“Heidi,” I groaned. “Please.”
She sighed heavily into the phone and left me waiting and wondering. “Fine. Brunch. Half hour enough time?”
“Yes, that’s plenty of time. Thank you. Café J?”
“All right. I’ll see you there, Landon.”
I hung up the phone with a sigh. I could make this right. I hadn’t done anything unforgivable. Heidi would come around. I might be in the process of leaving Miranda, but I didn’t want to lose ever having a chance with Heidi.
The next twenty minutes, I showered off the alcohol still oozing from my pores, shaved, and changed into navy chinos and a polo. I still had plenty of time to get to Café J, which was one of my favorite restaurants in town. I grabbed my phone, and it started ringing.
Jensen.
I rolled my eyes. At least it wasn’t Miranda.
“Hey, bro,” I said when I answered the phone. I busied myself around the room, stuffing my wallet into my pocket and throwing on my large-faced watch.
“Landon, I hate to call you so early in the afternoon, considering your condition last night,” Jensen said.
He was all business. It was the tone of his voice that finally stilled me.
“Yeah. Last night was rough. What’s up?”
“Miranda just showed up at my door, demanding to see you.”
“She did what?” I cried.
“I guess she took the early flight out of Tampa this morning and just got into town. She came straight here, thinking that you would be here.”
“Did you tell her I was at Austin’s?”
Jensen sighed. “Of course I did. She’s your wife.”
“Fuck, Jensen.”
“Handle your shit, Landon, or let me help. Otherwise, you’re going to keep ending up right back at this same place.”
I cursed Jensen under my breath. He was right, which was why I hated him more for saying it. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
My mind was reeling as I hung up. I should have known that Miranda would follow me. What had I expected from her? She had done crazier things in the last couple of years than hop on a plane to see me in Lubbock. And, with the way I had left things, I should have anticipated this. But I’d been so pissed that I wasn’t thinking straight, which was becoming more apparent as the day went on.
I rushed out to the living room. Austin was lounging back with his Bloody Mary, texting.
“Miranda is on her way,” I told him. I could hear the panic in my voice.
Austin turned his head to look at me and grimaced. “That’s bad, right?”
“Probably. I have to make a phone call. Will you answer the door if she shows up?”
“Well, I was going to see if you wanted to get lunch with me and Patrick, but that sounds out of the question.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be able to hang with you guys now.” Not that I’d planned to for lunch anyway. “Can you answer? I have to make a call before she gets here.”
“I’ll run interference,” Austin agreed, waving me away.
I dialed Heidi’s number as I dashed back into my room.
I was going to be late. Definitely late. Fuck, I might have to cancel.
No, that wasn’t an option. I had to talk to her. I had to apologize for last night and explain what was going on. If she knew the truth, then she would understand where I was coming from.
After a few rings, the line cut to her voice mail. I hung up and blew out a harsh breath as I dialed her number again.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I breathed over and over as the phone rang.
She must be in the car or something because it went to voice mail again. I swore loudly and was about to dial her number again when I heard the doorbell.
“Fuck,” I cried.
I pocketed my phone and exited the room. Austin had already set down his Bloody Mary and swaggered over to the front door. He shot me a curious look over his shoulder before opening the door.
“Miranda,” Austin said, as if he were surprised. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Where’s Landon?” she cut in, skipping all pleasantries.
“He’s a bit hungover, but he’s here.”
Miranda elbowed past him to get inside.
He blew out a breath. “Come on in.”
Miranda’s eyes found me across the room, and I saw the determination in her gaze. She was a woman on a mission. She had clearly thought of nothing else but getting to me since I left. But she still managed to look perfect. Her long bleach-blonde bob was straight and pristine. Her makeup was flawless with cherry-red lipstick. Even her outfit—a white knee-length skirt paired with a hot-pink silk blouse—was pressed and perfect. If I hadn’t known her, I never would have guessed that this was a woman who had been falling apart.
“Landon!” she said, rushing over to me. She threw her arms around my neck and pressed her body against mine. “I’ve been so worried.”
I patted her back. My eyes found Austin’s across the room. His expression was pinched. He still thought that I’d slept with Heidi last night. He must be thinking horrible things about me. Either that or he truly despised Miranda as much as everyone else and had hoped this wouldn’t happen.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked. I held her at arm’s length.
“What am I doing here?” she asked in disbelief. “After you walked out of the house without me, what did you expect me to do?”
“Stay home in Tampa.”
Her eyes widened. “I could never do that, Landon. You had to know I could never watch you walk away and be okay with it. I was devastated. I had to follow you. I had to make this right.”
Austin cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m going to…head out and get some lunch with Patrick. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Austin,” I said with a sigh. I waved at him as he practically bolted out of the house to avoid the conversation that I so desperately wished to back out of.
As soon as Austin shut the door, Miranda reached for my hands. “I’m so, so sorry, Landon. I am. Truly. You have to know how sorry I am about all of this.”
I pulled my hands back from her. “I don’t actually. You seemed like you meant what you said.”
“You know I didn’t. I was frustrated and worried about you when you heard me on the phone with Janice. It’s not every day that we have to face the news from your doctor that you might never be able to play golf again.”
The breath left my lungs in a whoosh, and I took a step back. Even hearing those words out of her mouth made my stomach clench and my body seize. I’d tried not to think those exact words. I’d tried to block out the doctor telling me that I’d reinjured my back in the same spot as before. I’d tried to forget him telling me that, if I didn’t stop, if I didn’t take time off to heal, I would never golf again. And, even then, there were no guarantees.