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CHAPTER 19
The drive home is a quiet one. I can’t exactly tell what Owen is thinking, and honestly I don’t worry too much about it as I am lost in my own thoughts. The houses and buildings are nothing but a blur as I remember what Dr. Wade said to me.
There is nothing wrong with me. At least not physically. Emotionally is another matter. Panic or anxiety attacks she said. It makes perfect sense I guess, what with everything that has happened in the last year.
When we arrive, Owen parks in front of the drive and unlocks the car, but doesn’t turn it off.
“Aren’t you coming in?” I ask him.
“I didn’t want to presume that was okay,” he replies somewhat shyly.
“Owen, this is your house, too. And even if it wasn’t, you’d always be welcome.”
“Do you want me to stay?” he asks, and I can see there is so much more meaning to the question.
“I would love that,” I say because I think he needs it, even more than me.
Jess brings Mia over in the afternoon. For the first time in a long time, we enjoy time as a family. Not that we hadn’t been together recently, it’s that this is the first time we truly let go and justarea family. It is a reminder of everything that we’d put on the line with our shenanigans.
“Are you staying the night?” I ask him.
“I thought I could. I’m sure Ray could use the alone time. He’ll probably throw a party,” he says laughing. Ray and his girlfriend broke up three months ago, and Owen has been staying with him. It’s only a temporary thing, though. Owen put a deposit down on a two-bedroom apartment not far from here. Whether he’ll stay there a short while, or much longer, only time will tell.
“We could watch a movie,” I suggest.
He chuckles and says, “Let me pick because you’re going to fall asleep anyway.”
We go to the bedroom and lay on the bed to watch. It’s the only place where we have a television that won’t make too much noise for Mia.
Owen picks Saving Private Ryan.
I squeeze into him and look up into his face. “Is this okay?”
“Mm,” he sounds, and I take that as a yes.
As predicted, my head starts to droop within five minutes. He pushes on me gently and I giggle. “Sorry! I can’t help it.”
“Not even five minutes!”
“I know, I’m awful.” I look up at him through my lashes as I laugh, then stop when I realize he’s not laughing with me. In fact, all I see in his green eyes is heat, and all I feel as he leans down and kisses me, is that all too familiar passion that I immediately respond to. I can’t help it, it’s been ingrained in me for sixteen years, my body so attuned to him that I automatically ignite with his touch.
The movie and my sleepiness completely forgotten, I climb onto his lap, straddling him, my mouth on his. His hands rove my back, his arms keeping me close. I press my core onto his hardness and he moans into my mouth. There’s a desperate need for him, as if though we don’t come together now, it will never happen.
Our breathing is hard and heavy and I start to take my shirt of, wanting us closer. But he stops me. It confuses me, and I search his face, my brows pinched together. He’s struggling for control, I can tell.
“Owen?”
“We need to talk, Cris.”
Sighing, partly in sexual frustration and partly because I genuinely can’t breathe, I sit back on his legs. “I know.”
His hands naturally go to my thighs and rest there. “I want us to work and I think I’ve shown you that.”
“You have, and I want us to work, too. I want to have what we had.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I don’t think that you’re a cheater. At least I don’t think it’s a problem of once a cheater always a cheater. But I do think it’s something to do with this guy specifically. Am I right?”
I don’t want to answer that, but I also want to be honest. He’s not angry, simply trying to find resolution. “Yes.”
