Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
“I don’t see why we had to leave so early,” Chad grumbled, slumping against the passenger seat. His voice carried the sluggish weight of too many drinks, his head lolling slightly as he turned to glare at the road ahead.
Landry tightened her grip on the steering wheel, resisting the urge to sigh. The hum of the tires against the asphalt was the only sound between them for a long moment.
“It’s nearly midnight,” she reminded him, her tone carefully even. “And I told you before we left that I have to be at work by seven.”
Chad let out a heavy breath, slumping some more into the seat.
When she’d offered to be the designated driver, he’d been more than happy to take her up on it.
She wasn’t much of a drinker—one glass, maybe two, and she was done.
But Chad liked to cut loose, as he often put it.
And tonight, he’d certainly done that. His glassy eyes and the slight slur of his words told her he’d taken full advantage of the open bar.
Still, even in his inebriated state, he wasn’t too out of it to bring up a familiar argument.
“If you had an office job, you’d work during the week and have weekends off.” His voice was thick, but the words carried weight, sinking into the silence between them.
Landry forced a small, playful smile. “Maybe, but then I’d have to cram all my writing into nights and weekends. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“Damn right, I wouldn’t.” He grinned, but there was an edge to it—something almost possessive in the way his gaze lingered on her. “After we’re married, we’ll be each other’s priority. You can work on your little hobby when there’s time.”
Landry’s stomach clenched.
After we’re married.
Not if. Not someday.
But as if it were already decided, set in stone, an inevitability she had no say in.
The realization sent a sharp pulse of unease through her.
Sure, there had been hints before—offhand comments about their future, the way he assumed certain things, like where they’d live and what kind of house they’d buy. But she’d brushed them aside, telling herself not to read too much into it. Not to make something out of nothing.
Except now, there was no mistaking it.
To Chad, their future was already mapped out. And suddenly, she could see it as clearly as if it were playing out on a movie screen in front of her—a small house in GraceTown, the same familiar streets, the same predictable routines. A life of settled comfort, safe and stagnant.
It wasn’t a bad future.
But it wasn’t her future.
And that was her fault, wasn’t it? She had let it get to this point. She had smiled, nodded and gone along with it, never once making her own feelings clear.
Her hands tensed on the wheel as she pulled onto the quiet road leading to his apartment. Now wasn’t the time for this conversation. Not when he was drunk, not when the night already felt stretched thin with unspoken words.
So she changed the subject. “It was fun seeing so many people from high school tonight.”
Chad grunted, shifting in his seat. “Most of them are married now. Some even have kids.”
She could hear the meaning beneath the words. We’re falling behind.
Landry bit the inside of her cheek. “The thing about settling down so young,” she said carefully, “is that we’re still figuring things out. Who we are, what we want.”
Chad frowned, confusion flickering in his bleary eyes. “Figuring out what? What’s to figure?”
“Why settle down before…” She hesitated, trying to put words to the restlessness she’d been feeling lately, the way her dreams always seemed to stretch past the horizon of this town. “Before you’ve had a chance to see the world? To experience everything life has to offer?”
Chad let out a scoffing laugh. “Says the person who went to college in the same town she grew up in.”
Her jaw tightened. “That was for practical reasons. My mom works at Collister. I got free tuition.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned his head back against the seat, then turned to look at her again, his blue eyes sharp with something she couldn’t quite name.
“But you’ve been out of college for three years, Landry.
You always talk about seeing the world, but you never actually do it.
You spend every vacation right here in GraceTown. ”
The words hit a little too close to home, and she swallowed against the knot forming in her throat.
“I don’t have the money to travel—”
“Face it, Landry, you don’t really want to travel. You just say that. If you wanted to travel so bad, you would have by now.” His voice was flat and dismissive.
He gave a small half shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The fact that you haven’t means you know, deep down, it’s a waste of money and that there are more important things in life.”
Her stomach dropped.
She sat there, staring at him, trying to process what he’d just said.
He didn’t get it.
It wasn’t just what he’d said—it was how he’d said it. As if passion, fulfillment and creative dreams didn’t matter. Like the only thing that should matter to her was a steady paycheck and a predictable life.
