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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
REBECCA
For the first threedays in Rockbridge, I mostly slept.
Slept, ate, read some of the long-neglected books I’d thrown in my bag, and slept again. I’d forgotten what it was like to get up with no plan, to sleep until I was rested, to turn off my phone and ignore the rest of the world, and not start the day with a social media scroll to “stay informed.” And after a couple of exhausting years, it was nice to simply rest.
On my fourth day there, I pulled on my gym shoes and a warm jacket and hit the trails in the woods behind the house. They twisted and turned, lapping at the base of what counted as Ohio’s section of Appalachia. Knobby trees greeted me along the well-worn paths, and leaves crunched underneath my feet as I navigated the dusty trails, each step taking me farther away from the whirlwind I’d left behind in Cincinnati. Olivia was right, nobody knew I was here. There was nobody around to interrupt the din of my thoughts, things I hadn’t been alone with in a long time. And as I walked, I felt some of the stress moving away from my body as if I was a reptile shedding an old skin.
Life was awful right now, but there would be brighter days ahead. There had to be. No matter how bad things had become in my past, I’d held on to that mantra. I’d always been a person who viewed life from an optimistic lens; that was one of the reasons I’d done so badly at theTimes. I could never square the reality of daily journalism with my natural outlook.American Profilehad been so much better; I was able to write the kind of stories I wanted, to interview the people I found interesting, and it warmed my soul in a way I didn’t anticipate.
But if that was over, I might have some other options. My mind considered it all as I hiked the hills. I doubted I wanted to write a tell-all about my time with Landon. Despite however many times we’dknowneach other, it was still just a couple days, not a few years or even months. I wasn’t his girlfriend or his fiancée, and that hardly meant I had anything worthwhile to say.
Still, I’d interviewed plenty of other people for the pages of the newsletter, and that might make for an interesting anthology. As the minutes ticked away, I considered how I’d lay it out, with chapters that needed expansion, and profiles bundled based on industries and relevance. I had at least fifteen half chapters already, and this might be a good way to bring new readers to the pieces I’d spent so much time working on over the last two years. It might be a great way to keep my career from totally dying in the wake of the scandal.
When I returned to the cottage, I felt much lighter, as if I had a plan for once and wasn’t just bumbling around in the dark, trying to get my bearings after having the wind knocked out of me. Happier, I grabbed my purse from the hook near the living room and went to the car, deciding to reward my brainstorming with a meal at the Hocking Hills Coffee and More, a spot down the winding road from the rental. I parked in the side lot and had a spring in my step as I went to the door, glad once again for Olivia’s recommendation that I come to her parents’ place to ride out the scandal. Here, nobody knew me, nobody cared, nobody...
“Hey, don’t I know you?” the cashier cocked his head as I approached the counter, his trucker hat askew, his beard scraggly across his weather-beaten face. “You’re...”
“Oh, no, I’m not from here.”
“But—”
“I promise, you don’t know me.”
He shook his head, his eyes roaming over me. “Aren’t you...wait...it’s coming to me...”
Oh no.I made apfftsound as I blew some air out of my mouth. Of all the demographics to have any interest in a gossipy scandal, a coffee-shop-trucker-hat-owning old dude was not up there. What. Were. The. Chances? I needed to start acting.Now.Rockbridge was my refuge, and I didn’t want anyone to find out I was here. It was time to give an Oscar-worthy performance.
“Aren’t you the woman who’s seeing Landon Sparks?”
I made my face a blank slate. “Who?”
“It’s been all over the news the last couple of days. He’s seeing you and...”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
He wiggled a bony finger at me. “You look like her.”
I took a wrapped oat bran muffin from the display near the register and placed it on the counter between us. I hadn’t planned on getting food, but the small act kept the rhythm of the sale flowing, allowing me to remain calm and collected as I tried to divert him away from his suspicion. “Must have a twin, then.”
He sized me up. “Must have.”
