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Authors: Shae Scott

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BOOK: Unfinished
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Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

Owen and I
moved around the kitchen making dinner.  He’d had the cabin stocked, so we only
had to leave our cocoon if we really wanted to. So far we hadn’t. I chopped
some vegetables, while Owen sautéed some chicken on the fancy professional
stove. This kitchen was a dream. 

I sipped my
wine, getting caught up in just watching him. It was so sexy to me when he
cooked.  It was such an ordinary act, but his confidence was so alluring that I
got lost in it sometimes. He turned around and caught me staring.  He gave me a
stern look and pointed his spatula at me. “Get to chopping,” he teased. I
laughed and stuck my tongue out at him for good measure.

We moved about,
making dinner in comfortable silence.  I was content after our day together.  I
was relaxed and loose from an afternoon in bed where Owen had taken exceptional
care of me.  I smiled to myself as flashes of memory came to me.  I didn’t
think I’d ever get enough of him.  I had to push the memory away before it had
me begging him to do it all over again.  Surely, I could make it through a meal
without ripping his clothes off.  The thought made me laugh quietly to myself. 
He flashed me a questioning look, but I didn’t explain.

Dinner was
amazing. We sat side by side on the floor at the coffee table in the living
room, enjoying the roar of the fire. As we ate, Owen asked me questions about
myself like he used to when we were getting reacquainted.  It was his favorite
game and I loved playing it with him.  We would go back and forth with
questions, sometimes rapid-fire-style. Other times, a question would lead us
off into a deeper conversation.

“What is your
favorite cookie?” he asked. He was playful and I loved the way the glow of the
fire caught his eyes. It was moments like these when I saw my old Owen. I could
almost imagine us sitting on the tailgate of his truck, looking out at the
lake.  All we were missing was his guitar.

“Um…snickerdoodles,”
I said confidently.  He nodded, accepting my answer.  “You?”

“Oatmeal raisin.”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust.  “What? No oatmeal raisin?” He seemed a little
offended at my reaction.

“Gross. I hate
raisins.”

“You hate
raisins?  How can you hate raisins? They are like little sweet drops of
goodness.” He was teasing me. 

I shook my
head, keeping the sour look on my face.  “No way. Raisins are just the result
of the cruel and unusual treatment of grapes. I mean, let the grapes be
grapes.  Let them serve their natural purpose…Let them grow up and be wine,” I
smiled as I lifted my glass into a toast. He laughed.

“Who knew you
to be such an anti-raisin-ite,” he sounded out the word as he made it up on the
spot. 

“Proud of it. 
It goes with all fruit.  Leave it alone.  Why must we dry it out and make it
all sad and weird.  I don’t get it.  Let the fruit be fruit.” I caught the
smirk he was trying really hard to keep at bay. 

“Really?  I
love dried fruit.  It’s good.  What if you need the fruit to last a long time? 
What if you decide to go on a week long hike or something?” 

“Don’t take
fruit.  You can survive a week without it.  Take some jerky.  Stay home.
Starve.” I shrugged, nonchalant, for good measure and Owen started laughing, a
deep belly laugh. I couldn’t help but laugh with him.  I knew he loved to get
me riled up about the silliest of things. He had a way of making a silly
conversation seem important and I loved that we could go on for hours on a
subject so trivial. 

“Okay, okay…so
no dried fruit.  I get it,” he said, giving in.

“I’ll still
make you oatmeal raisin cookies if you really want them.” I leaned in and
kissed his cheek. “I love you that much.”

“You mean I
outrank the ban on raisins?”

“Just barely,”
I deadpanned.

 

 

 

The next day
we ventured out and explored the town.  We went in and out of little shops, had
lunch with a spectacular view of the mountains.  We’d considered skiing, but we
both agreed that I probably wouldn’t make it out alive. As we headed back to
the cabin, Owen suggested that we take the night and go to dinner.

“Let’s get
dressed up. I want to take you out and show you off a little.” He gave me a
smile, and it warmed me all over. 

“Alright.  It
will give me a reason to wear that dress I bought today,” I agreed.  At this,
his eyes lit up. 

“I was hoping
that you’d say that,” he murmured, taking my hand in his and lifting it to his
lips.  It sent sparks throughout my body and had me humming.

 

My dress was
simple and black, but it was cut to accentuate my best assets.  I loved the way
that the smooth material felt against my skin.  Paired with the electricity
that danced across the surface of my skin with each touch Owen gave, I was a
ball of energy as we had dinner. 

“I don’t think
we’ve ever done this…not really,” he said.  His hand rested over mine, keeping
us connected.  “It’s nice to take you out.  You look beautiful tonight.” His
gaze held mine and I felt the build of anticipation of what the rest of the
night would bring.  As much as I liked being out with him, I would have been
just as happy snuggled up with him on a couch back at the cabin.

