Chapter 58: Chapter 58
Celeste sat alone at a quiet corner table of the downtown café. Landon had picked a more reserved place but she didn’t trust him enough to be that comfortable with him.
So she changed the space to an open one. She picked an open café. If anything happens, people are around, and Dominic men aren’t far off.
The café smelled more of burnt espresso than comfort.
The paint was peeling from the exposed brick walls, the music was a grainy jazz hum barely bleeding through old speakers, and the menu hadn’t changed since the last time she’d been here—which, ironically, had been with Landon. Their last argument had started in this very booth.
She tapped her fingernail against the ceramic cup of black coffee, trying not to check the time again. It was past noon. He was late. Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe this was just Landon’s way of asserting control
Making her wait was a typical behaviour of Landon.
The bell above the door jingled, and jebfinally walked in. Exactly one hour after their scheduled time. She should have known he never grew up.
He hadn’t changed. Mentally, and physically, nothing shifted, or moved places.
He was still tall and lean, and still dressed like the city owed him something. His suit was black, tailored, and sharp enough to draw blood. His sunglasses stayed on longer than they should have as he approached, and even as he took them off and slid into the booth across from her, his expression was unreadable.
Celeste took a breath. "You’re late."
"You’re early," Landon replied, tone clipped.
Celeste swallowed. He was mocking her right now, and she knew it.
His voice hadn’t changed either.
She didn’t respond. Not immediately. She studied him, the stubble on his jaw, the hint of sleeplessness under his eyes, and the tension carved into his shoulders.
Finally, she said, "You asked to meet."
"And you agreed." He picked up a sugar packet, flicked it twice, and tossed it onto the table unopened. "Surprised Dominic let you out without a leash."
She frowned. "We’re not doing this."
Landon lifted a brow, calm as ever. "Doing what? Talking like people? You used to be better at it."
"And you used to be less bitter," Celeste muttered.
He let out a humorless chuckle. "Life has a way of sanding down the sweetness. You know that better than anyone."
Celeste reached for her coffee. It was cold now. She set it back down.
"I came here because I thought there might still be something salvageable in the mess between us," she said. "Some small shred of decency. But if all you want is to toss insults like knives, then we’re done."
She stared at him, and for the first time, she realized she never loved him. She was only in love with the illusion of him.
She never thought a day would come where she’d look at him and be able to shrug her shoulders without feeling any love or hate for him.
Landon leaned back, arms folding across his chest. "You don’t get to waltz back in with Dominic and play the victim."
"I never played the victim."
He tilted his head. "No? You sure had the timing for it."
Something in her cracked a little, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she slowly rose from her seat.
He had just clarified everything she had been wondering about. This rude attitude of his was enough closure she needed. Now, the signs were fully out of how she had been just a bet.
"I’m not doing this with you," she said, her voice firm. "I don’t have time to untangle the web of your bitterness."
She stepped out of the booth, grabbed her bag, and turned toward the exit.
"Celeste," Landon called from behind her. His voice was low, and one could tell that he was clearly enjoying it.
She paused but didn’t turn.
"Your apartment," he said, casually. "Someone broke into it days ago, am I right?" There was a smile at the edge of his voice.
She froze. That got her attention. Slowly, she turned to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing.
"What did you say?"
Landon remained seated, cool as frost. "Window shattered. Drawers pulled open. Nothing taken, though. Almost like... they were just looking." He scoffed, and picked up a cube of sugar and played with it again. "Not like your home had something she wanted."
Her stomach twisted. "How do you know that?"
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he stirred his coffee with a slow circle of the spoon.
Then, without looking up, he said. "Tell Dominic... Theresa says hi."
Theresa.
The name echoed in Celeste’s mind. There was no context around the name in her mind. She blinked.
"Who?"
Landon said nothing more. He didn’t explain, nor did he ever plan to elaborate before coming here. He knew Celeste. That little information was enough to mess her up.
And that was the aim!
Running into Theresa must be a life saver for him.
He just gave her a faint, knowing smile. He knew he just dropped a match in a dry forest. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to be able to watch it all burn.
Then, with a grace that only arrogance could wear so confidently, he stood, slipped his sunglasses back on, and walked out of the café.
Celeste’s knees trembled as she watched him walk out of her. She grabbed the booth to steady herself as she slowly sat down.
Since that night, she never asked Dominic about the incident anymore. She knew it was related to him, and half of her was scared to know the answers, or how deep she was now rooted in his whole affair.
She had tried to bury that night, and accept the fairytale the following days came with but now, it all came crashing down on her.
Her stomach made a sound, and she immediately felt sick. Her stomach twisted, her face turned pale, and she stretched up, and immediately ran to the rest room, where she emptied her stomach.