30. Lila
Lila
Iwoke nestled in Owen’s arms, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against my back nearly pulling me under again.
Last night had been intense. Emotionally and physically. If I could, I’d bottle up this feeling of contentment and save it for the lonely days ahead. Eventually, we’d have to say goodbye. There was no way around it. And I wasn’t sure how I’d survive it.
So much had changed for me since Owen had come to town. For years, I’d been pushing myself to grow and evolve, to move beyond the girl I used to be. Owen may not have known it, but he’d helped me realize that the woman I wanted to become had always been a part of me.
The first time I’d ever been complimented on my intelligence, I was twenty-two years old. I’d dropped out of school to follow Cole to Indiana, where he was playing for an ECHL team.
We’d been broken up for a bit, but he begged me to take him back.
Said he needed me. Swore he’d never make it in the pros without me.
So, like a stupid, silly girl, I caved. College had not been going well for me anyway.
Even with the pageant scholarship money, I’d struggled to pay my tuition, and I hated the merchandising courses I was taking.
So rather than buckling down and working hard, I was more focused on partying with a group of sorority girls I’d befriended.
Leaving with Cole seemed like an adult decision.
The two of us, in a new city, following our dreams. In reality, we were chasing his dream, but he made me feel like I was an important part of it, even if I was nothing more than his support.
There to cook for him and have protein smoothies waiting when he got home from practice and always present to cheer him on from the stands.
I got bored quickly, so I enrolled at a local community college, hoping to find something that interested me.
I was a solid B student in high school, which my mom had celebrated. Her expectations for my grades were low, just as her parents’ had been for her. Plus, finding time to study was challenging when I spent all my free time dancing, cheerleading, and traveling on the pageant circuit.
“You’re beautiful,” she’d always say. “You don’t need to be smart. Your future is so far away from here. The first step is just getting out.”
And I’d believed her. No one on earth loved me as much as my mother. It had taken a long time to realize just how misguided she had been.
At the community college in Indiana, I was required to take a math assessment to enroll.
I aced the first test, and then they gave me a harder one.
Eventually, one professor, Ms. Lipman, asked me to meet with her.
She went on and on about how I had the makings of an excellent math student.
She encouraged me to enroll in calculus and accounting and consider pursuing a business degree.
No one had ever told me I was smart before that day. Not because I wasn’t, but because the world saw me as nothing more than a pretty face. But on that day, in that dingy office, I felt like I was capable of doing something worthwhile.
When we moved to Florida, I transferred my credits and got serious about earning my degree.
Cole didn’t understand why I bothered with school or why I picked up a waitressing job to pay for it.
The job meant I couldn’t attend all of his games, but for the first time in my life, I was pursuing something for myself rather than living to please others.
The idea of working for nonprofits inspired and motivated me. So I researched and I studied the best way to go about making a difference in the world.
Then I made myself a promise. I was creating a life for myself. I’d use my brain and my work ethic rather than clinging to a man or getting by on my looks.
So where did that leave Owen?
A shiver worked its way through me as he nuzzled into me and dropped a soft kiss on my naked shoulder. It would be so easy to fall in love with him. He was older and successful and already established. I’d ridden on Cole’s coattails for years, but I had too much respect for myself to do that again.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him so I was sprawled out on his chest.
God, he was so warm and strong, and being here with him made all my baggage seem insignificant.
“I want to talk about last night,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
My stomach sank. Owen was a mature, adult man.
Of course he wanted to openly discuss things.
In most circumstances, I would find that scorching hot.
Accountability and honesty were major turn-ons.
But for now, I wanted to run and hide from my feelings.
I wanted to live in this little bubble, here in his cabin, and ignore real life.
So I did what any girl in my position would do. I created a diversion.
I kissed his neck, then worked my way to his earlobe and nipped at it. “Can you give a girl some coffee first?”
While he put the coffee on, I dressed in yesterday’s clothes, like I was putting on armor to fortify myself against what he’d say. We stood in the kitchen, sipping coffee silently while my mind raced and I dug deep for courage.
I’d come over here. I’d made the big gesture. That meant I should be the one to step up and make this right.
“I know you want an explanation.” I shifted on my feet, pushing back the trepidation rolling through me as I searched for the right words. Avoidance and a smile, my go-to coping mechanism, wouldn’t cut it here.
He set his mug on the countertop and sighed. “I do. You were very clear in Boston, and I’m struggling with the mixed signals.”
Yup. I deserved this.
I choked back the nerves clawing their way up my throat.
“I meant what I said. I needed to see you—I was desperate to see you. You see me. And being with you makes me happy, protected. I’ve tried so hard to fight the pull between us.
I’ve tried so hard to be friends and colleagues and nothing more. ”
I tucked my chin and searched my coffee for the courage to continue rather than give up and fall into his arms and stay there forever.
“But then you showed up and chopped wood at my house. You took care of me. You got to know my mom. And you show me every day what a kind and compassionate person you are.”
A slow smirk spread across his face. “So you’re telling me this is my fault?”
I crossed my free arm over my chest and huffed, patently ignoring the incredible view of his naked chest. How dare he stand there in his sweatpants and nothing else and smirk at me like that?
“Can you put a shirt on?”
He cocked a brow, and that grin grew. “Why?”
“Because I’m trying to have an adult conversation, and you’re not making it easy.”
He crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge. Fuck me. As if I needed that visual.
“You’re doing great so far. Say what you need to say.”
I paced from the kitchen into the living space, taking a moment to marvel at the view of the mountains while I collected my thoughts. I could do this. I needed to do this.
