Page 2 of His Secret Wish

“It’s nice to see you, too, Owen.” She kept her voice even, her expression neutral. Which was really fricking hard. She had so many things she wanted to say to him, questions she wanted to ask. But the timing was off.

He grunted, but didn’t say anything. Very unhelpful.

Toward the end of their marriage, she’d gotten good at interpreting his grunts, because he had a multitude, each with a different meaning. But she’d grown rusty and couldn’t translate this one.

She hated that she couldn’t see his eyes with his hat pulled down so low. Owen might be a man of few words—very, very, very few words—but his eyes were incredibly expressive, and always had been. They almost always gave away his emotions. Or, at least, they used to.

Taking a deep breath for calm, she pasted on a smile. It felt brittle around the edges, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to fool him with it—one of the pitfalls of knowing someone for a lifetime—but she had to at least try. “I came to talk to you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. And she was not noticing the way his long-sleeved t-shirt pulled tight across his pecs and biceps. “I’m not signing the papers.” His deep voice was full of thunder clouds.

Her eye twitched, which she hoped he wouldn’t notice. She managed to hold back both an eyeroll and a sigh. “That’s not why I’m here.”

This time, anyway. But there was no point in fighting with him about that right now, not when she was about to ask him for a massive favor. They could get into the reasons why he needed to sign the divorce papers later.

“Out with it, cariño? I’ve got things to do.” He didn’t look at his watch, but he might as well have tapped the face in impatience.

The endearment was unexpected—and unintentional, if the way he froze was any indication—and it sent a tingle down her spine. He hadn’t called her that, which roughly translated to sweetheart or darling, in years. The back of her eyes prickled, and she opened them wide to prevent the tears from forming. Falling apart was not on today’s agenda.

He looked away for a moment, as if he was affected by the slip, too. When he turned back, his jaw was even tighter. If she listened closely, she could probably hear his teeth cracking and grinding from the pressure.

She swallowed back everything bubbling inside her, promising to unpack it all later. When Owen wasn’t right there, clouding her judgment, making things complicated.

And speaking of complicated, she was about to make things infinitely worse. She took a deep breath. “I have a favor to ask.”

He cocked his head, surprise flickering across his features. It was nice to be the one keeping him on his toes, although she didn’t have time to bask in the moment. Now that she had his full attention, it was time to strike.

“I need you to come with me to my bisabuela’s birthday party in Truckee for the weekend.” The words came out rushed, mostly because she didn’t want to stop and have him interrupt her.

He stood there, not saying anything, and not moving for so long, she thought she might have imagined saying the words out loud. She ran her lower lip between her teeth, contemplating whether she should say anything more.

He pulled his hat off and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “What?”

His dark hair was disheveled, verging on hat hair which, given how often he wore his hat, was not surprising. She wanted to run her fingers through it so badly, she had to clench her fists to stop from trying. His blue Callahan eyes reflected his confusion.

She was glad his eyes were still so expressive. It made everything with him so much easier. And, given their history, she needed something to be easy.

“It’s my bisabuela’s ninetieth birthday, and my family is having a big party for her in Truckee. All my extended family and everyone will be there. I need you there with me.”

“Why would I go to your great grandmother’s birthday party? Why would you even want me there?” Bewilderment clung to the words. “If you had your way, I’d be your ex-husband by next weekend.” The bewilderment turned to bitterness at the end.

She flinched, her chest aching. The goal had never been to hurt him, but she couldn’t continue to live in limbo. He’d never believe it, but she was hurting just the same as he was. She was just adult enough to realize they both needed to move forward.

Looking away, she blew out a breath. Out with it, Isabella. Just say it and get it over with. She looked back at him, made sure to keep her gaze on his. “So, about that…”

He cocked one of his dark eyebrows, something he’d always been very good at. Like, campy soap opera actor good.

She licked her lips, giving the bottom one a quick chew for good measure. “My family doesn’t know we’re separated.”

His other eyebrow shot up.

“Well, not my family here, because Mami, Papi and Antonio know, of course. But, you know, the rest of my family. The aunts and uncles and cousins. My grandparents. My bisabuela. That kind of family. The extended family, I guess.” She was rambling, but she couldn’t seem to stop her lips from moving.

“And? I still don’t know what this has to do with me.” The frost was back in his tone, and he crossed his arms again. Only his eyes betrayed him, still giving away his confusion.

“Okay, so it’s not just about coming, but once we’re there, we need to pretend we’re not separated. That we’re still happily married.”

Owen cocked his head, trying to push through the confusion and hurt and anger that being in the same space as Isabella always brought up. Because his ears were clearly playing tricks on him. There was no way, after sending him the signed divorce papers again last week, that she was asking him to go on vacation with her. Not to mention, they needed to pretend they were still happily married.