Page 48 of Matched with Her Runaway Groom

We both laugh, and I think of Isabella compared to Rachelle. I could see Rachelle doing the same thing to me at some point. I can only wish to have that opportunity someday. But my hope is a dim ember right now.

“It’s probably a good idea to steer clear when she wants something,” I say.

Roman chuckles and nods his head. “That’s true. But sometimes having a mind of her own is a good thing. She got me out of my head when I was terrified of leaving my comfort zone. And she showed me I could keep living even though I was going through PTSD episodes daily.”

He points to the scar running from his chin up to his eye. “It’s not easy, but the comfort zone isn’t for stretching yourself. How about you?”

“How about me what?” I ask.

“Have you figured out what will help you get to where you want to be?”

I rest both arms on the railing and lean down so my chin is sitting on my hands. “A year ago, I knew. I knew that it would be hard but I hoped the time would heal things. Now I’m here, going through all these emotions and feeling like I’ve made no progress in that time.”

“Maybe you didn’t have the right goal in the first place. What have you accomplished this year?”

“I became a real estate agent and have made—”

“Not accomplished in your career,” Roman says, shaking his head. “What are some of the achievements you’ve made on yourself and your character? What changed since you broke up with Rachelle?”

I do a quick mental recap of the year, noting almost nothing different within myself. I’ve thrown everything I have into learning about real estate and turning my life around with finances. I know I don't have to eat ramen and mac and cheese several nights a week in order to send money to help my mother with the house and the younger kids.

But sadly, I’ve hidden from just about everything personal this past year, hoping it would all just work itself out and then invite my brain back onto the team. If only it were that easy.

My mind goes back to when everything changed. If only I’d known that at the time, though.

Hillary approached me while Rachelle and I were taste-testing cakes and entrees at the lodge where the wedding would take place.

“You’re not good enough for her, Landon. You’ve catered to her, made it so she doesn’t have to make a decision that’s too hard. She’s weak because of you. She needs to grow on her own, without your help. If you marry her now, she’ll resent you, just like my parents resent each other.”

The conversation had gone on longer, but I can’t remember much more than that. Her words had thrown me for a loop, as she was the only one who didn’t care that I was from a middle-class family instead of the upper crust the Stewarts mingle with.

Roman’s question hits hard, but at least I can do something about it now. “It’s hard to admit, but I’ve been off-course on what I need to get done. I don’t know if I’m good enough for her. How do you figure that out?”

“Just keep trying to show her you still care. Sometimes we don’t actually deserve the ones we love, but all we can do is work everyday to show them how amazing they are. And a few gifts here and there of things she loves to do might help sweeten things.” He winks at me and I nod.

“Sorry, I promise I’ll be focused on the next meeting.”

Roman shakes his head. “I’ve called it off. I think sometimes these conferences are better when my employees have some time to relax and reset. Use that time to show Rachelle you still care about her. From everything I’ve seen, she won’t worry about whether or not you fit into the mold you think you’re supposed to be. Give her some credit. Women are a bit more forgiving than we think sometimes.”

Roman slaps me on the back again and turns to walk to where one of the other managers is standing with his wife.

I need to be better, need to show Rachelle that I still love her. And even if I’m not enough yet, there’s still potential there. I can’t imagine my life with anyone else. I just hope she’ll feel the same when this vacation ends.

CHAPTER21

Rachelle

Ilook like a raccoon. Not a cute one that I’ve seen in videos being nearly human in their actions. No, this is ten, no, a hundred times worse.

My brain didn’t allow me to sleep the night before and my appearance proves it. Large bags under my eyes are only a small thing next to the rat’s nest of hair on top of my head. Those women who wake up looking like they’ve just stepped out of a hair commercial either have some magic potion to keep things in place while they sleep, or they get up earlier than the rest of the world to make sure they look like a million bucks.

They’re the reason I’ve spent too much on makeup. The spiels about a two- or three-step process suck me in every time. If someone could sell a fifteen-step process, that might work for me.

“Wow, Rachelle. Are you all right?” Tiffany seems more peppy this morning, and I already want to stab her in the eye with my eyeliner.

“Do you want to make it home to your husband?” I almost growl.

Tiffany raises her hands in surrender and nods. “Yes, yes, I do.”

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