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Someone came into the office, and my heart skipped.
It wasn’t Owen, though. It was Lia, her hands full of dressings and antiseptic ointment for my arm.
She halted and eyed me. “What?” With a cautious grin, she added, “Did you hear the basilisk in the waiting room or something?”
I groaned. “Oh, God. Not another one.” I didn’t have to treat them anymore, but it always made me nervous when they were in the building.
“Dr. Knowles is handling him. Don’t worry about it.” She turned serious again. “But you look like someone just put one onyourschedule.” She continued across my office. “What’s going on?”
“Uh, well…”
I didn’t have a chance to say anything further, because a second later, Owen swept into my office, eyes wide and face pale.
Lia froze. So did I.
He looked at her. Then at me. “I need to talk to you.”
I gulped. “Uh.” I glanced down at my arm. “All right. I just, uh… We need to…”
“Oh shit!” His eyes widened and he came closer, hands out as if he wanted to help steady me or even cradle my injured arm. “Are you okay? What happened?”
The concern in his expression and his voice—not to mention him being this close to me all of a sudden—brought me up short. He actually sounded genuinely worried. The same way he always had when I picked up some kind of war wound at work.
The same way he always hadin the past. Because those days were far behind us now, and I wouldn’t have been surprised at all if he’d told me I deserved it and he hoped I’d been bitten by something hellaciously venomous.
This? The way he was suddenly in his familiar mother hen mode? I didn’t know what to make of it.
You don’t give a shit about me anymore. What the hell is happening?
But I was worried about him, too, and I wanted to hear him out, so I just quietly said, “It’s fine. A raróg clawed my arm.” I exchanged glances with Lia. She was obviously uncomfortable in here, and she didn’t say a word as she started laying out everything to dress my wound. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long; she didn’t need to be caught in whatever crossfire was coming. I nodded to one of my guest chairs and told Owen, “Have a seat. We’ll just be a minute.”
He sat down, and no one spoke as Lia got started. I swore a few times from the antiseptic—Christ, that shit burned—but mostly, I surreptitiously watched my ex.
I had no idea how to feel about this. I was worried sick about him. I’d never seen him this freaked out before, and I had no idea what to make of it.
It also hurt like hell to see him. Just thinking about him these days made me queasy with guilt, and the few times I’d stumbled over a photo of him or tortured myself by looking at one on purpose, I’d been a mess for hours after. I missed him. Ihatedmyself for ruining what we had, and not a day went by that I didn’t wish I could go back and undo all that damage. Even if I couldn’t save our relationship, there was literally nothing I wouldn’t do if it meant I didn’t hurt him like I did a year ago.
I wish I could tell you how sorry I am.
I wish I could tell you how much I still love you.
I wish there was even a single reality where I deserved a second chance with you.
It was just as well the antiseptic was burning my arm. At least then no one in this room would question why my eyes were welling up. Under normal circumstances, Lia would probably rib me about it, but I was pretty sure she’d keep that to herself this time. From the way she avoided my eyes and worked fast, she was trying to finish up and get out of here as soon as possible. If I had to guess, she’d have preferred being in a room with an angry hellhound or a Gulon with a toothache over staying in here with the two of us. Couldn’t say I blamed her.
Unsurprisingly, as soon as she’d finished taping the bandage, she booked it out of my office, closing the door behind her.
And now…
Now I was alone with Owen.
Owen, who was ghostly pale, sweating bullets, and from the looks of it, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. Not very successfully, either.
I sat up, carefully cradling my bandaged arm. “Hey. Owen.”
I fully expected a glare. A snarled comment. Something. Now that there was no one else around, he’d let the mask drop and remind me of my place in his world.
But the response I got was worse than that. He met my gaze and stared at me, looking for all the world like he was about to break down, and not because I’d broken his heart.
