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The same way I’d been trying not to care about Ava. I swallow. “I know how the kiss with Jack would have seemed to you, but it wasn’t what it looked like.”
He lets go of my hand as I get to my feet. His body is hunched over, and I want to reach for him, to hold him maybe, to recapture the feeling of closeness we had a few hours ago.
But I don’t. I leave him sitting there and go to the bathroom to take a shower.
AFTERWARD, we eat in silence. I’ve showered and changed into casual pants and a top. He has also changed into a black long-sleeved tee and light gray pants. It’s testament to how sad I am that I can’t even concentrate on how devastatingly appealing he looks.
We really have nothing to build a relationship on. I see that now. Just sex, and the things we keep from each other. What kind of relationship can we have if we don’t trust each other? If the moments of happiness and intimacy are so soon followed by accusations and pain.
Landon’s brow is furrowed. He looks as troubled as I’m feeling. Our eyes meet, and the helpless somberness in his makes me want to cry. “The gala starts at eight,” he tells me, his voice low.
“I know,” I reply, my own voice small.
“Claude will provide anything you need. Hair, makeup, whatever. He’s already been instructed.”
I don’t reply.
I can feel his eyes on my face. “Aidan will be here. He’s landing in the evening.”
That brings a small smile to my lips. “I’d like to see him,” I say. “What about Jules and Cameron?” I’d enjoyed the company of his friend Cameron McDaniel, and his heavily pregnant wife during my last visit. “Will they come?”
He smiles. “They can’t make it. Jules is expecting any minute.”
I chuckle. “Of course.”
The small talk dries out after that, and after we eat, Landon leaves the suite, going back downstairs to conclude preparations for tonight.
If trying to act like everything was okay had been a drain, being alone is worse.
Are you happy?Jack’s voice whispers in my head.
I am not. The weight of all my chaotic emotions from the past few weeks feels so heavy now. How could I have thought I could bear it? I feel like I’m breaking into pieces, unsure where the real source of my pain is.
He’ll never love me.
One day, when he finds out how I really feel about him, he’ll recoil from the idea of returning my love, and he’ll walk away.
My insecurities about our relationship will continue to eat me alive until that day comes.
No, I’m not happy.
The thoughts chase through my mind until I want to scream.
How did we end up here? Neither of us really knew what it really meant, this ‘relationship’ we’d agreed to have. We hadn’t defined anything, no boundaries, no feelings, just sex, jealousy, and allusions, but never the truth.
I should have told you about Ava, he’d said. Told me what exactly? Only that they used to be lovers? He hadn’t bothered to explain why he was suddenly spending so much time with her. Had last night’s picture also been a work meeting? It’s no use wondering, and I know I won’t ask him now, what would be the point?
My phone is on the couch beside me, and almost as if I have a masochistic desire to punish myself, I go back to the article from last night, to look at the picture of Landon and Ava.
Sources say they have a passionate history, I read again, wondering what exactly happened between them. I just want to know for sure, I tell myself, as I type in a search term with both their names.
The results are few and span a period of years. A small soundbite about a house party in the Hamptons from about seven years ago, where they are referred to as ‘scions of hotel dynasties’ and described as an item. Then there’s a report from a year later, about her marriage to an Italian race car driver from an immensely wealthy family.
A gossip item puts them together again about three years later, they’re sailing in Europe after her divorce. A follow-up article claims that she has broken his heart and is dating a tech billionaire, then in another one dated soon after, they’re together again, having dinner in New York.
It goes on like that, and I start to wonder if I’m just another temporary separation, like her marriages. The thought is heartbreaking. I close my browser set the phone on the table, then close my eyes, covering my face with my hands.
I’m not going to think about Ava, I decide. She’s not even the problem. Even if she hadn’t appeared, Landon and I would still have arrived here, at this point, where the only sensible thing was to accept that we just weren’t working.
