Soft Shock (21 page)

Yeah, she’d
tried that love thing once. And once was certainly enough.

#

In the pre-dawn
early morning, Marci awoke to the sight of Owen staring down at her. She
reached up for a kiss, ready for breakfast sex, but he put a hand around her
wrist, pulled away, and shook his head. Lowering her head back to the pillow,
she stared up at him quizzically.

“We have to
stop this. You know that, don’t you?” His tone was impossible to read. It
didn’t come out as icy as those words should have, but it wasn’t entirely
compassionate, either.

“One last time.
We’re not done with the one last time until we get out of bed.”

She reached for
him again, and he moved over to the edge of the bed and sat up. Looking back at
her, he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, and you were
right. I was wrong. Things
have
changed.
Just sex isn’t enough for me. The more I get to know you, the stronger that
initial attraction gets, and the more I want to know. I want more from you.”

Marci sat up
and sighed. “I guess we should get going.”

“Not until you
understand why we can’t anymore. I’m serious about this. Once we get back to
Virginia, we can’t see each other unless you’re willing to admit to yourself
that there’s more to this than the physical,” Owen said.

“I’m the one
who said it’s done in the first place. I get it, okay?”

“Do you get it,
Marci? Do you really?”

“What are you
talking about?”

“You can lie
with words, but your actions…they tell a completely different story. I think
this is more than you’re letting on for you. I think you might just be in love
with me, too. And I think that scares the shit out of you.”

Marci jumped
out of bed and started looking for her underwear. “That’s just foolishness.”
She found her panties and tugged them on followed by her bra which she began
fastening. “What? ‘Cause I can’t get enough of the sex? What does that have to
do with ‘love’?” After putting savage air quotes around the word “love”, she
slipped her bra straps onto her shoulders and stalked around the room to grab
her jeans from the decrepit armchair. She wasn’t about to shower in that scary
bathroom.

“Is the sex all
you can’t get enough of? Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest. She
caught the incredulous look on his face from the corner of her eye.

“Yep. That’s
it.” She punctuated the curt words by yanking her pants over her hips and
fastening and zipping them.

“You can get
sex from plenty of other guys. You were doing it before.”

“And I’ll do it
again.” She pulled on her shirt.

Owen stood and
pulled on his jeans and a sweatshirt. “Suit yourself.”

Shoving her
arms through the sleeves of her parka, she hissed, “I knew this would happen.”

“Well, you
should be so proud of yourself for knowing everything,” he said.

“I should have
never agreed to this in the first place.”

“So why did
you?”

“Because
I—I—I—” But so many of the reasons would make him think he
was right.

“I’m sorry
about how this is ending,” Owen said. “But I’m not sorry it happened.” His face
lost that angry little sneer it’d held so far during their fight. He did look
genuinely sorry. Not that she cared. He’d gone and fouled up a perfectly good
thing. Well, there was a man for you. Always fouling up a perfectly good thing
in
one way
or another. “I wish things could have been
different. I wish I could have met you before that once that was enough. I
wouldn’t have broken your heart.”

“No, instead I
get to be the ass, right? I get to break yours.” Suddenly, Marci was choking
up. And she refused to cry in front of him. She grabbed her purse on her way to
the door.

“Marci, wait.”

But she didn’t.

She ran into
the ladies’ restroom in the building where the motel’s office was and slammed
the door shut. Now that she was safely away from Owen, she couldn’t stop the
tears any longer. They blurred her vision as she stared at her reflection in
the cloudy, smudged mirror above the sink.

Once Marci was
able to get it together, she walked out of the restroom to find Owen waiting
for her. He sat in one of the chairs in the office lobby. He was leaning
forward, elbows dug into his thighs, head down. She slipped on her sunglasses
before asking if he was ready to go. After grabbing slightly burnt coffee from
the motel’s office, they were headed back to the hospital by six A.M.

Marci stared at
Owen’s profile through her sunglasses as he drove. It really was a shame to
lose him. “Pity. You’re so friggin’ attractive,” Marci said. He didn’t turn to
face her, but she could see part of a smirk on his face from her side view of
it.

“There are more
important things than a pretty face,” he said bitterly. “What, is that all you
see when you look at me? You go on about how attractive I am all the time.”