“You look
pretty nice yourself,” I smiled, letting my eyes take him in. Sitting here with
him I felt lucky.  Lucky to have him back in my life, lucky that we were
together and lucky that I felt so protected and safe here with him.  I wanted
to stay here forever.  The real world seemed so far away from us here, and the
peacefulness of our bubble was just what we had needed.

After dinner
we ended up at a small club with a band.  It was small and quaint and full of
locals.  We found a small table near the dance floor and ordered some wine as
the band crooned out some of the classics.  We sat close, so close that I was
surrounded by his scent. 

When the music
changed into the familiar opening notes of  “All of Me” by John Legend I saw a
light flash in Owen’s eyes.  “This is our song.  We have to dance.” He took my
hand and had me pulled to my feet before I could object. 

“We have a
song?” I asked, as he led me out onto the floor. He pulled me close to him, our
bodies connected at every point.  I lay my head against his chest, falling
under the spell of the rhythm of his heartbeat. “I didn’t know we had a song,”
I murmured softly against his chest. 

“We danced to
this that night at the reunion.  Every time I hear it I think of us.”  His voice
was low and deep and it sent hungry shivers through me. When he sang part of
the lyrics to me, I about melted into a pool of goo at his feet. 
My worst
distraction
I couldn’t help but smile at that line.  My man, who fought so
hard against getting distracted, was now embracing it, embracing me, and I
couldn’t be happier.

“I love you,”
he breathed against my throat.  “I will spend every day trying to show you how
much you’ve changed me,” he admitted.  I felt my heart fill with emotion as I
looked up into his deep gray eyes. 

“I love you. 
I always have,” I admitted.  I saw the shy smile that I loved so much touch his
lips right before I kissed him.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

 

Coming back to
the real world after our time in Colorado was a little bit like waking up from
a really good dream.  I still had the haze of our time together wrapped around
me and it made adjusting to the brutal sting of normal a little rough.  The
closer I got to him, the deeper that I fell into this relationship and let it
consume me, the harder it was to have him so far away.  I could hardly remember
the days when I thought the distance between us was a good thing.  It wasn’t. 
It was hard as hell and I hated every moment of it. 

I did my best to
focus on work during the day and I made plans with Cassie and the girls on the
weekends to soften the ache of not having him around. We were doing okay.  We
were taking this long distance love and making it work for us.  We decided that
we would see each other every two weeks.  It was asking a lot, to travel seven
hours for just a couple of nights together, but it was worth it.

Still, I
wasn’t sure how it would pan out.  Owen was busy with work.  The promise of
making partner still hung in the air and he was dancing the line of dishonesty
with his boss, Max.  He’d told Anna about us.  He’d told her that they needed
to figure out a way to end what was between them and both still keep the
success that their relationship had provided them.  She wasn’t happy about it.
She was convinced that “breaking up” was going to ruin things for both of
them.  She was giving him a lot of shit for it and it was stressing him out. 
It was hard to hear about, but I guess I should be happy that he was telling me
about it.  He’d promised me honesty, and even though it was sometimes hard to
listen to, I was still grateful for it.  It kept me from asking too many
questions or making up alternate realities in my head.

It was late
when my phone rang with the familiar ring.  It still made my heart flip when I
heard it.  I was instantly alerted, however, when I heard his voice.  He
sounded weary, defeated, and it made me hurt for him. I wished I could be there
with him, take his head and rest it in my lap, run my hands through his hair
and try to comfort him somehow. It was moments like this, that I especially
hated being so far apart from him.

“You okay?” I
asked, keeping my voice soft.  I heard him let out a breath and imagined him
sinking back against the cushions in his couch, suit rumpled from a long day.

“I guess. 
Rough day,” he admitted. I know he wasn’t in front of me, but the image of him
was so clear in my mind. I could almost see the stress around his eyes, the sag
of his normally strong shoulders.  I imagined his hair was rumpled from running
his hands though it like he did when he was frustrated. I waited for him to
continue.

“You wanna
tell me about it?” I asked. I didn’t want to push him, but I needed to be here
for him.

He sighed and
took a long moment before he answered.  “It’s Anna.”

My breath
caught. I wasn’t sure what to say to that.  I still felt like I had to tread
carefully when it came to his arrangement with Anna.  He knew I was losing
patience with the situation.  I wanted to be understanding and support him
because his promotion was tied to the whole thing and I knew how important it
all was for him. The whole situation just grated on my nerves.  To be honest, I
didn’t understand it.  Why was he letting her or her father dictate his
personal life?  He was good at his job.  Would Max really keep him from partner
if he wasn’t dating Anna?  Couldn’t they see through the charade?  That
question haunted me. Because if they didn’t, did that mean that they were
playing the part exceptionally well?  I didn’t want to think about what that
would require. 

