I push up from the stool across from him and slip my bag over my shoulder. I need space to clear my head and prepare myself, to steel my heart for whatever I’m walking into. To remind myself that no matter what this is, I willnotfall for him again.
“No.” The word snaps out of him, edged with a panic he doesn’t even bother to hide as he straightens.
My brows draw together. “No?”
“I mean…” His voice softens, but there’s something in it that makes it obvious he’s not comfortable with me leaving. God, Anna, get a hold of yourself. Don’t read too much between the lines.
“I’ll take care of it. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll bring it here,” he adds.
“Landon, that’s not necessary. I can drive and bring them myself.”
His jaw works, a muscle flexing as though he’s trying to bite back his emotions. “It’s almost seven, Anna, and I only have until morning. I don’t want to waste a single second of it on you traveling.”
His words hit me harder than I’m ready for, making it impossible to answer right away. And I hate that a part of me still responds to the way his voice slips under my skin and coils in my chest.
I take a moment before I can trust myself to speak.
Finally, summoning every ounce of courage, I nod, because anything more might give him the wrong idea.
He exhales in relief. “Thank you.”
“Landon,” I say, my voice quieter now, though still guarded.
“God, hearing my name from your lips… it’s been far too long. I’ve missed that. Missed you.”
I shake my head, ignoring his words. “Listen, I don’t even know why I agreed to this. But I hope you understand that whatever this is, it’s not…” My words falter. “I don’t think things will get better between us. And if you’re hoping this is some kind of second chance, then it’s not. We’re just going to talk and get closure. Nothing more.”
His mouth curves into something that’s not quite a smile, but it’s not defeat either. “I’ll take whatever you’re giving.”
I nod and give him a tight smile, keeping my emotions in check.
“Now, if that’s all, may I order in food?” he asks, not pushing any further.
I nod again, and he leans back against the counter, already scrolling through his phone. Meanwhile, I stand there and let my eyes wander over the kitchen. Suddenly, my breath catches.
It’s exactly the kitchen I once told him I wanted for us. Rich brown cabinets with the same white-marble counters veined with soft gray. Warm pendant lights cast a golden glow over a farmhouse sink while a sleek stainless-steel stove gleams against the tiled backsplash. He remembered every detail, and that thought hits low in my stomach.
I settle back onto the stool and watch him speak on the phone. The man I dated, and even went so far as to marry, remains a puzzle I still can’t figure out. The way he’s designed this house tells me he hasn’t forgotten a thing, and yet he was the one who signed the divorce papers.
A bitter ache twists in my chest. He really does know how to drive me insane.
One moment, he walks away without a second thought, and the next, he’s standing here with that familiar intensity that makes my pulse race.
Does he really enjoy playing with my emotions like this?
Does he not feel an ounce of guilt for how this twists me up inside?
“Stop staring at me like that,” he says without looking up. I blink, caught off guard at being called out, but I lift my chin, refusing to let him have the upper hand.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to figure me out.”
God, the asshole still knows how to read my thoughts.
I let out a humorless laugh. “That would be a waste of time.”
He finally looks up, a slow smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I’m worth it.”