Honesty. Vulnerability.
But the desire to tell Owen what he wanted to hear was strong. The desire to turn this around and make it about him. To hide my messy thoughts and feelings.
Fuck, growth was painful.
“I want to be with you,” I said softly. “I don’t want to fight it anymore. But it can’t last. I know it will hurt when it’s over, but it would hurt more to lose this time with you.”
He ate up the space between us in three long strides and rested his hands on my shoulders. Dipping his chin, he searched my face, his blue eyes burning with intensity. “You keep saying it has to end, yet it hasn’t even begun. Can’t we just see what happens?”
I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. “Can we just take the time we have and make the most of it? Before you sell the business and go back to Boston and before I start school in New York. Whatever it is, however long we have, let’s take it and cherish it.”
He angled in and kissed my head in response.
It would be so easy to fall into his arms and let him tell me that we could be together forever. But I was no longer the kind of woman who stood on the sidelines, who gave up my dreams so another could pursue their own.
He pulled me in and pressed his lips to the crown of my head. We stayed like that, his arms around my shoulders, our bodies close, for a few moments. Even the silence was comforting when he held me.
“Okay,” he whispered into my hair. “I’ll give you all the time we have left. I respect your wishes. I want you to go to New York. When the time comes, I’ll step aside and cheer for you from the sidelines.”
My gut clenched. He was saying the right words, but they felt wrong.
I looked up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. But before I can dive into this completely, I need to know what happened between you and Cole.”
I sucked in a breath, and my stomach twisted.
I’d known this was coming. The history between his brother and me was long, so of course he’d need some clarity.
But I barely had the words to explain it to myself.
And I was protective of him, as well as the version of myself who’d fought like hell to make it work.
Part of me would always love Cole. We’d grown up together. We’d become adults together. Even though those adults were incompatible and had made each other miserable, we’d gone through some of life’s biggest achievements and disappointments together.
I sat on the worn leather couch and pulled my knees up to protect myself from the emotional fallout of his conversation. Owen padded over and draped a blanket around my shoulders before sitting next to me.
“He never cheated on me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
His eyes widened. “Yeah. I guess I was.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “He’s so much like my dad, self-centered and egotistical.”
“No, Owen.” I frowned. “You are dead wrong.”
He huffed. “Why are you defending him?”
“Because someone has to. Don’t think for one moment he had it easy. Your lives have been vastly different, sure, but you and I both know that you got the better deal.” I hugged my knees tighter. “You have a loving mother and four brothers. Cole was the leftover no one wanted.”
“Bullshit. My mother wanted him. We all accepted him.” He fisted his hands on his thighs. “And it’s not my job to heal his childhood wounds, anyway. He’s a grown man. He can get therapy like the rest of us.”
“You’re right.” I pressed my lips together and nodded. “That’s on him. And I hope that one day he’ll get there. I’m not asking you to forgive him, but I am asking you to show him some empathy.”
He grunted down at the floor in front of us, which I took as a signal to keep going.
“There was no cheating, there was no big fight, he didn’t hurt me.
We just were not a good fit. We didn’t have the same values, and I never felt good enough.
” I licked my lips and sighed. “He didn’t support my desire to finish my degree, and he was embarrassed that I worked as a waitress to pay my tuition. ”
“There is nothing wrong with honest work, not that my entitled prick brother would know that.”
I glared at him. “Stop.” I waited for him to look at me before I continued. “You wanted the truth; I’m giving it to you. Stop bad-mouthing him. In the end, we wanted different things out of life. I should have seen it sooner, but for so long, I felt stuck and unable to leave.”
“Why?”
I picked at a piece of lint on the throw blanket and gave him a small smile. “Because I cared about him. And he needed me.”
“But your needs are just as important.”
“It’s easy to say that, but far harder to live it when you’ve spent your entire life doing what everyone else wants and believing your needs don’t matter.”
Owen bowed his head in silent understanding.
“We clung to one another. For eight difficult years. We were young, and we’d been tossed out into the world, doing our best to swim while also keeping one another from going under.
He was pursuing his dream of playing pro hockey, and I was pursuing my dream of getting the hell out of this small town and making something of my life.
So, for many years, we hunkered down and weathered the storm. ”
I worried my bottom lip for a moment, wondering how vulnerable I should be. In the end, I chose to put it all out there. If I wanted to be with this man, then I needed him to see all of me.
“I blamed myself for our unhappiness. I thought if I made more of an effort, dressed up, made sure my makeup was perfect, hid behind the sweet facade I’d created long ago, and bent over backward, it would be enough.
That he would love me the way I wanted to be loved and that our life would be perfect.
It wasn’t, of course, and that’s not his fault. That’s my fault.”
I wasn’t honest about what I needed. What I wanted. For a long time, I blamed him for not being able to read my mind.
When, in reality, I had a lot of growing up to do. I needed to learn how to set boundaries and take the time to figure out what the hell I wanted out of life.
It had been my own fucked-up belief system that led me to feeling unseen and unloved.
So I worked like hell to deprogram all the toxic thought patterns.
“It’s taken a lot of work and reflection, but I learned to believe in myself and in my own abilities. I have to be my own hero, stand on my own two feet.”
He’d turned to face me now, his full focus intent on my face.
“I spent eight long years in a crappy relationship before I finally realized that Prince Charming wouldn’t show up and save me.”
He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Lila,” he said, kissing my knuckles. “As the guy sitting here, watching you shine, it’s more than clear to me that this princess is going to save herself.”