Chapter 3

3.

Since I was going to marry someone else, it wasn't right to keep the Hayes family's engagement ring.

I had the ring sent back to their estate and called Aunt Eleanor, who had always doted on me.

When she heard I was going to Boston for the alliance, she was heartbroken. "Victoria, my dear, does Landon know about this?"

I paused for a moment. "He doesn't. And Eleanor, please don't tell him. I'm leaving in three days, and I don't want any more drama."

The line went silent.

"I know, even if you didn't say it. Landon has been awful these past six months, trailing after that Misty girl and breaking your heart." Aunt Eleanor sighed, her voice thick with emotion. "After your mother passed, I thought of you as my own daughter. I swore I'd look after you forever. I can't believe you're moving so far away… it's all my useless son's fault."

"It's not his fault. We just weren't meant to be," I said, trying to soothe her. "You can't force these things."

"Please don't be sad. It's so easy to travel now. If I want to see you, it's just a few hours on a plane."

After a bit more comforting, Aunt Eleanor finally calmed down and accepted the reality of the situation.

After hanging up, I went to a board meeting to set things in motion, preparing a special parting gift for that lying, heartless father-daughter duo.

When I got home, I found the staff moving Misty's things into my bedroom. My own luggage was scattered in the hallway like garbage.

I scanned the room and immediately noticed something was missing. The Victorian-era, heart-shaped gold locket my mother had left me was gone. Only the empty box remained on the floor.

My mother had searched tirelessly for it in antique shops across Europe while she was sick. It held a picture of the two of us.

"Vicki, I'm sorry. Dad said your room gets the best sunlight, which is good for my recovery, so he asked me to move in."

Misty came over, pretending to be apologetic, but her eyes gleamed with triumph.

A fire ignited in my chest. I grabbed her by the collar, my voice low and dangerous. "Where is my locket?"

"...Locket?" Misty feigned terror, her eyes wide with confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."

My eyes were glacial. "Stop playing dumb," I hissed. "I'm asking you, where is the locket?"

"What's going on? It's just a stupid locket. Do you have to scare her like that?" Landon suddenly appeared, pulling Misty behind him protectively, his eyes full of disapproval.

I turned to him, my own eyes red-rimmed. "What did you just call it―a stupid locket?"

Landon was taken aback by the venom in my gaze, and the words caught in his throat.

Misty rushed forward, crying, and shoved a familiar black card into my hands.

"Vicki, I'm so sorry, I really don't know anything about a locket!"

"This is the primary family credit card Dad gave me. Whatever the locket costs, I'll pay you back, okay? Please, just don't be angry!"

Even now, she couldn't resist rubbing it in, flaunting the card that symbolized financial control of the Davenport Group.

Seeing the challenge and triumph in Misty's eyes, and the way Landon stood there like her guard dog, I suddenly felt tired of it all.

If Misty wouldn't give it back, I had other ways of getting it.

I emotionlessly pushed the still-acting Misty aside and turned to pack my own things.

Inside were so many gifts from Landon: a ring he'd woven from grass when we were kids, the life-sized teddy bear for my tenth birthday, the commemorative bracelet from when he first confessed his love at eighteen… and a thick stack of Polaroids, filled with memories.

From age five to twenty-four, Landon had taken over five thousand pictures of me, documenting nearly every moment of my life.

He once said, "Photographs hold feelings. When I've taken pictures of you until you're twenty-five, we'll get married, okay?"

I believed him then. I never thought he'd be the one to walk away first.

He had built a prison of memories with those five thousand photos and left me inside it all alone.

Thinking of all the times in my past life I'd stared at those pictures, my heart aching, I carried the box out to the balcony. One by one, I lit them on fire, watching the flames consume our past until nothing was left but a basin of ash.

Just then, Landon pushed the door open.

When he saw the smoldering remains in the fire pit, his face changed. He lunged forward, trying to pull the photos out with his bare hands.

"What are you doing? These are our memories!"

My face was calm as I tossed the last few into the flames. "I don't like them anymore. We can always take new ones."

"No! These are one-of-a-kind! We can never get them back!"

Landon's eyes were red with pain. His hands were blistering in the heat, but he couldn't save a single picture.

I looked away from his burned hands, a bitter laugh caught in my throat.

We weren't the people we used to be. What was the point of keeping those photos?

Twenty years of closeness, twenty years of weathering storms together. We had already lost our way.