Chapter 18 #2
“Thank you for sharing that,” he said, his voice steady but warm. “Those concerns are real. They aren’t silly or stupid.”
She studied him, eyes searching. “No?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Hostels aren’t for everyone. I stayed in one once. That was enough. There are plenty of affordable hotels in Paris where you’d be much more comfortable.”
The flicker of excitement returned to her eyes.
“As for travel companions,” he continued, “there are many ways to meet people before you go. Travel forums, groups, organized tours. Or even just asking around. You’d be surprised how many people want to go but don’t think they can.”
The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “I haven’t really tried anything beyond asking friends.” She shook her head, almost laughing at herself. “And why haven’t I?”
Peter smiled. “I’d venture to say that, until recently, you never really believed you could make it happen.”
She stared at him, lips parting slightly as if she’d never considered that before. Then, slowly, she nodded.
Peter watched as Landry absorbed his words, her fingers tightening slightly around his before she slowly pulled away, resting her hand on the table. He could see in her eyes the war that waged inside her, hope and hesitation locked in a delicate battle.
“I think you might be right,” she admitted, voice softer now, as if she feared that saying it out loud would make it more real.
“For so long, traveling has felt like a dream, something I tell myself I want but never actually plan for. Maybe I was scared to plan for it. Because if I do, then it means I really have to go.”
“And that’s terrifying?” Peter prompted gently.
She let out a nervous chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“A little.” Her gaze met his, more open now, as though she’d decided to let him see the part of her that still wavered.
“It’s just that…stepping onto a plane, landing in a country where I don’t know anyone, where I don’t even speak the language fluently—it feels overwhelming. ”
Peter nodded, understanding all too well the mixture of excitement and fear that came with leaping into the unknown.
“It is overwhelming,” he agreed, “but it’s also exhilarating.
The first time I traveled alone, I was terrified.
I didn’t speak the language well either, but you learn.
You adapt. And the world feels so much bigger and smaller at the same time.
” He leaned forward slightly. “I can tell you’d love every second of it. ”
Landry bit her lip, mulling over his words.
“What if I hate it?” she finally asked.
“Then you come home, knowing you tried. But at least you won’t live with the regret of never having gone.” He paused, watching her expression shift. “Isn’t that better than always wondering?”
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
Something flickered between them, something unspoken but felt. It made the air feel heavier, more charged. For the briefest of moments, Peter had the insane urge to tell her that if she ever wanted company in France, he wouldn’t mind showing her around.
He kept that thought to himself.
Instead, he picked up his coffee, offering her a small smile. “So, when will you start planning your trip?”
Landry’s answering grin was slow but full of something different this time—determination.
“Soon.” She took a sip of her drink. “Very soon.”
Buoyed by her conversation with Peter that afternoon, Landry decided to spend Saturday night researching travel companions and inexpensive hotels.
Landry had barely taken a step toward her apartment door before the sight of Chad waiting for her stopped her in her tracks.
A wave of frustration rolled through her, immediately followed by a pang of guilt.
She wasn’t heartless. She had cared about him once—still did, in a way.
But she had finally started looking forward, and seeing him standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking freshly showered and wearing a polo shirt she’d never seen before, felt like stepping backward.
Her chest tightened as she forced a smile. “Chad.” She kept her voice even, but the tension in her body betrayed her. “What are you doing here?”
He shifted from foot to foot, his gaze flicking away before settling back on her. “Can we talk?”
There was something about the way he said it, something heavy in his voice, and for a brief moment, a part of her wanted to say no.
To tell him that talking wouldn’t change anything.
That she had spent too many nights replaying their relationship in her head, searching for what was missing, and she had already made peace with the answer.
But she also knew that Chad wasn’t the kind of guy to show up for no reason. And since he was here, since he wore the cologne she’d given him for Christmas, maybe he needed closure.
So she took a breath, swallowed down the mix of emotions stirring inside her and nodded. “Sure.”
Unlocking the door, she stepped inside, holding it open for him. “I’m going to grab a soda. Want one?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” His gaze swept over her apartment like he was seeing it for the first time. “You always keep your place so clean.”
The familiarity of the comment sent a sharp pang through her chest. How many times had he said that? It was the kind of offhand remark that used to make her smile, but now it felt like a reminder of how different they were.
She grabbed two sodas in the kitchen and handed him one before gesturing toward the couch. “Sit. I’m glad you stopped by.”
Hope flickered in his blue eyes, and Landry knew instantly that her words had given him the wrong idea.
“You are?” He sounded hesitant, but there was a thread of something deeper beneath his tone. Something that made her throat tighten.
She nodded as she took a seat—not beside him, but in the chair across from the couch. He noticed. She saw it in the way his jaw tensed, the way his fingers tightened around the soda can.
“I am,” she said softly. “Because I should have told you before… I don’t regret the time we spent together.”
His brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
She exhaled slowly, choosing her words carefully. “You’re a great guy, Chad. You’re kind, considerate. We had fun together.” She hesitated, then met his gaze head on. “But I also know that fun isn’t enough.”
His fingers flexed against the can. “If you don’t want to get engaged right now, that’s fine. I can wait. I never intended to push you.”
The hope in his voice was nearly her undoing. She forced herself to stay steady, to push past the guilt pressing against her ribs. “It’s not about the proposal. It never was.”
He shook his head, frustration flashing across his face. “Is this about the travel stuff?”
Her lips parted. He still didn’t get it. It was about so much more than travel. She wanted to ask him, Did you see me? Truly see me?
She leaned forward, voice gentle but firm. “Let me ask you something. Do you think that, in time, you’ll change your mind? That one day, you’ll wake up and want to travel the world? Or that you’ll suddenly find my dream of writing a novel exciting? Admirable, even?”
Chad opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come. He clenched his jaw, looking away. And that silence, that moment where he couldn’t make himself lie, said everything.
“You see?” Landry whispered. “It would be wrong for me to expect you to change. Just like it would be wrong for you to expect me to stay the same.”
His jaw worked, like he was trying to find the right argument, the one that would make her stay. “Maybe with time…you’ll change your mind.”
She inhaled sharply, the words hitting her like a slap. Maybe with time, you’ll be less of who you are. That’s what he was saying, even if he didn’t realize it. Deep in her bones, she knew that breaking off their relationship had been the right thing to do. She couldn’t waver now.
She thought of Kindred Spirit. Of how, in just a handful of letters, he had seen her more clearly than Chad ever had.
“You deserve a woman who loves you with her whole heart,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “You told me once that plenty of women would be happy to be with you. I believe that, too. You deserve someone who wants the same things you do. Someone who doesn’t ask you to change.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not,” she admitted. “But one day, when you meet her, you’ll look back on this time and know that ending our relationship was the right thing.”
Doubt flickered in his eyes, but she also saw something else. Understanding.
He let out a breath, then set the soda on the table and pushed himself to his feet. He stood there for a moment, looking at her as if committing this moment to memory.
“One last hug for the road?” His voice was rough, unsteady.
Landry’s throat burned as she stood and stepped into his arms. His embrace was warm, familiar. But there was no spark, no pull in her chest telling her to stay. She felt only gratitude for what they’d had and certainty that they were meant to go their separate ways.
“Have a happy life,” she whispered against his shoulder. “You deserve it.”
Chad pulled back, studying her face for a long moment. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was careful, almost reverent.
“You deserve it, too,” he said. And then, just like that, he left her alone.