Chapter 25
Luke
Annie left before I woke up this morning for her very first day of her vet school rotations. She has a few weeks at her school’s teaching hospital and then a few weeks at the zoo to start off her long year of rotating between different places to work under all kinds of veterinarians.
I made sure her stuff for her matcha was out and ready for her before I went to sleep last night, along with her lunch packed and a note wishing her luck.
The events of last night are still a fresh wound on my skin, and I can’t stop thinking of everything that was thrown out in the open after so many years.
There’s a stinging pain at the thought of how one night had such an impact on Annie and me, but that pain reminds me that it’s not all in the past.
Something I have only been able to imagine, but it is finally a reality: Annie said she never stopped loving me.
She loves me.
I get to be hers.
And I’m not letting anything get between us this time around.
After the surprise of not only my rose tattoo but her rose tattoo, we spent the night on the couch with the Sunday Dinner leftovers and talked about anything and everything.
It was the first time since we were teenagers that we just let the conversation ebb and flow however it felt right, talking about anything and everything—the conversation moving through our past, our present, even our future—almost like we were making up for lost time. And because it’s us, we still bickered and argued, flirted and teased, but it would’ve felt wrong without it.
Annie and I have been able to see what the other has been up to over the years, sharing celebrations, holidays, birthdays, and achievements with the Lenny’s crew, but it has always been from afar.
Last night, she didn’t feel so far away anymore.
We talked until the sun set; Annie couldn’t keep her eyes open, tired from the emotional weekend and in need of rest for her first day. Her head was on my lap as I told her that I was going to call my dad and tell him my decision to not take the position at his firm.
Her eyes looked heavy as she listened, reaching for my hand that was idly drawing circles on her arm, and she told me she was proud of me.
I could’ve talked to her all night, but it was the eve of a very big day for her. I walked her to the guest room, hoping she would let me follow her in. She didn’t, but she kissed me goodnight, and that was enough for me.
For now.
It felt like the beginning of something new and exciting, and I have to keep reminding myself that we can’t just pick up where we left off, no matter how much I want to. We finally have our second chance, and we need to do things right this time.
We were kids the first time around, latching on to each other as we grew up because it felt safe in the midst of the madness unfolding around us. Falling in love with Annie was as natural and seamless as breathing while losing her felt like the ground was crumbling from beneath me.
I lean back in Emmett’s desk chair, my mind not where it needs to be to finalize this schedule. I’ve been staring at my laptop screen all morning, my mind going back and forth between wishing I could go back and change what happened in the past to being somewhat thankful for it.
I’ve never been someone to waste time being angry about something out of my control. I try to stay positive, see the bright side of things, or find the silver linings—I always have. Even through all the shit with my parents and the time I spent chasing a goal that was never mine to begin with. I like to think that the choices I made brought me to where I am supposed to be.
Without my mom’s affair and my dad taking me away from my biological father, I wouldn’t have been able to grow up with Bennett and Caleb.
Without the time I spent in college and law school, I never would have ended up at Lenny’s or found Emmett, Drew, Eddie, and Mia.
I know I would’ve found Annie. I’ll find her in each and every lifetime.
There’s a silver lining in all of it.
And yet, I can’t help but feel this intense anger thinking about that night at Grant’s. I was taken advantage of that night by a girl who had the sole purpose of hurting the person who mattered most to me.
I don’t like to hold grudges, but being used as a pawn in Devin’s sick game isn’t something I can easily get over, especially since it cost me so much for so long .
It would be easy to blame Annie for not telling me sooner. She could have come to me that night, or even the next morning—hell, she could’ve told me when I asked her at Lenny’s months later—but I can’t.
I can’t blame her for protecting herself.
I can’t blame her for doing what she thought was best.
Especially not when I didn’t give her a choice on whether or not she could keep me out of her life.
Knowing Annie, how strong she is, how much she’s overcome, how many odds were working against her, I can’t imagine the pain she must have felt that night when she thought I cheated on her.
It’s easy to think that cheating happens, that people get over it. But it wasn’t just that, not for Annie. I was the only person she let herself believe wasn’t going to bail when things got hard. She let me see her, every part of her, in ways that no one else had. We grew up together, supported each other, fell in love with one another, and she thought I was throwing that all away.
How could I fault her for protecting herself? For doing what she had to. For finally putting her and her feelings first, above anything and everyone else.
I don’t blame her for these past seven years, for the years we could have spent together, because I got to fall more in love with the person she became, the person she grew into—the bold, strong, confident woman who speaks her mind and takes what she deserves.
Devin, on the other hand, is easy to blame.
Not only for what she did to me, as hurtful and problematic as it was, but for what she did to Annie. For hurting her out of spite and selfishness, and for not caring about the lasting effects her actions would have.
I exhale, feeling like Annie and I deserve to rid ourselves from this night that has haunted us for all these years; that starts with confronting Devin and getting this weight off our shoulders.
My phone buzzes on the desk next to my laptop, bringing me back to the moment.
I glance at the screen, seeing a text from Caleb and a text from Bennett. Caleb’s text being a reminder that I promised to talk to my father today about my decision. Bennett’s text wishing me luck about the former.