“Of course that’s
not all I see.” He was one of the best people she knew. That was one of the things
that made all of this so incredibly tragic. She didn’t want to let him go, but
it was better this way.

“Right. A
pretty face and a dick.”

“Owen, don’t be
that way. It’s not that simple, and it’s not fair for you to try and make it
that simple.”

“Right,” he
said. She’d never heard him sound so pissed, never seen him look so angry.
“Let’s talk about what’s fair here. That’s what we should do.”

“I never
meant—I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“If it’s over,
it’s over. Why do we have to keep talking about it?” Owen snapped. Whoa. Where
had this complete jerk come from? It was almost as if she were sitting here
with Jeremy and not Owen.

You were the jerk first, fool
, came the
unbidden thought. She tried to push it away as she stared at Owen’s hands on
the steering wheel. He clenched it so tightly that it looked painful. He’d been
so good to her. He was better off without her anyway.

“I care about
you,” Marci said. “And I never lied to you.”

“Nope.” Owen shook
his head. “No more than you’ve lied to yourself.”

This was
all his
fault. He’d been the one to change things up. He’d
brought the dreaded “love” into the middle of what had been a perfectly good
arrangement. So why did she feel so guilty and sad all of a sudden?

No. Screw that.
Let him be angry with her. Fine. It was better this way.

A real
relationship between them would have crashed and burned eventually. All
romantic relationships did. She was saving them both time and devastation.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Owen had never
felt shittier in his life than he did when he rang Brynn’s doorbell, and Brynn
answered the door smiling and looking so sweet. This was the first time he’d
seen her since before Thanksgiving break. She’d wanted to cook him dinner that
night. The fact that she wanted to stay in made him a little wary of where she
wanted things to go. All he could think as they chatted about their
Thanksgiving breaks and she offered him a glass of wine was,
Marci really is gone. It’s really done. And
Brynn has no clue about any of it.
He couldn’t keep her in the dark any
longer. He’d spare her the gory details, but she had to know about Marci. Even
though Marci was no longer in his life, telling her about Marci seemed
important.

After they sat
down to an amazing dinner of linguine with clam sauce, Brynn brought the
subject up for him.

“You seem
distracted tonight.” She wiped her soft, full, pink lips on her napkin. “Is
everything okay?”

“Not exactly.”
He sat back in his chair and took a deep drink of wine.

She laughed a
little in a way that was clearly forced. “You’re scaring me, Owen.”

“There’s
someone.” He scratched the back of his neck. As he searched for the right way
to put it, he watched her face change. “Was
someone.
I
mean, I’m seeing. Was seeing. I mean
,
you weren’t the
only person I was seeing.”

“Oh.” Brynn
straightened her napkin over her nap and crimson crept into her cheeks. She sat
up taller in her chair, and her back went completely rigid. “Oh I see. I guess
we never discussed exclusivity.”

“Yeah,” Owen
said. “I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner.”

Brynn fiddled
with a bread stick. “Do you like her a lot? This other person?”

He heard her
unasked question:
Do you like her more
than you like me?
Instead of getting into all the complications and the
huge hole in his heart Marci had left, he said, “It’s over between us now.” He
thought back to the silent and miserable drive home from New Jersey with
Jeremy. Marci had one of Ronnie’s cousins give her a ride to the train station.
“I just thought you should know.”

“But you don’t
want it to be done.” It wasn’t a question. Brynn looked up from the breadstick,
and there was anticipation and fear in her startling cornflower blue eyes. She
was such a nice person. Things would be so much calmer with her. Yes, it would
be so much easier with Brynn. Why did he always try to make the impossible
work?
First with Kristin, then Marci.
Brynn was good
for him. He guessed Marci had been right about that, too.

“Let’s eat.
This fantastic dinner you made is getting cold.” Owen lifted a forkful of
linguine.

For the rest of
dinner, Brynn mostly watched Owen eat. Owen couldn’t really taste the food any
longer, but he kept up the charade. Their conversation was awkward and sparse
after that. They talked a little about their plans for winter break. But Owen
could tell that his revelation had settled heavily over her.

At the end of
the night, Brynn walked Owen to the front door. He wouldn’t let her come
farther than that because it was freezing outside.

“My a
capella
group is participating in a winter concert downtown after
the last night of finals. If you’ll still be in town, you should come,” she
said shyly.

