Chapter Twenty-Six
Riley
"Did you hear me? I could use your help carrying in the groceries," Anna said.
I turned around in our apartment doorway and followed her back down the stairs to the parking lot. There I waited for Anna to hand me as many bags as she could. I lugged them back up the stairs.
"Thanks, zombie version of my old friend," Anna said. She hauled the groceries into our kitchen and started unpacking.
By the third cabinet slam, I broke out of my dull, revolving thoughts. "Are you okay? Want some help?"
"There you are —I was beginning to worry." She handed me the carton of eggs. "I'm pretty sure you don't remember talking to me on campus, do you?"
"I'm sorry. I've just been really out of it lately."
She shook her head. "You haven't been 'out of it,' you've been moping, and it's getting a little ridiculous."
It was my turn to slam a cabinet door. "Well, I'm sorry if I'm not feeling all bright and cheery because I had my heart torn out."
"Really?" Anna snapped. "How do you even know if that's true if you won't talk to Landon?"
"Because then it'll be over and I'll never see him again." The words sounded as if they had come from someone else. I looked around to see who would say something that stupid.
"Oh, Riley, I'm sorry." She stood in the center of the kitchen with a grocery bag forgotten in her hands. "You really love him, don't you?"
I was too angry to shed any more tears. "I loved him, really loved him, and he was just using me."
"You need to tell him that," she said. "The part about loving him."
I slammed another cabinet door. "If I see him, I'm going to tell him how angry I am that he tried to use me to get his inheritance. Who does that to someone?"
Anna stepped back as I shoved the rest of our groceries in the tiny pantry. "Are you sure that's what he was doing? What if he loves you, too?"
Her suggestion hurt too much to think about. I couldn’t afford to think of something so tantalizing. "And now I can't tell him off because that'll be the last time I ever see him and I just don't think I can handle that yet."
Anna gathered ingredients from the mess I’d made and watched me like I was a thundercloud. "I remember when Landon cooked in this kitchen. You two hardly fit in here but it looked like a lot of fun. I've wanted to cook with someone special in here since I saw that."
"Just be smarter about who you pick," I sniffed.
"Maybe it's not Landon's choice," she said. "Maybe it's just the timing that's off. You two would be fine if all these timelines weren't in the way."
I waved away her suggestion and changed the subject. "Is there someone special you want to cook with?"
A soft blush crept over the tops of Anna's cheeks. "I don't know yet."
"You have been a lot happier lately despite all my moping around." I studied her face. "Do I know the guy?"
Anna turned to her cooking. "All I'm going to say is that a crush makes everything more fun."
"Apparently it even makes cooking more fun because this is the first I've seen you voluntarily making a meal in a long time."
"Just because I can cook doesn't mean I want to," Anna said with a laugh. "Well, except now."
I smiled. "Kudos to this mystery man for inspiring you and feeding me. Now tell me all about him."
"Hello?" Owen called as he walked through our front door. "Did I make it in time for appetizers?"
"Oh." Anna's face fell. "I forgot to buy something for an appetizer."
Owen squeezed into the kitchen and beamed. "That's all right because I brought wine and a cheese spread the guy at the store assured me paired perfectly."
"Hi, Owen," I said. "Are you here for dinner?"
Anna gave me a sharp glance. "I invited him over. It's the least I can do for him helping me change a tire."
"When did you have a flat tire?" I asked.
"This morning. I told you all about it when we ran into each other on campus." Anna shrugged and got out wine glasses. "How about we start with that wine?" She smiled at Owen.
"Work must be going well if you're springing for wine and fancy cheeses." I scooted out of the kitchen and sat on a stool next to the narrow kitchen island.
Owen nodded as he strained to uncork the bottle of wine. "We don't have to talk about my work if you want to rant or cry or whatever over the Landon situation. How's that going?"
"She's still just moping," Anna said.
"Still?" Owen handed Anna a glass of wine and then poured one for me. "Why haven't you talked to him? I know he leaves hundreds of messages for you."
"I don't want to talk to Landon. I'm afraid of what he might say." I took my wine and stared into the bottom of the glass.
Owen held up his wine. "I think we should declare this dinner a moment of truth. Wouldn't it feel good to just get everything out in the open?"
"Like what?" Anna and I were both equally horrified at what Owen might confess.
"I gotta tell you that I hate your couch," Owen said. "One of my tasks is to find secondhand furniture for some of the affordable housing apartments. You should let me look for a replacement for you."
"Lots of people love that couch." I forced myself not to say Landon's name. The image of him lounging on our sofa as the cat purred against him created an ache in my chest.
