Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The outdoor tables at Mama Rosa’s, overlooking the River Walk, were packed with groups laughing over drinks and couples lost in quiet conversation.
The glow from the string lights above shimmered on the water, adding to the golden haze of early evening.
Somehow, Mila had managed to secure a prime table with the perfect view.
Not only that, but she had already ordered two blood orange margaritas and a heaping platter of nachos, the kind where cheese would stretch between the chips like golden ribbons.
The server was just setting everything down as Landry strolled up, her pulse still erratic from when she’d seen her pink envelope in the historic cubbyhole.
“What’s all this?” Landry dropped into the chair, her gaze darting between the comfort food and the equally comforting margarita Mila nudged closer.
“You sounded stressed.” Mila gestured toward the nachos. “Consider this my version of an emotional intervention.”
Landry let out a short laugh—a real one—before grabbing a chip, dipping it into the thick, creamy guacamole and taking a bite.
Sharp lime and buttery avocado burst over her tongue.
She followed it with a sip of the margarita, the bittersweet citrus mixing with the burn of tequila in a way that made her shoulders drop just a little.
Then she sighed. “How did you know I was stressed? We didn’t even talk. I just sent a text.”
Mila smirked. “Sweetie, that text had SOS written all over it.”
Landry rolled her eyes, but the tension in her chest eased. She took another chip before dropping her voice. “I saw my envelope.”
Mila, in midbite, froze. She chewed slowly, then washed the nacho down with a long sip of her drink before finally setting the glass aside. Her dark eyes narrowed with interest. “All right. More info is needed. Which envelope, and where did you see it?”
“The one I placed in the letter box yesterday,” Landry said, keeping her gaze steady. “The pink one.”
Mila’s brows shot up. “Wait—did you take it out?”
“No, no.” Landry exhaled sharply, leaning forward. “I saw it when I went to hear Peter’s lecture.”
That got Mila’s full attention. She lowered the chip she had been about to pop into her mouth, her eyes flashing. “Okay, twenty questions time is over. Start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”
Landry took a quick sip of her drink, gathering her thoughts. “I went to hear Peter speak at Collister,” she began, her words picking up speed. “After the lecture, I stopped by the room that held the original cubbyholes from the old post office. They use them for employee mail now.”
Mila gave a dramatic gasp. “Oh my God. How exciting.”
Landry blinked. “What?”
“If I’d been there, I’d have rushed to see them.” Mila grinned. “Did you take pictures? Could you even get a photo, or did you have to fight off the crowds?”
Landry leaned back in her chair and quirked an eyebrow at her friend. “Do you want to hear the story or not?”
Mila laughed and feigned contriteness. “I do. I’m sorry. Please continue.”
Mollified, Landry continued. “When I looked at the cubbies, I saw that the pink envelope I placed in the letter box this morning was sitting in one of the cubbyholes.”
Mila froze, her fingers still curled around a chip loaded with cheese and beans. Slowly, she set it down. “How do you know it was yours?”
“Well, it was pink.”
Mila lifted a skeptical brow. “There are a lot of pink envelopes in the world.”
Landry hesitated. “Do you think so?”
Mila nodded. “Yep.”
Landry frowned. She hadn’t considered that.
Mila, seeing the doubt flicker across her face, ate a chip and chewed thoughtfully before continuing. “Did you see your handwriting on it?”
“I couldn’t even get near enough to see whose cubbyhole it was in.” Frustration laced Landry’s voice. “I started to step closer to get a better look, but a security guard stopped me.”
“That’s a bummer.” Mila studied her, then her expression sharpened. “You have more. Spill it.”
Landry’s fingers tightened around her glass. “Peter’s office is in that building.”
Mila’s entire demeanor shifted. Her eyes widened, her mouth parting slightly before she leaned in. “Wait. Are you saying Peter could be Kindred Spirit?”
“I don’t know,” Landry admitted, trying to tamp down the rising excitement in her chest. “But my gut is telling me that it was my letter in that cubby. Just like it told me that Kindred Spirit is a man. And now…” She exhaled shakily.
“Now, it’s telling me that Kindred Spirit and Peter are the same. ”
Mila’s hand flew to her chest, knocking her necklace sideways. “This is so completely awesome.” Her voice shook with excitement.
Landry held up a hand, trying—and failing—to keep her emotions in check. “I don’t know for sure—”
Mila grabbed her wrist. “But you’re going to find out, right?”
Landry’s heart thudded in response.
She had to.
“I am,” she said, her voice steady, determined.
Then she grinned at her friend.
“And you’re going to help me.”
After leaving Mila, Landry drove straight to the coffee shop, her fingers gripping the steering wheel. The evening air had cooled, but it did little to quiet the heat rushing through her veins. Every nerve in her body buzzed with anticipation.
She knew it was a long shot—there was almost no chance that Kindred Spirit had responded so soon. But what if he had?
What if a letter was waiting?
Now that she had an idea of who Kindred Spirit might be, this response could either confirm her suspicions or prove her wrong. She needed to know.
When she pulled into the parking lot, the shop was only dimly lit, and she could see Diane, Vern’s sister, behind the counter, closing out the register. The usual end-of-night stillness had settled over the place, chairs stacked on tables, the scent of brewed coffee still clinging to the air.
Using her key, Landry opened the locked door and stepped inside.
Diane glanced up as the bell above the door dinged. She arched a brow, then smirked. “Couldn’t stay away?”
Landry forced an easy smile, hoping her heartbeat wasn’t pounding loud enough to give her away. “You know how it is. Home away from home.”
Diane laughed, turning back to her work.
Landry stepped forward, keeping her tone light. “I think I may have left my hat under the counter earlier. Just figured I’d swing by and check.”
