Owen’s jaw tightened as her words sank in, his grip on her hands flexing just slightly. He knew she was right. He had left her in the dark, even if that was never his intention. But hearing it from her like that, so raw, so hurt, made his stomach twist with guilt.
“I know,” he admitted, his voice rough, pained. “I know, Lila. And I hate that I made you feel like that. That I made you think, even for a second, that I was gone.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “But d-mn it, Lila, I never left you. I never would.”
His voice softened, but the emotion behind it stayed just as strong. “I should’ve called. I should’ve said something. I just- ” He let out a deep sigh, frustration evident, but not at her, at himself. “I was dealing with so much, and I shut you out. That wasn’t fair to you.”
His thumb brushed over her knuckles absentmindedly, like he needed to remind himself that she was still standing here, still with him. His throat tightened as he met her gaze. “But please, believe me when I say… I never wanted you to feel abandoned.”
Owen’s jaw tightened at her next words, not in anger, but in that deep, unsettled way where something didn’t sit right with him. He seems nice. That part lingered in his mind longer than it should have. It wasn’t just what she said, it was how she said it. Like she was reassuring him, but also… maybe reassuring herself.
His hands were still on her waist, but his grip unconsciously tightened just slightly. “Yeah,” he said, voice quieter now, rougher. “He seems nice.” There was something almost unreadable in his tone. He wanted to believe her. He did believe her. But that nagging feeling in his chest? The one that told him there was more to this than what she was letting on? It wasn’t going anywhere.
Owen swallowed hard, forcing himself to shake it off. This wasn’t the time to go down that road. He had her in front of him. Clearly there was love between them. So why the hell did it still feel like he wasn’t the only one on her mind?
Pushing the thought away, he gave a small nod, brushing his thumb over her cheek again. “Okay,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “Then there’s nothing to worry about.” But as he kissed her forehead, holding her close, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if he was just trying to convince himself of that.
Owen exhaled sharply, his forehead still pressed against hers, his hands cradling her face. He had spent days trapped in his own head, fighting the weight of everything he hadn’t said, the fear of losing her, the way it destroyed him to think she might have moved on. And now, standing here with her, hearing the concern in her voice, the way she begged him not to hate himself, it nearly broke him.
His voice was raw when he finally spoke. “I should’ve told you how much you mean to me,” he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. “That I love you. That I’ve loved you this whole damn time, Lila.” He let out a shaky breath, his grip on her tightening just slightly. “Instead, I let my own fear and my own issues push you away, and I hate myself for it because… because I can’t lose you.”
The moment the words left her lips, I love you too, Owen Parker, it was like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. His heart slammed against his ribs, a rush of emotion hitting him so hard he almost forgot how to breathe. He had wanted to hear those words, needed to hear them, but now that he had, it didn’t feel real. Like maybe he had imagined it, like maybe his brain was playing some cruel trick on him.
But then he saw it. The way she looked at him, the way her eyes softened with something so raw and real, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. A breath of shaky laughter left him, something caught between disbelief and overwhelming relief. “You mean that?” he murmured, his thumbs still softly tracing over the tear-streaked skin as if grounding himself in the moment. As if making sure she was real, that this was real.
Owen’s hands tightened gently around hers as she voiced her worries, his brows drawing together. Owen’s expression softened as Lila voiced her worries. He could hear the doubt in her voice, the fear that her past might somehow define her in the eyes of his family. He hated that she felt that way, like she had to prove herself, like she wasn’t enough just as she was.
“Hey,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly to meet her gaze. “My parents don’t get to decide who I’m with. That’s my choice. And I already chose you.” His voice was steady, firm, leaving no room for argument. “Your past doesn’t change the way I feel about you. It never has, and it never will.”
He let out a small breath, shaking his head as if the idea of anyone not liking her was completely absurd. “Besides, once they meet you, they’re gonna love you just like I do. My mom’s probably gonna try to adopt you, and my dad… well, he’s a tough guy, but I know he’s gonna see what I see in you.”
Then, after a brief pause, he added, “And they never have to find out. Not unless you want them to, of course.” His voice was firm but reassuring, making it clear that she had control over what she shared. “This is your story, your life. No one gets to judge you for it.”
When she made the joke about the non-refundable ticket, he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. But just as she smiled, something flickered in her eyes, something distant. His gut twisted slightly, but before he could place what it was, she was looking up at him again, leaning in.
He exhaled sharply against her mouth, as if he’d been holding his breath for days, and then he was kissing her, really kissing her. His hands slid up to frame her face, thumbs brushing against her cheeks as he pulled her in closer, deeper. The warmth of her, the way she fit against him, the way her lips moved with his, it was intoxicating, overwhelming in the best way.
Gone were the thoughts about what had just crossed her mind. Gone was any hesitation about the past or the future. There was only this moment, only her. One of his hands tangled in her hair as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss like he was making up for lost time. He felt her melt against him, and a quiet groan escaped his throat as he held her even tighter. By the time they finally broke apart, both breathless, Owen rested his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly against her jaw. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to do something just for me.” He swallowed, his voice dropping just a little lower. “But if you do come with me… I think it could be amazing.” He let the words hang between them, his lips barely an inch from hers, waiting, because, in the end, it was her choice. It would always be her choice.