"Many people have spent the night on that sofa," Anna said.
Owen grinned at her. "Then I'll just have to try it out, won't I? Thanks for the invitation because I bought two bottles of wine, and I really want you to try the Malbec."
I cleared my throat and studied Owen. "Seems like a responsible choice. I'm impressed."
"I'm changing, Riley, and I was hoping you'd notice. I mean, I know I screwed everything up with you, and I swear I don't want to make the same mistakes twice." Owen raised his glass again and nudged Anna with his shoulder. "Here's to good friends that help each other change for the better."
"Cheers," Anna said. "Now help me figure out this chicken recipe."
It almost felt like old times as we all worked to decode the new recipe and then argued over seasonings. Owen was different, and I had to admit the change was great to see. He and Anna stumbled around and laughed in the small kitchen while I helped with prep from the other side of the counter. We ate standing up at the kitchen island and declared it was one of our best meals yet.
After we finished, I left Anna and Owen to start the dishes so I could check my phone messages. There was another voicemail from Landon, but I couldn't bear to hear his voice. No matter what he said, it felt like nothing could work out between us, and I wasn't ready to hear the final call yet.
I stared at my phone for almost a full minute before deciding if anything was said, it was going to need to be face to face. And god knew I wasn't sure I could ever face him again. I deleted the message and turned back to our tiny kitchen.
"All right, it's your turn to relax, master chef," I told Anna. I shooed her toward our saggy sofa. "Go put your feet up and let me finish the dishes. It's the least I can do to make up for all my moping."
I scrubbed the greasy frying pan with a vengeance while Owen went to put Anna's favorite album on. He poured another large glass of the Malbec and took it to her. She swatted him away as he propped a pillow under her feet and pretended to fan her with a sprig of rosemary.
"Where has this Owen been?" I asked when he returned to the kitchen to help me dry the dishes.
"I don't know, but I think I like him," Owen said.
"Me too," Anna called from the living room. "Though I might be a little tipsy."
Owen grinned at her and then asked me, "Would it have made a difference? If you knew this Owen back in New York, would you have still come out here and moved on with your life?"
I would never have broken down on Highway 1 and accidentally discovered The Sand Dollar. I wouldn't have gone to the most opulent gala in a gold dress. I would have never met Landon Michel.
"I don't think so," I told Owen. "I didn't make you this happy, and I think things have worked out for the better."
"For both of us?" Owen asked. "No matter what happened between us, I can't stand seeing you this way."
I sighed. "My situation can't really be described as 'better' anymore, can it?"
"You were really happy for a while and we all noticed.” He leaned back against the counter and cleared his throat. “Now it’s time for real talk. To me, it doesn't seem like something that fantastic can just dry up overnight. Can it?"
"I don't know what you want me to say." I tossed down the damp dishtowel and picked up my wine.
He topped off my glass. "He's miserable, you know."
I retreated to the living room and joined Anna on the sofa.
Owen followed me and wouldn't give up. "Landon's at the office all the time, and I'm not sure if he actually goes home. He's been working like a dog and apparently making some great changes around the office, but everyone hates to see him there. He's kind of a mess, Riley."
I squirmed and almost spilled my wine. "What about Lyla? Isn't she overjoyed that Landon is finally settling down and focusing on work?"
"Lyla. Man, that is one unhappy woman. You know the only time I think I've seen her smile in months is when Landon's old friend stopped by."
"Andrew?" I asked. It was hard not to jump right to happy memories of The Sand Dollar and Landon's best friend.
Owen nodded. "He came by and dragged Landon out of the office. I was there picking up some keys and it looked like some sort of intervention."
My heart hammered as I wondered what advice Andrew was giving Landon. A wild flame of hope flickered in my mind as I imagined Andrew setting Landon straight. Would he tell him I was worth waiting for?
Owen sat down on the arm of the sofa by Anna. "Riley, you have to talk to him. You can't go on like this and neither can he. Plus, you owe it to yourself to clear the air, get a clean break, or get over this misunderstanding."
"Those are three very different things," Anna pointed out.
Owen shrugged. "I'm new at being Riley's girlfriend. Give me a break."
Anna giggled and elbowed him. "For what it's worth, Riley, I agree with Owen. If you really think Landon was using you, then you need to call him out on it. Otherwise, you should hear what he has to say. You never know, maybe he'll surprise you."
Owen held out a hand and hauled me to my feet. "At least sleep on it." He led me to my bedroom, flicked on my favorite lamp, and turned down the covers on my bed. "Maybe things will look better in the morning."
He kissed my cheek and headed back to sleep on our saggy sofa.