Page 122 of This Side of Beautiful

“Okay, I’ll leave it alone. Hollow Bones is something you have to work through.” Turning to straddle him, I asked, “What about you and the Grammy show in November?”

Landon tightened his grip on me. “I need you to hear me and not take it personally or as a rejection, because I love you, and I’ll never love a woman the way I love you.”

My stomach dropped. “Speaking like that doesn’t help.”

His sigh held all the heartbreak I felt coming. What I thought I’d staved off during the weeks we’d been here.

“I think we need to see if we really want to be together through it all. I can deal with all you bring to the table except the drug use. You used drugs while taking your meds. That fact concerns me, Janae. You could’ve killed yourself mixing drugs like that.”

“Well, I didn’t, and I won’t do it again. I knew on that stage it was the last time, and I know even more after being here in Austin with you. I needed to reset and regain perspective.”

Landon stared past the trees, his body rigid, his silence thick with words he would not say. The longer he avoided looking at me, the harder my heart pounded, each second stretching unbearably. My stomach coiled tight, bracing for the inevitable. I slid off his lap, sitting beside him on the sofa, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

“Just say it,” I murmured, my voice steadier than I felt. “Stop dragging it out. Stop pretending there is another ending to this.”

His eyes closed, and for a moment, I thought he would not answer. Then, slowly, tears slipped from beneath his lashes, carving paths down his face.

“Remember that night at House of Blues?” His voice was raw, barely above a whisper. “When I asked you to wear that flower?”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “You said you wanted me to wear it so you would know that, for one night, I wanted you too.”

His lips parted, but he hesitated, like he was forcing himself to say something he did not want to. Finally, he exhaled sharply. “You are a bright star, Janae. And I never want to be the shadow that dims your light.” His gaze found mine, filled with something deeper than sadness, something like surrender. “You are going to rise from here. I know that. And I also know that when the pressure builds, when the stage is too big, you might convince yourself you need something to get through it. And maybe you will. Maybe you will not. But who am I to tell you that you should not when I see people do it every day and come out just fine?”

The words cut through me, sharp and deliberate.

I sat up straighter, hands curling into fists. “You are a coward.”

Landon flinched, but I did not stop.

“I told you I would not use again, but that is not enough for you. You are so afraid of taking a risk on me, on us, that you would rather push me away than see if we can make it.”

His jaw clenched, eyes flashing. “Every time I step on that stage, I take a risk.”

“No,” I shot back, shaking my head. “Playing music is not a risk for you. It is a language you have spoken since you were three. You do not even have to think about it. Try talking to people. Try standing in the center instead of hiding at the edge of the stage. Try putting yourself out there in a way that makes you vulnerable, and then tell me you know what real risk is.” My voice wavered, but I held his gaze. “You are okay with us as long as you control the terms. But you cannot control me, so you would rather let me go than take the chance that I will prove you wrong.”

Landon pushed to his feet, his movements stiff with frustration. “Look around, Janae. We have built something real here. This is not about control. This is about peace.” He gestured toward the trees, the lake, the world we had created in Austin. “Here, we work. Here, you are safe. You are taking your meds, you are sleeping, and you are not reaching for anything to numb yourself. We could wake up every morning and hike. We could buy a boat, have slow Sundays on the water. You could cook those ridiculous meals you love making for me, and we could create music together on our terms, not theirs.” His voice caught, and he took a step closer, kneeling in front of me, his hands closing around mine.

“We could have that mad kind of love. The kind that never fades, never burns out. You say you want forever. This could be it. All you have to do is choose it. Choose me. No stages, no spotlights, no expectations. Just us.” His grip tightened, his eyes pleading. “Tell me you want to stay here with me, away from all of it, and mean it. Do that, and I am yours. No Hollow Bones. No career that demands more from me than I am willing to give. Just you and me. No regrets.”

I stared into his adoring eyes, seeing the life he was offering me. The safety, the certainty, the unwavering love he would give me without hesitation. I knew, without a doubt, that he meant it. That if I said yes, he would pour everything he had into making me happy, into protecting me from the world and from myself.

But love was not about protection. It was not about making a world small enough to control.

And that was why we both knew what my answer had to be.

“No.”

Chapter Forty

landon

New York

July 23

To say I was heartbrokenwould be an understatement. I was heartshattered. Or maybe heart exploded. Every part of me hurt when I moved and breathed. My lungs didn’t want to expand fully. As much as I ached to even exist, I had not one regret from loving Janae Warner. I would always root for her and her success.

When she dropped me off at the Austin airport, we both fought back tears, knowing that it would be so much easier to just forget the conversation that had ended us. To forget the truth and be together until we couldn’t bear to live the lives we’d decided to live because we were afraid to be apart. I stuck a hibiscus flower in her hair, kissed her softly, and didn’t look back once I got out. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave my heart. My soul.

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