penthouse with me. I told her I wanted to get settled back in. The plane ride here—on our private jet this time—was quiet. All I could think about was how I was leaving my heart with Landon James Bowen on a farm in southern Georgia. I didn’t want to talk about it, and I think Mom knew that.

I need time.

Alone.

Which is not something I’ve ever thought I’d need.

As soon as I’m inside, I text Landon that I’m home, and he replies with a red heart emoji. I want so badly to call him. I want to hear about his day. I want him to tell me what’s happening on the farm. I decide not to because if I hear his voice, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back the tears.

I slowly unpack my things since I have nothing else to do today. My credit cards are activated again, so I can order food from one of my favorite Thai places, although I don’t have much of an appetite. I end up lying in bed in Landon’s T-shirt, watching a show about a chef who takes over his brother’s restaurant. Everyone just screams at each other all day, every day. For some odd reason, it relaxes me, even though I don’t think that’s the purpose of the show. I have no idea why it popped up on the suggestions page of my streaming service, but I can’t stop watching it. It makes me miss working.

Maybe I should get a job. . .

No. What am I thinking? I’m just emotional. I don’t actually want a job. That’s insane and so not me.

* * *