Chapter Nine #3
“So interesting,” Rose said, swirling a corner of the scone in her espresso. “Did he tell you much about the breakup?”
“That she was perfect, and if they had to assign blame, it would fall squarely on him.” That might have been too much, even for Landon.
“My other barely said anything at all.” As he had in the life drawing class, Landon tried to school his features.
He did not want to come across as anything other than mildly interested.
“But she seemed very protective, other Rose. She said she didn’t want to be here anymore. I think she wanted to kill herself.”
Rose may as well have pulled the pin on a grenade under their table.
“That’s not politically correct, though, is it,” she said.
“It’s ‘die by suicide.’” Swallowing was the only thing Landon seemed capable of, and that was only because it was more or less automatic.
“Anyway, I couldn’t believe she didn’t say why.
She told me she had a friend named Poppy who would help me start over, and that she didn’t care what I did next so long as I was happy.
But I take it very seriously that other Rose wouldn’t give me any details beyond those basics.
” Rose leaned in close. “That’s why I moved here. ”
And that’s why you tossed my letter in the trash without opening it, Landon thought. Could he speak? He was going to have to try. “That’s really heavy,” he finally managed.
“I know. It’s just so weird to know that there was a version of me walking around that miserable when I’m so happy. It doesn’t seem possible.”
“She really didn’t give you any details?”
“Nope,” Rose said. “And I’m grateful. I want nothing to do with a life that made my other not want to be here.
” Landon looked down at his mud-stained sneakers.
He’d known that Rose had been in a bad way—they both had.
If it weren’t for Poppy and Conor, neither of them would have eaten a thing.
He’d assumed it was all part and parcel, par for the course when two people had been through what they had.
He’d thought that they’d been in it together, even if they’d been going through it alone.
“God, I could really just talk about this stuff forever, you know?”
“Forever,” Landon said. “I agree.”
Enormous arms snaked around Rose with such speed that Landon leaped to his feet, ready to defend her against a presumed attacker.
“Jesus, Graham!” Rose waited long enough before swirling in the man’s arms for Landon to see her beatific smile, as though he were the sun and she a planet caught in his orbit. “I thought we were meeting at five!”
Landon clenched his jaw. Graham may as well have been the sun.
Graham looked like he’d just wandered off a movie set where he got paid the big bucks to play the role of Guy Who Gets the Girl.
His hair was dark brown with subtle streaks of red, his beard so thick and even it could have been painted on.
Enormous legs complemented his enormous arms and were in perfect proportion to his enormous torso (which Landon was decently sure sported enormous raised abs like ski moguls).
“It’s five, love,” Graham said. “Wee bit past, even.” A Scot, too. Landon wondered whether new Rose had the same proclivity for a Scottish accent as his Rose. Seemed the answer was yes.
“Graham, this is Jamie,” she said, still clutching his arms tightly. Graham extracted one and held it out to Landon.
“Nice to meet ye,” he said. “She picked you up after class, then, did she?”
This was his penance, he supposed. Rose hadn’t pegged him as the creep who wanted to spend more time with the nude model, but her boyfriend had. “Oh, we were just—”
“Can’t tell you how many times this has happened. You’ll have taken the pill then, yeah?” Graham’s smile was so warm that Landon felt sure even he could fall for him, given the time.
“Yep,” Landon said. Dig, dig, dig. “Not long ago. I must have just been an obvious mark.”
Rose swiveled in Graham’s arms. “We should invite him, right?” Landon didn’t need to know where to know that if Rose would be there with Graham, it was an invitation he wanted to decline.
Graham’s tone was that of a father placating an overly exuberant child. That alone should have made it off-putting, but somehow it worked for him. “Sure, love,” he said. “Whatever you want.”
Rose turned back to Landon and grabbed the last hunk of blueberry muffin, top thick with sugar crystals.
“We’ve got a group going, for pill takers.
It’s mostly transplants and students and some locals like Graham.
It can be hard when most people in your daily life don’t share the same outlook on the world that you do.
And it’s just full of wonderful people. If I hadn’t been pulled in when I moved here, we never would have met. ”
“Now don’t ye say ‘never.’” Graham placed the most perfect kiss on the crown of Rose’s head. “Soulmates have a way of finding each other.”
Landon was going to be sick. He was going to puke sugar and cranberry all over the tile.
What did Graham know about soulmates? It was a statement any rational person in Landon’s position would have ignored, but if the opportunity presented itself to put his foot in his mouth, Landon usually took it.
“So you believe there’s just one person for everybody? ”
“I do,” Graham said, with the confidence of a man who had the most incredible woman in the world on his arm. It made Landon want to get under his skin.
“But you led an entire life before Rose. How can you be sure your other didn’t have a soulmate, too?”
“For all I know, my other led a lonely, celibate life,” Graham said.
Landon scoffed. “I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous.” The have you seen yourself in a mirror? was implied.
“And besides,” Graham said, “my other isn’t me.”
Landon’s shock must have been evident, because Rose jumped in quickly.
“That’s a controversial opinion, but one a lot of pill takers I’ve talked to tend to agree with.
There is an argument to be made that taking the pill is a form of rebirth.
If we don’t remember the people our other cared about, the work they did, the pleasure they took, or the decisions they made, how can we say we are them? ”
To the happy couple, this was an interesting intellectual exercise, probing such impossible questions as What does it mean to be human?
while still safely in a state of medicated bliss.
To Landon, this was an unraveling of the highest order.
He’d known, of course, that new Rose was not his Rose, but she was still Rose.
The thought had kept him afloat countless times when he would have otherwise drowned.
Being near her had only made him more sure, not less.
Her hair had the same frizzy shine, laugh lines revealed themselves in the same places they’d always been, and when she floated her eyebrows, they still curved like two caterpillars arching their bodies.
But beyond the physical markers, there was something ineffable about her that pulled Landon fourteen years into the past like a time traveler; something about her spark or her spirit no drug could ever dim.
He’d painted her essence. She’d said it herself. “When’s the group?” he asked.
“Oh, good!” Rose clapped her hands. “It’s tomorrow night. And it’s Graham’s turn to host, so you’re in for a treat. He is the most incredible cook.”
Of course he was. But Landon would not be walking into the lion’s den alone. If Landon was going to eat gorgeous Graham’s delicious food, he would have the support of his very new, very bald, friend. “Okay if I bring someone?”
“Bring anyone you like,” Graham said, gathering Rose in his arms like the most precious of parcels. “Long as they’ve taken the pill, of course.”
“Of course,” Landon said. “They wouldn’t understand, otherwise.”