Unforgiven(72)

“Good. So this is a good segue into something else I wanted to talk to you about.” I set my fork down and look between the two of them.
“I don’t have any immediate plans for work. I have to talk to Jack, but I’m pretty sure I ruined my broadcasting career when I broke the contract in Phoenix. I’m a liability at this point, and everyone talks. No one is going to want to hire me back in the business. So while I figure out what I’m going to do with my life, I was thinking of taking some time off to just help you with wedding plans, travel a little bit, and just figure things out.”
“I think that sounds like a really sensible idea,” Reagan says. “Take your time easing back into life, Lindsay. You always worked too hard. If we’re being honest with each other, I was really nervous you were going to dive right back into work and I was worried about the pressure of the business and how it would affect you.”
I nod my head. Reagan is right. I worked too much and placed too much value on my career and not enough importance on the things that really did matter to me.
“That’s a valid concern.” I smile at her. “And I know you said I could stay here as long as I like, but my goal is to be out by the time you get back from your honeymoon.”
Landon looks to Reagan, then back to me. “Reagan and I already discussed this, Lindsay. There is no need to rush out of here. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you want.”
“Well, if I can’t find a job, you may have to hire me to be your nanny,” I tease.
We spend the next hour enjoying dinner and just catching up. It feels so good to laugh and be happy again. I help Reagan clean up after dinner, washing and drying the dishes before calling it an early night. I’m tired and ready for a little quiet time. In rehab, I learned to appreciate some alone time, time to think, time to plan, time to journal—time to focus on myself.
I shower and change into a pair of silk pajamas, leaving my long hair wet and loose. I stand in front of the giant bookshelf in my bedroom and pull down one of Samantha’s books. I lose myself in the romance novel for the next three hours and love every minute of it. I soak up the words that leap from the pages and let myself feel the emotions of the journey happening in front of me. I can understand now why Samantha loved reading and I can’t wait to delve into the rest of the books she left me—a gift she didn’t realize I’d love so much.
Crawling into bed, I lie on my side and look at the muted moonlight that peeks through the slats on the wood shutters and whisper long, overdue prayers for all the blessings I have and for new beginnings. Every night, when I close my eyes, I relive the pain I’ve caused and the people I’ve hurt. I know the sins I’ve committed against the person I love the most are unforgiven, and that’s my cross to bear.




 
 
I’m in a daze as I watch the baggage carousel spin in circles as I wait for my suitcase. The flights back to the U.S. were long and, after spending a month in Europe, I am glad to be home.
“Hey, brother,” Landon says from behind me. He shakes my hand and fist bumps me when I turn around to greet him. “Good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back,” I admit. While traveling alone was an adventure and I got to see everything I wanted to, there were definitely times it was lonely. Everywhere I went, I imagined Lindsay with me, loving the architecture, the wine, the culture.
“You’re looking a little like Grizzly Adams. Do they not sell razors in Europe?” Landon jokes about the beard I’ve let grow out while away. I laugh and shake my head. “I hardly recognize you.”
“Decided to do something different,” I tell him.
“I’m just giving you a hard time.” He smacks my shoulder. “How many bags are we waiting on?”
“Just one. That one, right there,” I say just as the large, black suitcase comes into sight. I lean over and pull it from the metal carousel. Landon grabs my backpack and we walk toward the elevators to the parking garage.
“So how was Europe?”
“Good, but exhausting,” I admit. “I’m glad I went, though. Had a lot of time to think and just kind of sort out my life, you know?” Landon nods his head as we load my bags into the back of Reagan’s SUV. “How’ve you been, man?”
“Great, actually. Work has been crazy. We finally busted the kid over at the high school that’s been dealing the heroin…”
“Oh yeah? Good to hear.”
“It’s been a busy couple of weeks. Lindsay’s finally home.” He drops that in nonchalantly.