He grinned.
“I’ll be around, and I’d love to.”
A normal activity with a
girl who wasn’t afraid to like him.
That’d be a good change.

She reached up
on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. He bent down and put his arm around
her waist and moved his lips over hers. He could feel her smiling against his
lips when they pulled away from each other a few moments later.

“Good night,
Owen,” she said, her whole face lit up with a glow.

“Good night,
Brynn,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Good.”

He caught a
last glimpse of her smile as she closed the door behind him. He wished he could
feel the same way after the kiss. He hadn’t gotten the rush from it that came
when there was a real spark there. But maybe he needed to leave those sparks
alone. After all, sparks led to flames and flames led to full-blown fires. And
fires led to burns.

“It’s better
this way,” he murmured to himself as he jogged out to his jeep, thinking he
might start to believe it more if he said it out loud.

#

“Come in,”
Marci called out in a watery voice to Tyler who had to be the knocker as they
were the only two home. They were a few days into finals, and Ronnie had made
special arrangements to take all of her finals electronically while remaining
in Jersey with her convalescing uncle.

As soon as he
walked through her door, Tyler’s jaw dropped. “Marci. What
happened
?”

Marci knew she
must’ve made a sight, sitting in the middle of the floor in her room,
surrounded by books and stacks of paper, tears streaming down her face. Tyler,
who’d never seen her cry before as she usually managed to hide her tears from
others whenever she couldn’t put a stop to them altogether, rushed over and
enveloped her in a hug she needed very much. Sitting next to her on the floor
and keeping an arm around her, he said, “Sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m finished.
I finally turned it in.” She’d pulled an all-nighter the night before,
finishing up her project for Professor
Ming
as it had
to be beyond the best Ming had ever seen in order to rescue her grade. She was
just sleep-deprived. She was very much in need of sleep.

“And?” Tyler
prodded. “You’re not going to tell me those are tears of joy. You haven’t been
yourself since you got home from Jersey. And you’re not going to tell me that
has
anything to do with school. You handle school. You make
it your bitch. So what’s really wrong?”

Marci rested
her forehead against Tyler’s shoulder. “Promise not to judge me?” She was
tired. Tired in so many ways. Definitely tired of holding this back.

“Do I ever?”

“He ruined it.”
Marci sniffled. “No I did, we ruined everything.”

“Huh?” The note
of utter confusion in Tyler’s voice reminded her of how well she’d hidden her
thing with Owen. Ronnie had figured it out in Jersey but hadn’t said much about
it as she’d obviously had bigger concerns to deal with at the time.

“I love you,
you know that?” Marci wrapped her arms around Tyler.

“I know.” He
squeezed her in response.

She had great
friends, but that didn’t take the place of…something was missing
without—without…Owen? Surely, Owen hadn’t been right about her supposed
phantom feelings for him. And even if he had been, they were both better off
this way. Owen deserved someone who’d let herself fall in love. Marci had no
interest in such things. There were more important things to her in life, and
there always would be. After she got through her dissertation, there would be
finding a good assistant professorship. Then publication. Then tenure.
Then department chair.
Then who knew after that? Yes, there
would always be more important things. Love, the romantic kind anyway, was just
an impediment to ambition.

Tyler held her
and told her it would all be okay until Marci was over the worst of her sobs
and her inner rant. Then she told him the entire Owen saga. When she was done,
he let out a low whistle.

“That doesn’t
sound anything like you,” Tyler said.

“And you see?
I’m paying the price now.” Marci took a deep yet hitching breath.

“Hm.” Tyler
pulled back from their hug just enough to peer down at her.

“What’s hm?”
Marci looked up at him, worried that he was going to side with Owen. That was
the last thing she needed right now. She needed to hear that she’d done the
right thing.

“But maybe it
was just what you needed,” Tyler said.

Marci opened
her mouth, ready to let him have it.

Tyler held up a
hand. “Hold on. Hear me out for a moment. You’ve been different for the past
few weeks. Happier.
More willing to take things in stride.
I don’t even think you’ve fought with your mother lately. And that is
astounding. Tell me I’m wrong.”

She didn’t want
him to be right, but he was.

“That doesn’t
necessarily have anything to do with Owen,” Marci said stubbornly, clinging to
the fallacy she needed. “I mean, I’ve just been so relieved to have that
project done for Professor Ming—”

“And how long
have you had that project done?” Tyler asked.

