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And why did he come back?
My whole body is pounding with nerves as we finally get Owen through my front door. John puts him on the couch and looks at me expectantly for his next instructions.
I don’t know what he needs to do.
I don’t know whatI’mabout to do here.
“Erm, can you wait outside the door?” I ask him, my voice shaking like crazy. “I’ll let you know if I need anything. Is that cool?”
I don’t know if he is, but he nods anyway.
Thank God.
I can see why it’s useful now to have guys on the payroll.
Once he’s gone, I grab my medical equipment and do what I can to clean Owen up, to see what’s going on underneath the surface.
It looks like he’s been stabbed a couple of times, but the wounds aren’t too deep, thank goodness. His wound from the ambush at the cabin has also been ripped open. He’s going to get through this fine.
My heart starts to calm down as I realize that while Owen looks bad, he’s going to be okay. He’s definitely going to be fine. I’m not going to lose him right now.
I don’t ever want to lose him.
Ever.
I know he ran away from me, and I do still kinda hate him for that, but if there was a reason behind it, some kind of reasonable explanation, then maybe we can work on things and move forwards.
He loves me.
I can’t forget about that.
I haven’t forgotten about that.
Owen doesn’t seem like the type of man to throw the L word around easily, but he said it to me. He told me that he loves me, which means something.
I love him too.
As soon as I allow that emotion to come flying free, unlocking the box I have kept it in ever since I met him, a weight lifts off my shoulders.
I love him and I don’t want to keep fighting that anymore.
Not only do I need Owen in my life, but our unborn baby does, too.
With my hand on my belly, a tear leaks down my cheek.
“Owen, please don’t slip away from me,” I murmur under my breath. I wish he could hear me, I wish he was here with me. “I need you. I want you. I love you.”
He cracks his eyes open, just a little bit, and peers at me. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I keep on talking anyway. It’s time to say everything that I’ve not been brave enough to say until now.
But nothing is guaranteed, so if I don’t speak now, it might never happen.
“I need you, and so does our baby, Owen. I’m pregnant.”
I take his hand and press it to my belly, wondering if he can pick up on what I’m saying. I don’t get any clue that he’s conscious enough, but I hope he senses that he’s wanted, that he’s needed. Me and our baby need him to fight and survive. No matter what.
TWENTY-EIGHT
OWEN