She gestured vaguely with one hand, deliberately casual, careful not to seem too interested in what was behind the counter.
Diane barely looked up, still counting the cash. “Yeah, sure. Feel free to look.”
But Landry didn’t move. She let her voice slip into conversational mode, tilting her head with just the right amount of interest. “Vern mentioned something about a Grand Manse event tonight?”
Diane’s attention snapped up immediately. If there was one thing Diane loved, it was gossip—and this was bait she couldn’t resist.
“Oh, you know how those things are,” Diane said, off to the races.
“It’s just a small cocktail event, mostly PR people and event organizers.
Vern wasn’t even planning to go, but they practically begged him.
President of the GraceTown Business Owners Association and all.
” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, how could he refuse?”
Landry nodded knowingly. “He couldn’t.”
Just like that, Diane was fully engaged, detailing every little tidbit about the Grand Manse, the high-profile attendees and how Vern had grumbled about going but clearly enjoyed the status it brought.
Landry kept her face neutral, nodding in all the right places, but her pulse pounded. She needed more time.
When Diane slowed, she pivoted. “It sounds amazing. The grounds there are incredible. It actually reminds me of the Summer Serenade.”
Diane brightened, launching into a new conversation about the event, the music, the twinkling lights.
And then it happened—just as Landry had hoped.
Diane gathered up the counted bills and zipped them into the deposit bag. “I just need to drop this in the safe.” She waved a hand toward the back room. “I’ll be right back.”
Landry’s breath hitched, but she kept her expression smooth. “I’ll see if I can find my hat while you do that.”
“Good luck.” Diane laughed, already heading to the back. “I’ll help you look when I get back.”
The second the door swung shut, Landry moved.
She snagged the key behind the counter, and her fingers trembled only slightly when she reached the letter box and opened it.
And there it was.
A letter.
Not just any letter—a response.
She barely breathed. For a moment, Landry could do nothing but stare at it, her mind struggling to catch up with the reality that this was actually happening.
Then footsteps sounded from the back.
Landry’s stomach plummeted.
Without thinking, she yanked the letter free, shoved it into her bag and slammed the box shut. Heart hammering, she ducked behind the counter, dropped the key back into place and grabbed a glittery pink cap out of her bag.
Just as Diane strolled back in, Landry popped up, waving the hat triumphantly.
“Look what I found!”
Diane grinned, completely oblivious. “That’s darling. Worth coming back in for.”
Landry let out a breath that wasn’t quite steady.
She nodded, hugging her bag close, where the letter burned against her side like a secret waiting to be opened.
“I agree,” she said, voice steady now. “The trip was totally worth it.”
Settling into her car, Landry reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope, her fingers tingling with anticipation. She could wait until she got home, let the moment stretch a little longer, but patience had never been her strong suit.
With a deep breath, she slid the single sheet of paper from the envelope, her pulse quickening as she unfolded it.
Dear A Heart Finally Heard,
I, too, can’t shake the feeling that we were meant to connect.
In the few letters we’ve shared, it feels as though we’ve reached a depth of understanding and honesty that I’ve rarely, if ever, experienced.
It’s a connection I deeply treasure, a gift that has brought meaning and light into my own life.
It’s an honor, truly, to share my experiences with you as you navigate this pivotal and challenging moment in your journey. Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts and your heart—it’s a privilege I don’t take lightly.
I’m sorry your relationship didn’t stand up to the scrutiny of your dreams and your truth. Still, I can’t help but feel immense pride in your courage to let go of the familiar, to step away from the comfort of what was and toward the unknown of what could be. That takes incredible strength.
From my own journey, I must gently warn you: In the days and weeks ahead, it’s not uncommon to feel the pull of doubt.
The familiar can call to us with such a persuasive voice, tempting us to question the decisions we know were right.
You may find yourself longing for the safety of what you left behind, especially when those around you struggle to understand your choice.
When I faced those moments, I reminded myself of something essential: Staying in a relationship that could never fulfill us, that asks us to compromise the core of who we are, isn’t fair—to us or to the other person.
The love we seek, the life we dream of, deserves to be built on truth and shared vision.
I know it’s not easy. It wasn’t for me either.
The voices of doubt, the arguments from others—they can be loud and unrelenting.
But your heart knows the truth. You’ve felt the relief, the freedom, the bright light that comes from choosing yourself and your dreams. Hold on to that feeling.
Let it guide you when the road feels uncertain.
Know that you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always, and I understand. Whatever lies ahead, I believe in your strength and in the beauty of the life you’re building.
With unwavering support,
Your Kindred Spirit
Landry traced her fingers over the words, her smile faltering as a wave of uncertainty settled over her. He understood. Truly, deeply understood. And yet, there was nothing in this response that tied him to Peter Elliott.
What if she was wrong? What if Kindred Spirit was someone else entirely? What if by pursuing his identity, she drove him away?
Her breath caught at the thought. Would the fragile connection they had built through words and quiet understanding crumble? Would the closeness she had come to cherish—his encouragement, his insight—shatter like glass and disappear, leaving her with only the echoes of his words?
Her heart clenched at the idea of losing him. Because right now, he was the only one who truly saw her. Who understood why she had walked away from Chad when everyone else believed she had made a mistake.
Her parents wanted her to go back, to settle, to plan a future she didn’t want. Chad would probably take her back in a heartbeat, and everything would be neat, expected. Safe.
Mila was supportive, yes, but it wasn’t the same. Landry didn’t think Mila knew what it felt like to stand at a crossroads with no map, to feel like you were fighting for a life no one else believed in.
But Kindred Spirit did.
She couldn’t risk losing that—not yet. Not until she knew, with absolute certainty, that he and Peter were one and the same. Until then, she would keep searching for answers, carefully piecing together the truth without letting the delicate thread between them unravel.