7
Vivian
The house felt different as soon as Gerald’s car rolled down the drive and out of sight. The tension that always lingered, the sense of needing to hide—suddenly, it all dissolved into the summer air. For a moment I stood in the foyer, breathless, listening to the hush, waiting for the usual ache of loneliness to settle in. But it didn’t. Because Landon was still here. And for once, we were alone.
I found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, pretending to read a magazine. The pretense was so obvious it made me smile—he was waiting for me, just as I was waiting for him.
I took a step forward, my heart pounding. “He’s really gone.”
Landon looked up, his eyes flickering from my face to my bare feet and back again. “Yeah,” he said, voice low. “Just us.”
I let the door
