Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Meadow
Today is our last day to lounge around with no responsibilities, sip sugary cocktails, and breathe in the Caribbean air.
Our last full day here.
The midday sun sparkles against the luxurious pool, teal-blue water rippling as little kids splash around in the shallow area.
I sink further into the cushioned lounger, my sunglasses hiding the way I can’t keep my eyes off of Owen as I sip my frozen margarita.
The past seven days have felt more like seven minutes.
As a homebody, there’s usually a part of me that’s ready to leave near the end of a vacation, but this time, I just feel sick as the seconds tick by.
Owen is sprawled back in his chair with one arm thrown over his head and the other resting casually on his torso. Days in the sun have bronzed his sculpted chest and chiseled abs, fresh stubble tracing his jawline, making him look irresistibly masculine and gorgeous.
He looks so relaxed… at ease. As if tomorrow’s not lurking right around the corner, raining on our last day.
Owen’s phone buzzes between us, pulling me from my thoughts. He leans forward and swipes it off the small table before checking the notification.
“Just an automatic update from the airline,” he mutters. “Looks like we can check in for our flight now.”
My heart takes a nosedive.
It’s almost time to check out of Costa Cay and check back in to whatever we were before this trip…
“Already?” I force out.
“Yeah…” he replies, his voice low and rough as he taps against the screen. “We board in less than twenty-four hours.”
An anxiety-induced flush crawls up my cheeks as reality hits me right in the chest.
“I’ll forward you your boarding pass,” he adds, squinting through his shades as he tries to navigate his phone against the sun’s glare. “Just in case—you never know if we’ll get split up at the airport.”
Split up.
Those are the only two words I register.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “That’s true. You can never be too cautious.”
When my phone pings a second later, I grab it off the table and open the notification with our boarding passes.
My throat swells as I double-check our seats, realizing we’re sitting on opposite ends of the plane.
“Gosh, we’re sitting so far apart,” I mutter, my reply slipping out before I can stop it.
“I know,” Owen sighs in response. “It sucks, but when I canceled my ex’s ticket and booked yours, there weren’t any seats together on the return flight.”
Canceled my ex’s ticket .
I’m hit with the reminder that another woman was supposed to be here with him—a woman who not only looks like a model, but is one for a living.
Her seat was replaced by mine. She was his first choice, not me.
And I know that none of this is Owen’s fault. They broke up, and it was incredibly nice of him to ask me to come. But I still can’t help but compare myself to her.
Self-doubt creeps in as knots form in my stomach.
“Hey,” Owen says softly, snapping me back to the present.
I force out a smile as he reaches for my chin, but Owen sees right through my charade.
“What just happened?” He asks, his bright green eyes darting between mine. “Where did you go just now?”
“I just…” My voice cracks. “I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know why I get this sinking feeling like… we’re already drifting apart.”
His brows pinch together in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
I run a palm against my forehead, feeling silly for being so sensitive over something as minuscule as assigned seats.
“You’re… in the front of the plane,” I murmur. “And I’m in the back.”
“That’s what this is about?” He replies, his tone filled with so much care it breaks my heart. “Meadow, as soon as we take off, I’ll switch you seats. I had planned on doing that anyway. I’d rather you sit in the front than me.”
“It’s not the seat,” I shake my head. “It just feels symbolic in a weird way.”
I watch as Owen pushes back the table between us and slides his chair closer until our knees touch.
“Symbolic of what, Meadow?”
“I don’t know… Of all this ending,” I admit, letting my guard fall.
He studies me with his emerald eyes, making me feel intoxicated even though I’ve only had a few sips of my drink.
“You think a seating chart decides what happens to us?” he asks quietly.
“It’s just… Someone else was supposed to go on this trip with you. She was supposed to be here,” my voice comes out small, almost a whisper. “I wasn’t.”
His jaw flexes as he shakes his head like I’ve got it all wrong.
“I can’t change the past, Meadow,” he rasps.
“But I canceled her ticket. And instead of coming alone, I wanted you to be here with me. Even when she was still my girlfriend, I thought about how much I’d rather experience this with you.
Before I even ended things, you were the one I wanted, Meadow. Not her.”
…you were the one I wanted, Meadow. Not her.
God.
I want to believe him.
I should believe him.
Owen’s not a liar, and he’s certainly never given me a reason to doubt him. But the devil on my shoulder still tries to convince me that I could never be enough for him.
I draw in a choppy breath as panic coils inside me.
“I just—I can’t help but feel like the universe is messing with us,” I blurt out. “Like it’s some sort of foreshadowing. What if the vacation high fades away the second we land? What if having opposite seats is the first sign of things falling apart?”
Owen leans forward, his gaze steady as he cups my face between his hands.
“Meadow,” he says gently. “I don’t care where the hell I sit on that plane. I only care that you’re on it. I care that you’re coming home with me. If I had to sit on the fucking wing to get you home, I would.”
I can’t help the smile that splits across my face as a small laugh escapes me.
“You would die, Owen.”
“Then it’d be worth it,” he replies without hesitation.
I scoff, shaking my head.
“Meadow,” Owen continues, his voice shifting from playful to serious. He brushes his thumbs along my cheeks as his eyes flick between mine.
“I’m done pretending,” he promises. “We’re not going back to being afraid to touch each other or cross a line. We’ve already fucking obliterated that line. And I don’t want to go back.”
I look down at my lap, gathering my thoughts before lifting my gaze and meeting his stare.
“You’re not scared?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
“Of course I am,” he replies without thought, gently squeezing my thigh in reassurance. “I’m fucking scared to death of losing you. But I’m not running from this. Not anymore.”
I nod slowly and lean against him, pushing back tears as I rest my head on his warm shoulder. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
His lips graze my skin before he presses a lingering kiss to my temple.
“We’ll figure it out, Meadow,” he whispers against my hair. “I promise you.”
I close my eyes, desperately wanting to believe him.
Still, a single thought plagues me: tomorrow, we leave paradise and go back to the real world.
I should be excited to go home and see where this goes. Instead, I feel like I’m bracing for impact.