“What is she
doing now?” I asked cautiously.  I tried not to let the venom I was feeling
seep into my voice, but I knew I wasn’t much at fooling him. 

“She’s just
being difficult.  She is mad because I told her I wasn’t going to be going to
her dad’s gala this year.  It’s for the charity that he started.  I told her I
wasn't going and she just let into me. Same shit. I’m ruining her life.  I’m so
tired of this shit, Ally.  I should just march into Max’s office and tell him the
truth.”

“Why don’t
you?” I asked.  I knew why. But my feathers were ruffled. I didn’t know Anna,
but I was tired of her playing such a roll in this relationship.

“Damn it,
Ally. You know I would if I could.” His voice was hard and full of frustration.
I knew I shouldn’t push him.  “I don’t know what to do.  I’m sick of dealing
with all of this.  I have been honest with her.  I told her she had a month to
figure it all out or I was going to take care of it.  She is dragging her
feet.  Hell, I was in Max’s office today and she came in and damn near tried to
kiss me.  Told Max that we’d gone away together for the weekend.  I can’t stand
the lying anymore.  I need this to be over.”  I kept telling myself that I was
lucky that he was being straight forward with me, but hearing these stories was
hard. I remained quiet. “I didn’t kiss her,” he said, knowing that the thought
was stuck in my head.

“I’m sorry
you’re having to deal with it.  I want it to be over too.  I know my
frustrations don’t help you any, I just can’t help it. I don’t like sharing
you,” I admitted.

“You aren’t
sharing me.  I’m not with her. Not at all.” His voice had a hard edge to it. 
It was the frustration coming through.  I wasn’t making this easy for him, I
was letting my emotions get the best of me and it was making the situation
harder than it had to be.

“I know. I’m
sorry.” I didn’t want to get in another fight with him. Distance made any
argument seem worse.  And honestly, I didn’t want to fight about Anna again.

“No, I’m
sorry. I’m just tired.  I just feel like I’m being pulled in so many different
directions and they are keeping me from what I really want.  I don’t want to be
doing this to you. To us.  The whole thing is just a mess.  She’s just being
such a bitch,” he groaned. 

“It’s going to
be fine. We’ll get through it.  It’s almost over,” I said, trying to be
optimistic.

“Ally, I have
to go to this Gala.  I can’t get out of it. I don’t want to go.  But it’s Max’s
baby and with Anna so up in the air, not being there could really be detrimental. 
I’m sorry. I have to go,” he said.  This is what he had been afraid to tell me.
I could tell most of his stress stemmed from this confession.

“Owen. It’s
fine.  So you go to the event.  You dress up, you smile and make friends and
then you go home.  I get it.  I do.  I trust you.  It’s one night.” I wanted to
support him. Yeah, it sucked that he had to go to this thing with Anna. I
didn’t like it. It drove me bat shit crazy, but I was trying to be patient.

“It’s next
Saturday.”

I froze.  My
birthday.

“Saturday,” I
repeated.  I wanted him to take it back.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” It took
a moment for it all to sink in, the disappointment, the anger at Anna and the
whole situation, the realization that I was once again being put second. It
hurt, and I hated that it did. The only thing I wanted for my birthday was to
spend it with him. And now he was going to be absent.  Worse, he was going to
be spending my birthday with
her
.  I was his real girlfriend, but he was
going to be spending my birthday with his fake one. 

“Yeah.  Oh.”
He sounded like he was preparing himself for a fight.  And while I knew that
the anger was going to come, my first instinct was just hurt and
disappointment.  The feeling of second place hit me hard and I felt myself
begin to shut down, as my insecurities began to flood me.  He was choosing
her.  He was choosing work. Again.  I was never going to be first on his list. 
He’d tried to tell me how many times?  When would I learn? When would I get it
and stop fooling myself?

“So you won’t
be here?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.  I wanted him to
deliver the final blow.

“I’m sorry.
You know I want to be there.  I tried to get out of it.”

I felt tears
prick my eyes and took a deep breath so he couldn’t hear it in my voice. I
didn’t want to give him that hurt.  It was bad enough that he had that power
over me, but I wasn’t about to remind him of it.

“You could be
here if you wanted to be.” My voice came out icy. Good. The anger was starting
to show up.  I needed it or I would turn into a pathetic crying mess. “But you
are choosing to stay there. Choosing her.”