I pick up my phone, ready to get this conversation over it, when my phone rings.
“Hey, Ben, I just saw your text, and no I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“Figured maybe you could use a pep talk before you dialed up our dear old dad,” he jokes, and it genuinely makes me laugh. I like to think that I got my positivity and laid-back demeanor from Bennett, Caleb being the more responsible and on-top-of-things as the oldest brother. “Caleb said you still haven’t called him.”
“It’s barely nine in the morning, my day started an hour ago.”
“You know Caleb, always the go-getter. Plus, I wouldn’t blame you for putting it off. Speaking from experience, it’s not an easy conversation to have.”
When Bennett told my dad that he was quitting law school, I was still in high school, and I remember thinking a gun went off for how loud my dad’s voice boomed at my brother. It was an all-out screaming match for hours, both going taking turns throwing insults until Caleb got the two of them to calm down.
I haven’t seen Bennett and my father in the same room together since that night, and I doubt that will be changing anytime soon.
I’m not worried, though. I’m not Daniel Owen’s biological son like Bennett and like Caleb. They were the ones who were bound to follow his footsteps, not me. I’m prepared for an uncomfortable conversation that further proves I’m a disappointment in the eyes of my father, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.
I’ve made my peace with it. I have the family that matters to me, and what Daniel Owens thinks of me is no longer a concern of mine—which is exactly why I need to stop putting off this call.
“I’m not worried,” I reply, “I have much more important things to deal with than how dad will take the news.”
“Is one of these important things making progress with figuring out what happened with Annie?” Bennett asks, and I don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice.
Since I met him and Jack for breakfast about a month ago, I’ve kept Bennett updated on my courtship of Annie. The last update I gave him was from Friday when she beat the shit out of Ava’s boyfriend’s truck, and I swear Bennett laughed for a whole five minutes. Partly at the situation but also at how much of a lovesick puppy I sounded like when I told him how she did it because the prick pushed me.
What happened after we went home that night, I kept to myself.
“About that,” I start, aimlessly spinning a pen I found on Emmett’s desk around my fingers. “I think I finally did it.”
“You got her back?” Bennett asks with a hopeful tone in his voice as if this affects him as much as it does me.
“I got her back, man,” I answer, a huge smile on my face. “Everything about the night she left and why she did was thrown out into the open. She apologized, even though she really didn’t have to, and I told her I was hers if she was willing to have me. ”
“Congrats, little brother. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Ben. We still have shit to work through considering so much has changed since the last time we were together, but I have a good feeling.”
“Me too. I’m glad to see you taking charge of your life, with Annie and this stuff with Dad. You got your whole life ahead of you, and I’m glad to see you living life for you .”
“It feels good. And it’ll feel better once this stuff with Dad is off my shoulders, which I should really get to.”
“Right, don’t let me keep you. Just wanted to check-in. Seriously, Luke, I’m proud of you.”
My throat feels tight at the words I don’t hear often. Words I heard from Annie last night, words I’m hearing now from my brother, words I went my whole life wishing to hear.
I clear my throat. “Thanks, I appreciate you saying that,” I say, hoping Bennett hears the sincerity in my words. “I’ll let you know how it goes with Dad,” I add before we say our goodbyes, and I hang up.
Before I lose the nerve, knowing that I won’t feel like this after hanging up on the upcoming phone call, I dial my dad at his office, figuring I’ll have a better chance of reaching him if I call him at work than on his cell.
“Owens & Son’s. This is Maria speaking. How may I help you?” I tell my dad’s assistant who’s calling, and she puts me on hold before transferring me to him. I inhale while I wait, mentally preparing myself for the disappointment I’m about to face.
The phone call clicks off hold. “Luke?” I hear my dad’s assistant say.
“Still here,” I answer.
“Your dad asked what this call was referring to?” she asks, and my grip on my phone tightens.
He can’t even take my goddamn phone call?
I pinch the bridge of my nose, leaning back in Emmett’s desk chair. “It’s about my position at the firm,” I say, trying to keep my voice polite and even.
“He assumed so,” Maria replies. “He asked me to confirm whether you will be accepting the position or not.”
My annoyance gets the best of me. “Can he not ask me this himself?”
“Your dad is very busy. If you’d like, I can take a message and he can call you back when he has a chance.”
I stand up from where I’m sitting, my feet pacing back and forth across Emmett’s office. The annoyance I feel prickling all over my skin begins to burn, frustration making it hard to see straight.
I was stupid and naive enough to think I was at least worth more to him than this —that I deserved the decency of something as simple as a conversation.
My feet pause, stopping me from pacing a hole in the floor, and I shake my head, knowing that I really should be diagnosed clinically insane, because why did I think that doing this—expecting my father to see me as more than a bother, a problem, a burden —over and over again would lead me to different results.
“No,” I say into the phone, wishing things could be different but knowing they never will be. “I will not be taking the position at the firm.”
I hang up the phone before I can even hear if Maria says anything, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s such an ugly feeling, holding onto hope that you mean something to someone you care— cared— about .
At least there’s a silver lining in all of this.
Today marks the last time I will ever have to deal with Daniel Owens.