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Ella
When I walkinside my house, I want to crash onto the carpeted floor and sleep for a week. I didn’t realize an overnight layover would kick my ass so severely, but I’m wasted.
I intend to take a nap, then pack for the hike I have planned for tomorrow morning, but when I get to the kitchen, I’m greeted by the glaring faces of my two best friends.
“Hello, there,” I say with an awkward wave.
“Hello, there? That’s what you have to say for yourself after turning off your phone and leaving us to think God-knows-what happened to you?” Kenzie practically yells.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that—”
Piper cuts me off. “Nope. Sorry isn’t going to fix this. We spent hours calling the hotel and the airlines and the hospitals. We had no idea where you were or if anything had happened to you. We even tried the police, but nobody would help us until more time had passed.”
Kenzie nods. “What she said. I just got done leaving a message for Owen through Harrington Enterprises. My boss is pissed because I didn’t come into work this morning. I was seconds from calling the National Guard. So, Ella Danes. What in the actual fuck happened?”
I’m not sure how to answer her question. They have every right to be mad, but I did what I needed to do for me. Selfishly, I wasn’t thinking about anyone else the moment I saw Owen with Natalie. I just needed to get away.
Get away from the feelings I’d stupidly let in. Get away from Owen before he could convince me he isn’t like all the other men in my past. Get away from Saint Lucia.
“El, come on. It’s us. You can tell us anything,” Piper says.
I sigh and take a seat at the counter next to them. “I know, but I don’t have a clear answer. I just ran instead of handling things like a grown-ass woman.”
“Ran from what? Do I need to plot a murder that can be ruled an accident?” Kenzie asks and doesn’t crack a smile. I know she’s joking, but I love her even more for her efforts to cheer me up.
“I was starting to like Owen,” I admit.
Piper lays her hand over mine. “Well, did you expect anything else once you started screwing him?”
I shrug. “I thought I could keep it simple.”
“Life is never simple, babe. What made you run?” Piper asks.
“I saw Owen with one of his co-workers and not for the first time. He swore she was just a friend from work that needed help. I believed him at first, but seeing them together a second time was different. He didn’t know I was there. The way he held her and how they looked at each other and just… Gah!”
Merely remembering what I saw in the hotel lobby has me flustered. I wasn’t supposed to care enough about him to get this way. I was supposed to be done with men. I only wanted to fall in love with myself all over again. Not dive headfirst into a pool of emotions for another man.
“Playing devil’s advocate here, so don’t stab me. Did you stay long enough to ask him what was going on?” Kenzie asks.
I shake my head.
She brushes strands of her ginger hair back. “Then, maybe it isn’t what you thought.”
“No, you weren’t there. I know what I saw. There was no point in waiting around any longer.”
My hands rub over my face, and I hear one of the other stools scrape across the tile floor, then my fridge opens. Glasses clink together and settle on the counter.
A warm hand settles over my back, and I peek through my fingers to see Kenzie smiling at me. “Everything’s going to be okay, El. What you need right now is a mimosa, because, you know, it’s not even lunch time. Then a nap, and later today, things will look a fuck ton better.”
I crack my first smile since yesterday. “A fuck ton?”
“Maybe just half a fuck, but if you find a way to think of Owen as just a good screw, then he’ll be easier to forget.”
I chuckle. “He wasn’t a good screw. He was an excellent screw.”
Piper nudges me with her shoulder. “Then, you’ll have even better memories, but the important part is that’s what you think of them as now. Owen was someone who made your vacation not as boring as it could have been. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I nod. I want to believe her, but my heart constricting the way it is at the mere thought of considering my time with Owen only as a memory tells me I’m a long way from thinking how they’re suggesting.