“I’m not
choosing her. Don’t you know how much I want to be there for you?  I don’t want
to miss your party, or your birthday. You are where I want to be, but this is
important too.”

“Obviously,” I
said bitterly.

He sighed
dramatically. “Ally.  Enough.  I know this hurts you. I know that you are
pissed and you have every right to be. But I can’t deal with this right now. I
have too much on my mind and too much shit to figure out without having to deal
with one of your meltdowns.”

I sat in shock
for a moment. Did he really just say that? Where did he get off with making me
the bad guy in this situation?  I was completely entitled to my feelings.  He
was deserting me on my birthday…the woman he was supposed to be in love with. Deserting
me to spend the night schmoozing his boss and his make believe girlfriend.  And
he had the nerve to accuse me of having a meltdown when I had a negative reaction
to the news? 

“You’re right,
Owen.  I wouldn’t want my feelings to get in the way of your success and your
stupid job.  So don’t worry about me.  Just go to your stupid gala and make
your millions.  I don’t need you there.  And right now…I don’t even want you
there anymore.” I hung up then, before the angry tears could betray me. 

 

 

*****

 

 

I was still
angry when I got to work the next morning. I hadn’t slept much.  I had been too
busy playing the conversation over and over again in my head.  I wasn’t used to
this side of Owen.  He wasn’t typically mean, even when he was frustrated.  The
idea that he’d been that way to me was hard to deal with.  It didn’t match the
man that I made him out to be.  Maybe that was my fault, for putting him on a
pedestal, but I didn’t like this side of him.  This was the hard man that other
people saw, not the one I’d known. 

I grumbled as
Cassie met me in the hall and walked with me to my office. “What’s wrong with
you?” she asked giving me a concerned look.  I knew my eyes were showing the
lack of sleep.  My concealer could only hide so much. 

“My boyfriend
is an asshole,” I said simply.  She raised an eyebrow, clearly needing more to
the story.  We rounded the corner and I flipped on the light to my office. 
Sitting on my desk was a massive bouquet of flowers.  The arrangement was
obnoxiously extravagant.  I sighed, annoyed. 

“Whoa! He must
have really screwed up. Look at that thing. What happened?” She walked towards
the flowers and handed me the card as she took a whiff.  “They smell amazing,”
she confirmed. 

I sat down at
my desk and opened the card, prepared to dismiss anything that was written on
it.

I fucked
up.  I’m sorry.
 

Well, that
pretty much covered it. 

I had just
finished telling Cassie about the night before when my phone lit up with an
incoming call.  “Is that him?” she asked. I nodded, deciding if I was going to
answer it. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk to him yet. I wasn’t sure what
I wanted to say. “Talk to him, Al.  If you don’t, you’ll worry about it all
day.  Come find me later and tell me how it went.” She walked out of the office
and pulled the door closed behind her.

I took a deep
breath and answered. 

“I’m sorry, baby. 
I really fucked up last night.  I was feeling sorry for myself and I took it
out on you when you held me accountable like you should have. I owe you more
than what I gave you last night. I was an asshole and I’m sorry.” His words
came out fast, as if he were afraid I wasn’t going to let him finish. Granted,
I had hung up on him last night. 

“Owen, I know
that you are in a tough spot.  But you have to remember that I am in this too.
Each time you choose to be with them it makes me feel like I am second best.
That may be irrational, but it’s how I felt and the fact that you dismissed
that and made me feel like I was just a bother for it, pissed me off. Don’t
take me for granted.  Don’t belittle my feelings.  You know being at my
birthday party isn’t the issue.  I wanted you here because I wanted to share
the day with you.  I want you here when I have things going on in my life.  I
want you to want to be here.  It hurt to hear that you weren’t going to be
here, but it hurt more for you to belittle my feelings.”  I was proud that I
had remained strong and somehow got my words out there. 

“I know.  I
know.  Shit, Ally.  I don’t want to hurt you.  I don’t want to be the one who
is disappointing you.  It’s the whole reason I tried to stay away from you at
first.  I was just proving that to both of us. I don’t want to take you for
granted.  But I have to finish what I started.  I have to secure this deal,
even if it takes me away from where I want to be.”  He was being wishy-washy
again.  Every time that he showed me that vulnerable side, he would shift back
to the selfish side, the one who put success above everything else.  Maybe he
would never change. Maybe I would always come in second.

“I don’t want
to fight about it.  You’ve told me what you have to do. I’ve told you how I
feel about it.  It is what it is.  We’ll just move forward.” My voice remained
even, I was willing to let it go for the sake of my sanity, but I wasn’t ready
to brush it away completely. 

“I don’t want
to hurt you.” His voice was soft, but I could hear the turmoil behind his
words. 

BOOK: Unfinished
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