Page 132 of All That We Are Together

She looked at the blender and blushed.

“I think I broke it.”

“Wow, a blender and a microwave, all in two weeks,” Landon said while she frowned at him. “I guess I should rethink that fourth date.”

Sarah slapped him on the arm and rolled her eyes.

“Maybe I should come back later,” I said, but she shook her head.

“I was on my way out. Especially now, since my breakfast smoothie didn’t work out too well.” Her smile had somethingharsh in it that would have been irritating in another person, but I found it tender and infectious.

“I’ll call you later,” she said. From the corner of my eye, I saw Landon say goodbye to her in the doorway, kissing her quickly on the lips.

“She seems great,” I said when he got back.

“She is,” he responded with a grin.

“You look good together. Is it serious?”

“For now, anyway. One step at a time.”

I didn’t tell him sometimes the smallest steps change everything. He already knew that. After a few seconds just looking at each other, he came over and pulled me into his chest. It was a nice hug, full of gentleness and all the good things we’d shared together. And I realized that Landon had been right during that talk we’d had on the phone when I was up on Montmartre. We’d both needed each other. Maybe I’d needed him more and he needed me a little less, but neither of us had been totally free when we were together.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

“Me too.”

“I thought about calling you tons of times.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you were the one who had to do it.”

I nodded and hugged him again.

“I want to show you something, Landon.”

I told him to grab a light jacket because it was chilly out. We left his building and walked for fifteen or twenty minutes. Landon said nothing, not even when I slid the key into the lock of my attic,my refuge where I’d hidden months ago, thinking I’d grown, not realizing I hadn’t.

“Are you sure?” He looked doubtful before he climbed the stairs.

“Yeah.” I pulled on his sleeve to encourage him.

Once we were on the top floor, I opened the door for him and encouraged him to go inside. He looked all around with interest, his eyes roving the walls before settling on my more recent pieces and the disaster on the floor where I’d dropped my palette the day before—that little shelter that was all mine.

“I’m really sorry I never let you into my world before. It was my fault. I wanted you… I just wanted it to be right.”

“Thanks for this. You didn’t have to do it.”

“That’s not true. You’re my friend; you deserved it. So pick one, the one that speaks to you most. I want you to have something of mine. A happy memory.” I stood by nervously as he decided.

He landed on one of my favorites. I liked that. Even though he couldn’t read my work as well as Axel, that didn’t mean it transmitted nothing to him.

When he was done, we spent the rest of the afternoon sitting there leaned against the wood wall with our knees pulled into our chests. Landon talked about his senior project, which he’d just turned in—I would need to start my own pretty soon. He told me about the night he’d met Sarah at a karaoke bar after a dinner with some friends at school and how funny she’d been on their first date. I confessed everything that had happened those past few months: the ups and downs, the slipups, the days I’d cried, the ones when I realized I was still in love.

“So now what?” he asked.

“I think it’s time to go back home.”