This is her world, and Owen is her oyster.
Meanwhile, I would be on the verge of throwing up if I were sitting in that chair with over a hundred people watching me.
But Owen… Even though I can tell he feels uneasy about the whole situation, he still fits right in.
Beautiful belongs with beautiful.
I try to swallow, but it feels impossible as it all seems to click in my head.
I love Owen, but these aren't my people.
I don’t feel comfortable here. I’ve never fit in with the cool, athletic, popular crowd.
But thesearehis people. Before I met Owen, he was a fucking football star at a D1 college. Everybody knew him. Everybody wanted him.
Meanwhile, aside from my professors and a couple of friends, no one at my school knew my name, and I liked it that way.
I genuinely like being invisible.
I like nerding out and being alone. I like closing myself in my room and disappearing into a book for hours. I like wearing baggy clothes when I go out so I don’t get weird glances from unsuspecting men.
As insecure as I can be at times, I like being… me.
And the cold, hard truth is that Owen couldn't be farther from me on the social spectrum.
I love Owen. I love him with my whole heart. I willalwayslove him.
But I fear that I’m trying so desperately to make something work that isn't meant to be.
As much as I love him, we don’t fit.
But they do.
As Owen stands next to the magnetic woman with silky red hair, I can’t help but recognize how right they look together.
They look like they make sense. Two gorgeous, outgoing, show-stopping people who could dominate the world together.
And it’s not just about their looks. It’s how they have the spotlight on them, and they still look so comfortable. This is their element, where they were born to be.
She is the type of woman that Owen deserves to spend his life with.
Not… me.
Never me.
Not the girl who let herself get shoved to the back of the bouquet toss.
Not the girl who doesn't know if she would even be able to recite vows at her own wedding one day, in fear of fainting.
Not the girl who can’t make small talk without overthinking every word.
Not the girl who still lacks confidence, even when the man she wants the most looks at her like she’s everything.
The crowd whistles as the song changes—Ponyby Ginuwine rolls through the speakers.
Owen glances back at me, worry contorting his handsome face as he kneels in front of her. I’ve never seen him so stiff—so out of his depth—as the lace garter dangles from his fingers.
The floodgates I’ve been forcing shut burst open.
