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I swallowed against the sudden nausea, which might’ve been from the pain, the antiseptic’s caustic fumes, or the guilt. Probably all three.
“He doesn’t hate me,” I acknowledged. “He doesn’t remember me cheating. He even asked me earlier if…” I winced at the memory. “He asked if our breakup was bad enough that we couldn’t go back. Like I swear, he wanted to suggest trying again.”
“Whoa.” She glanced up at me with wide eyes. “Hereallydoesn’t remember.”
“No,” I whispered. “So I don’t know what to do.” While she continued cleaning up and redressing my wound, I gave her the rundown of what I’d been chewing on in the car, and the conclusion I’d eventually come to. “I need to tell him. I’m just… I’m not surehow.”
Lia pursed her lips as she finished taping the edge of the bandage. Then she peeled off her gloves and took a bottle of hand sanitizer from the tote, and as she rubbed it on, she said, “Well, he’s going to be angry and hurt no matter what. I don’t think there’s any getting around that.”
I nodded. “Can’t imagine there would be.”
“Right. So I think the best thing—honestly, theonlything—you can do is to just sit him down and gently tell him the truth. Own up to what you did. Tell him you’ll understand if he wants to go no-contact again. But maybe also assure him that you’ll still help him through this, and that you won’t read anything into it if he takes you up on that.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, tell him you’ll help him because you care about him, but that you’re not under any illusion that this will put you back on his Christmas card list or make him want you back as a partner or even a friend.”
“So, make sure he knows I don’t have ulterior motives.”
“Exactly. And the longer you go without telling him the truth—or if he finds out on his own—the harder it’s going to be to sell that to him. So I wouldn’t wait.”
“Yeah. Yeah, good point.” I was suddenly restless with the need to get back to Owen’s condo. “He wants me to come back today anyway. He’s…” I waved my uninjured hand. “Stressed about everything. I don’t want to pile on that, but…”
“But you’re better off telling him now than having him find out later.”
Nodding, I said, “Good point. I should get going, then.” I held up my freshly bandaged arm. “And thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Keep an eye on it, too—it isn’t getting infected by the looks of it, but you know how quick it can change.”
“I do. And I will. Thanks again.”
With that, I hurried out of my office and out to my car.
I was sick with nerves and guilt, but filled with determination. Come what may, I had to tell Owen the truth. If he wanted nothing to do with me after this, fine. But he deserved to know, and he deserved to know now.
So I texted Owen that I was on my way, pulled out of the parking lot, and drove like hell toward the condo.
Chapter 5
Owen
I felt like an absolute tool, begging Matteo to come back. We weren’t together anymore. He was myex. He’d already bailed on work today and tomorrow to help me out. Did he really need to put up with my clingy, panicked ass?
But I didn’t know what else to do. He’d been gone all of ten minutes before I’d started to come unraveled, and though I’d tried to talk myself out of it, I’d eventually broken down and texted him.
He’d read my message. A couple of minutes later, he still hadn’t responded.
I told myself he wasn’t at my beck and call, and even when we were still together, sometimes it took either of us a little while to respond. Plus he was probably driving. Matteo was scrupulous about not texting while driving, though he would read messages at stoplights. So that was probably what he’d done this time, and once he’d actually stopped and killed the engine, he’d respond. How long that would be, I had no idea. I didn’t know where he lived these days, and for all I knew, he was heading off to God knew where to get laid or something.
I was such a mess. Jesus.
I’d been about to scroll through my contacts and reach out to someone else when Matteo had replied.
Matteo:Lia wants to another look at my arm.She’s worried it’ll get infected. So I’m going to run by the clinic, then I’ll be on my way over.
I’d chuckled to myself.
Owen:She doesn’t think you can recognize the signs of an infection?
