Without another word, I unhook the chain and let him in.
I breathe in his scent as he steps past me and stands in the small foyer, snow pooling at his boots. I try to close the door gently, but it thuds anyway.
When I turn to face him, Owen gives me a nervous smile and holds out the coffee, his arm slightly trembling as he waits for me to take it. I do, and the warmth seeps through the cardboard into my hands.
Neither of us says anything, but I can feel the words brewing, heavy as storm clouds.
Owen looks around my apartment, his gaze sweeping over the mess, then settling back on my face.
He doesn't even attempt to judge me or make a joke. It’s very obvious that I’m not okay.
“I’m sorry,” he finally mutters, his voice cracking, “for barging in here like this. I—I didn’t know what else to do. I had to see you.”
The ache in my chest sharpens. I expect him to tell me off, accuse me of being a coward, or demand an explanation.
“I miss you,” he continues, letting out a breath like he’s been holding it in for ages. “God, Meadow. I miss you so fucking much.”
I stand there clutching the coffee, letting it warm my icy fingers as I try to gather words. I want to tell him everything. About the sorrow, the regret, how I’ve barely been able to sleep or eat, how every cell in my body wants to apologize for how I’ve treated him.
The words crowd my throat, too big, too jumbled to say out loud.
“I know…” I trail off. “I miss you, too.”
His expression relaxes slightly at my response.
“Are you… Okay?” he asks hesitantly, his gaze studying me. “Amy said you called in sick.”
A weighted silence falls between us as I slowly shake my head.
“No… No, I’m not okay,” I reply, my voice thin. “But I’m also not sick. I—I just couldn’t face you yet.” I finally look up, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
His brows pinch together like he’s perplexed, as if I’m not living in squalor right now.
“Like what?”
“Like this,” I whisper, looking around at my apartment that’s in shambles. “Like a fucking, pathetic mess.”
His face twists with emotion.
“And you think I’ve been any better?” he asks. “Meadow, I can’t sleep, eat, focus, or even function. I’ve been such a fucking wreck since we got back to Chicago. I feel like I can hardly breathe without you.”
I feel like I can hardly breathe without you.
His confession should make me feel better, but instead, it breaks me.
“How could you miss me?” I croak. “How could you possibly still want me after how I abandoned you? Literally ran away from you when things got hard?”
“Because I know why you ran,” Owen replies, understanding filling his tone. “I know why you left. I know you, Meadow Riley. I know you’re scared of letting anyone in, but that’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted—to be the one person you let in. To be the one person who gets to love you.”
To be the one person who gets to love you.
For a second, I think I might evaporate from embarrassment and shame. How did I ever walk away from him so easily? My heart beats out of control as my brain tries to process how Owen still wants me after everything.
“Owen…” I breathe.
“You’re everything to me,” he goes on, his voice emboldened. He steps toward me, closing the distance between us and cupping my face between his palms.
“Meadow, you’re more than enough,” he rasps. “I need you to see that you are all I fucking need. I know you think that I’m destined to be with a certain type of girl, but I don’t give a shit about any of that superficial stuff. I’ve never cared about any of that. I don’t want anyone but you. I’m in love withyou.”