“A few weeks.”

“Oh really?”
Tyler gave her a stern look with his brown eyes.

“Yep,” Marci
said weakly.

“Then what were
you doing up all night last night?”

“I was just…”

“Yeah.”

“Just—”

“Uh-huh? I’m
listening.”

“Finishing up
my project for Professor Ming,” Marci said with a resigned sigh. “I don’t need
him to make me happy. Don’t you dare go thinking that.
”

“But he sure as
hell helped, didn’t he?”

“So what if he
did?” Marci shrugged. “It was going to end one day. These things always do.
Best to get out before I started lying to myself.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Get out before
you started lying to yourself.”

“Screw this. I
have a paper to finish.”

“Oh no no no. You
will
take a break. And you
will
get some sleep tonight.”

“I have work to
do.”

“Marci, it’s
ten o’clock at night. How much more work do you really think you’re going to
get done tonight? Why don’t you let me make you some tea, and we’ll make
cupcakes and put on a movie. And then you will get a good night’s sleep. Won’t
that be better?”

“Can I have
bourbon in the tea?” Marci asked.

Tyler laughed.
“You can have whatever you want tonight.”

“Then it might
be better.” Marci followed Tyler headed into the kitchen. How and why had she
gotten herself into this? She’d taken one look at Owen and let all common sense
fly out the window that was how. No matter how much she knew pretty boys were
trouble, she had wanted that one.
And big surprise.
Things had ended up the way she’d expected even if the route there hadn’t been
what she’d expected—she had gotten burned.

#

On the Saturday
evening after the last day of finals, Owen was headed out to Brynn’s concert
downtown before going over to his mom’s house. He pulled on his fleece and knit
hat before grabbing his keys. As he texted Brynn that he would be there soon,
he walked toward the front door. He hadn’t felt great since before his last fight
with Marci.
Back in New Jersey.
But things with Marci
would never lead anywhere constructive. The more distance he put between them,
the better he’d feel about it. He had to believe that was true. It was either
that or
lose
his mind.

Owen opened the
front door and nearly dropped his phone in shock. He had no idea how this could
happen. He could barely even utter the words, “What are you doing here?” She’d
nearly caused him heart failure just by standing
there
,
looking so perfect. Looking like the person he’d worshipped once. He would have
done anything for her once, and that once wasn’t so long ago.

Kristin stood
in front of him with her fist raised, still poised to knock on his door. Her
lips formed a
small,
perfect “O” of surprise. Her
blonde hair was swept up under a black beret. A slim fitting winter coat hugged
her petite frame. Her blue eyes were widened in shock and surprise. Finally,
she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her legs clung to his hips.

“Owen!” she
cried. “You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I had to do something to make
you talk to me. I had to see you.”

He set her back
on her feet and stepped away from her. “What’s going on here?”

“Baby, I was
wrong. You have no idea how sorry I am, how much I’ve missed you. We need to
talk. Do you have a minute?” She tugged off her gloves.

He noticed that
her cold-reddened left ring finger was bare. The large rock she’d sent a
picture message of to him and everybody else in the address book on her phone
it seemed was gone.

“Where’s
Justin?” He willed his voice to come off as neutral, but he wasn’t sure he
pulled it off.

“Gone,” was all
Kristin said. “If you let me in, we can talk about it.” She took a step toward
him and his apartment.

“I don’t know,
Kristin.”

“Please, Owen.
After four years together, can’t you spare me a few minutes?”

Owen was in a
bad place. This was the worst possible time for this. When he was hurting and
confused and angry. He just wasn’t in a place of good judgment. Kristin had
shown up at the worst possible time she could have done so.

There was
comfort in going back to what was familiar. And he’d loved her once. That once
hadn’t been so long ago. In any case, she was right. He should at least hear
her out. He stepped back from the door, and she walked into the apartment.
As he followed her over to the couch in the living room, he texted
Brynn that he was going to be late as something had come up.

“Is Dante
here?” Kristin looked around warily. Kristin and Dante had never gotten along.
She thought Dante was shifty, and Dante was pretty sure Kristin was out to
steal Owen’s soul.

“Nah,” Owen
said. “He’s already gone to Florida for the break.”

Kristin nodded
and perched on the couch. She patted the cushion next to her. Owen sat beside
her.