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“Why shouldn’t you?” he gritted out. “You knew I’d find out eventually.”
I winced and nodded. “Yeah. I did.” I stared down at my wringing hands as I drew in a breath. “It wasn’t that I wanted to hide it. I just… I knew how bad it hurt you the first time around. I’ve…” I exhaled and shook my head. “A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about that.”
Owen didn’t speak, but I could feel him watching me.
Being the coward I was, I still kept my own gaze down. “I knew you were going to find out one way or the other, and I wanted to be the one to tell you. When you asked at the clinic? If we’d broken up? I…” This time I did meet his eyes, which were still icy and red. “I guess I panicked? You were a mess right then. Anyone would’ve been. All the shit you were trying to deal with? I wasn’t going to pretend we were still together, but I just… couldn’t tell you the truth. Not then.”
Owen’s jaw worked. “So you pretended we were friendly?”
“What else could I do?” I whispered. “Kick you while you were down?”
He cut his eyes away, and I was surprised I couldn’t hear his molars grinding.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I hurt you with it once before. I knew it was going to hurt you a second time. I was just…” I waved a hand before letting it drop heavily in my lap. “Trying to figure out when and how to tell you so I’d hurt you the least.”
He gave a slow nod of acknowledgment. Heavy silence hung between us as he took a long drink from his glass. He watched himself putting it down, and he kept his gaze fixed on his fingers as they drew loops in the condensation. All the while, my stomach twisted itself into knots and my heart slammed into my ribcage. I didn’t know if we had any hope of coming out the end of this conversation with some kind of peaceful resolution; I just wanted to avoid as many of his landmines as I could. It seemed like the least I could do.
Finally, Owen spoke. “I don’t want to know. At all. But… I need to, and I deserve to.” He flicked his eyes up to meet mine. “No bullshit, Matteo. Tell me the truth, or this conversation is over.” He inclined his head.“Why?”
The question thumped against my chest, and I was again the one to break eye contact. He didn’t need to elaborate either. I knew what he meant, and he was right—he deserved to know.
“I wish I had a good answer for you,” I whispered. “Honestly, I wish I did.”
Owen gave an impatient huff, and the squeak of his chair on the floor sent panic through me. He’dbarelystarted to get up before I said, “Wait. Please. Just… hear me out.”
He glared hard at me, still partway out of his seat.
“I’m not going to bullshit you,” I said, my voice plaintive. “When I say I don’t have a good answer, I mean because there isn’t one. There’s no excuse. I’m just telling you upfront that I can’t justify what I did, and I’m not going to try.”
He studied me for a few heartbeats. Then he eased back into his chair, guard fully up.
I did my best not to let my relief show. Resting my injured arm on the table, I sat straighter and looked right in his eyes. “I fucked up, and it’s a hundred percent on me.” I swallowed. “I own that. Okay?”
Owen’s response was a barely perceptible nod.
“As forwhyI fucked up? I…” My shoulders dropped under the weight of fatigue. I swore I was more exhausted than I’d been during the worst stretches of veterinary school, and that said a lot. “It was…” Where to even start? We hadn’t made it this far the day I’d confessed, and no matter how many times I’d relived that conversation, going through futile rehearsals of an alternate version where I somehow said the right thing, I’d never found the words.
“Was it a long-term thing?” Owen asked flatly. “Or once?”
“Once,” I said without hesitation. “It was only the one time.”
He drew his tongue across his lips. “When did it happen?”
“Toronto. So, at the conference.”
He relaxed minutely, as if I’d confirmed something he already knew. Whether that did much to earn me any credibility, I had no idea, but I’d take it.
“All right. Look.” I scratched the back of my neck. “This is going to start out sounding really bad. But hear me out. Please?”
His eyebrow flicked up. “Okay?”
I swallowed. “The truth is, I was bored. I felt like we were in a rut, and things were boring, and when I saw the chance for something new and exciting, I jumped on it.”
Owen lowered his chin a little. “Well, you’re right about it starting out sounding really bad.” He folded his hands on the table. “You definitely have me curious about how it’s going to get any better.”
“Because I realized too late—after the fact—that I wasn’t bored. We weren’t in a rut. We were…” Fuck. I was going to break down right here at the table, wasn’t I? I had to clear my throat a couple of times before I could speak again, and though it was a struggle, I forced myself to look him in the eyes. “We were happy.”
That made him jump, but his expression quickly darkened. “So you were bored with us being happy?”
