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Unforgiven(59)

By:Rebecca Shea

“Lindsay,” she says with a giant smile and open arms. I leave my bag on the curb as I meet her with a giant hug. The automatic glass doors slide open and Landon exits with my suitcase and his bag. Reagan releases me and jogs over to him. Landon pulls her into a giant hug and kisses her for longer than is really necessary in public. I roll my eyes and laugh. I realize it’s the first time I’ve laughed in weeks—a real genuine laugh and it feels good.
Landon loads the luggage and I climb into the back seat of the SUV. The ride to Landon and Reagan’s house is quiet. We pull into the large, paved driveway and Reagan kills the engine. An enormous set of concrete steps lead up to the front door of their new house.
“I’ve got the guest room on the main floor all set up for you,” she says, looking over her shoulder.
“Thanks,” I respond.
“Go get some rest. We’ll get your bags. You’ve been flying all night. We’ll catch up this afternoon.” I smile at her and step out of the car. I count each of the twelve steps up to their large front door as I ascend them and am winded from just that small flight of stairs. Landon holds the door open and I step into their beautiful home. It’s modern, yet comfortable.
“Down here.” Landon gestures down the long hallway just inside their front door. “Last door on the left. There is a bathroom in your room. I’ll set your bags outside the door.”
I nod my head and kick off my shoes, letting my bare feet pad down the wooden hallway floor. I slow to look at the pictures Reagan has hung in the hallway, and immediately, my heart races when I see a picture of the four us—Landon, Reagan, Matt and me—at Landon and Reagan’s engagement party. Landon is on the end with Reagan next to him. I’m next to Reagan and Matt is on the other end. My head is tipped back and I’m laughing at something. Always laughing, I think to myself. I want to be that girl again. Matt’s head is turned and he’s looking at me with a huge smile on his face. Exactly how I remember him. I smile at the memory of us four, and tear up, knowing it will never be like that again.
“You okay?” Landon asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yeah, I will be.” I smile and bat away the tears from under my eyes.
“Lan?” I say, turning around to look at him. “Thank you for coming to Phoenix and bringing me home.”
“You’re welcome,” he whispers. I disappear into the bedroom and immediately jump into bed.
Sleep came immediately. I didn’t dream, I slept—hard. I wake up slowly to sweat rolling down my temples. With a shaky hand, I reach up and feel the trickle of sweat as it travels around the bandage on my forehead and into my hair. I sit up slowly to get my bearings. Sliding off the bed, I bury my toes in the thick carpeting of the bedroom floor. I walk carefully, noticing my dizziness, to the attached bathroom.
I stand in front of the mirror and gently pull away the bandage from my forehead. There are approximately eight small stitches that stretch across the giant lump where my forehead met the bedside table in my bedroom. The skin is various shades of purple and pink, and I pull my long hair back behind my head and twist it around itself into a makeshift bun so I can rinse my face. My fingers tremor as I pull the water from the faucet toward my face carefully. Most of the water spills back into the sink, and I repeat the process four or five times—enough times to get some water all over my face. I pull the hand towel from the towel rack and pat my face dry.
I finally take in the bedroom that Reagan and Landon are letting me stay in while I figure out what I’m doing after rehab and where my life will take me. The room is cozy and comfortable and perfect for me. My favorite item is the large chaise lounge in the corner with a light that hangs over it. A perfect place to read, I think to myself. I pull my suitcases into the room and set aside some clean clothes to change into, placing the remaining clothes in the dresser. I slip into a navy blue sundress that used to fit, but now hangs awkwardly large on my body.
I find Landon and Reagan sitting at the small table in the breakfast nook, talking over glasses of iced tea. Reagan smiles when she sees me. “Feel better?” she asks.
“I do. I slept so well. What time is it anyway?”
“After four in the afternoon. You slept all day.”
“Guess I needed the rest,” I say with a shrug.
“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Reagan asks, standing up from the small table.
“Iced tea sounds great; I’m not sure about food,” I say, scrunching my nose. I don’t even know what to ask for to eat. Nothing sounds appetizing, but I know I need to begin eating small amounts of food. I sit down in the chair next to Landon and notice him staring out the window into the backyard. The late afternoon sun is beginning its descent in the sky.#p#分页标题#e#