“The only reason I haven’t traveled yet is because I don’t have the money right now.” Her voice was tight, controlled.
Chad exhaled sharply. “Then get a better-paying job.”
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. “I like the flexibility of my job. It lets me focus on my writing.”
Chad shook his head, his expression one of weary exasperation. “When will you figure out you can’t have it all?” His voice was quieter now, but the words cut deeper. “Be grateful for what you do have, Landry. Look around you. Everything we both want is right here in GraceTown.”
The air in the car felt suddenly stifling, the weight of his words pressing down on her chest.
She swallowed, staring straight ahead as the streetlights blurred past.
Everything we both want.
But what if she didn’t want the same things?
What if she never had?
City Hall Coffee was a madhouse. Landry and Mila had been stuck behind the bar all day, steaming milk and slinging shots, while Diane, Vern’s sister, manned the register.
Diane worked only when absolutely necessary and never touched the espresso machine. Taking orders and running the till were the limits of her involvement. But she was always game to step in when someone called out, which was exactly what had happened that morning.
It wasn’t until nearly three o’clock that the wave of customers finally receded, leaving behind a battlefield of crumpled napkins, sticky tables and disorganized chairs.
The three of them moved through the space, clearing and sweeping in a well-practiced rhythm.
“I can handle the counter for now,” Diane announced, gesturing to the empty dining area. “If I get a customer, I’ll wave you over. Go take a break—you both earned it.”
“You should take one, too,” Landry offered, but Diane was already shaking her head.
“I’m heading out after your break. You two can hold down the fort until the next crew gets here at five.” She flashed them a quick smile.
“You heard the woman.” Mila waggled her brows. “It’s break time.”
Minutes later, Italian sodas in hand, Landry and Mila took the farthest table from the counter—out of Diane’s earshot. While she was lovely to work with, she had a tendency to wedge herself into conversations without being invited.
Mila leaned in, eyes bright with curiosity. “So? How was the party?”
Landry swirled her straw through the ice, hesitating. “Do you think I’m boring?”
Mila blinked. Then, as realization dawned, a knowing gleam lit her dark eyes. “Oh no. Spill the tea.”
“It’s not that big a deal.” Landry waved a hand, but Mila crossed her arms.
“Lies. If you’re questioning your entire personality, it’s a big deal. Now start talking.”
Landry sighed. “Chad and I had our usual argument last night. The thing is… He actually made some good points.” She stared down at her drink. “Why haven’t I done anything?”
Mila groaned dramatically. “Oh, Chad.” She rolled her eyes with such force it was a miracle they stayed in her head. “All right, what did the man say this time?”
Landry opened her mouth, but Mila held up a finger. “And don’t you dare water it down. I want all the deets.”
“I’ll skip the wedding reception stuff. We’ve been to enough of those to know—same song, different verse.”
“I still love them, though.” Mila’s expression softened. “All that love and hope in the air.”
Landry frowned. “Hope?”
“For the future. The bride and groom aren’t just in love—they’re aligned. Their dreams fit together.”
“Well, Chad and I couldn’t be further apart if we tried.” Landry exhaled. “Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but still.”
“Details,” Mila prodded. “I need details.”
“It started in the car. Chad was pissed we left early, and then he started in on me.”
Landry laid it all out—the office job, how he saw her writing as a hobby, the way he spoke about their marriage as if it were inevitable.
Mila sipped her soda, then let out a low whistle. “He really was on a roll. What did you say?”
“I realized I’ve let him assume too much. I should’ve shut it down the first time he acted like our future was set in stone.” Landry rubbed her temple. “Why couldn’t he be one of those guys who’s afraid of commitment?”
Mila’s teasing smile faded. Her voice softened. “Tell me what’s really bothering you, because so far, all I’m hearing is Chad being Chad.”
Landry hesitated. “When I asked why settle down before seeing the world, he pointed out that I graduated three years ago and still haven’t gone anywhere.”
Mila winced.
“When I said I don’t have the money yet, he asked why I haven’t gotten a better-paying job.” The sting of his words still lingered. “What if he’s right? What if I am just…all talk?”