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CHAPTER 12
For the last few days I’ve skirted around Owen like a dog with its tail between her legs. If he’s in the kitchen and I need something, I stick to the perimeter of the opposite side of the room, keeping as much distance between us as I can, my eyes averted at all times. When our eyes do make contact, there’s so much resentment thrown my way that I’d almost rather him scream the words at me.
This is not something that I do because I don’t want to be near him. These are the actions of the guilty mind.
I feel horrid, not only because of what I’ve done, but because I now know the hell he’d been through when he cheated on me. Truly, I don’t know how he was able to stay here day in and day out, keeping his head up and trying to earn my trust again.
An entire week goes by before he addresses me. “Will you do me a favor?” he asks out of nowhere, coming into the laundry room while I’m folding clothes.
Of course, I jump on it. “Yes, anything you need.”
“Are you doing any other loads today?” he asks.
“One more.”
“Can I toss this in? Do you mind washing it?”
“Yeah, no problem.” I take the white shirt from him, nodding. It’s not a huge request, being that I’m already washing clothes, half of which are his. In fact, I don’t think that what he’s brought me has been worn at all.
When he leaves me I nearly beam, knowing that this is his attempt at first contact.
In the evening after I’ve washed, ironed and folded the shirt, I take it to him as an offering, a hope that we can start a conversation.
The following day he asks if I’d be willing to make cookies for him to take to work. I don’t love cooking, baking even less so. But having baked them several times before, I am familiar with the recipe.
When they’re fresh out of the oven, he comes into the kitchen and tries to sneak one. I slap his hand playfully and we both laugh, but he stops the moment he realizes what he’s doing, my smile following suit.
“Owen, can I talk to you?”
He looks down at the tray with the sweets, picking at little crumbs that have fallen. “I don’t know if I’m ready.” He doesn’t sound angry anymore, and that’s a good thing. But there is still a lot of sadness and uncertainty.
“Okay, no hurry. I understand.”
“Yeah, I know you do. I guess now we both know what it’s like to be on the other side, huh?” It’s an honest remark, nothing more.
I smirk. “The funny thing is I don’t even know which is worse. Being cheated on, or being the cheater.”
He nods, taking the cookie I’d denied him earlier and eating it anyway. There is a little crumb on his lip and I desperately want to reach over and take it, but I’m scared the physical contact will be too much for him.
But then, because I’m curious, or afraid, or maybe just stupid, I ask, “Are you going to give me a ticket, too?”
His eyes dart to mine, and they narrow to slits. He huffs, turning on the spot and leaving me there to stare after him.
“Why, Cris? You idiot!” I growl in irritation with myself.
It’s Owen’s job that finally breaks the ice, oddly enough. They are having the annual company cookout.
“Would you want to go?” he asks me after dinner, coming to stand beside me at the sink as I clean up.
“Are you sure? I mean, the last time I saw all those people…” Eesh, just thinking about the cookout they had last year makes me cringe.
“No one will remember. Besides, they expect to see us as a family. If you don’t come, I’m afraid it will get the gossips going.”
“Ah, I see. So, you just want me to go to keep people from talking.”
“It’s not just that. It will be nice to feel normal, if only just for one day. Mia would love it, too. There’s going to be one of those princess impersonators there. Think about it.”
“I don’t have to; it would be great,” I tell him, just happy that he’s talking to me at all.
