Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Owen
No.
No, no, no.
Where the fuck did she go?
One second, Meadow’s there—right at the edge of the dance floor—watching me struggle to get through this stupid wedding ritual. Next, she just disappears.
She’s gone. Nowhere to be seen.
My chest locks up as I shove through the bodies on the dance floor, ignoring the hands clapping my back, the voices shouting my name, and the music still blasting like I’m not on the verge of a damn heart attack.
“Meadow?” I call out, scanning the guest tables and bar area.
Still, I don’t see her.
When I spin toward the glass doors that lead out to the beach, I spot her walking away. I exhale a pent-up breath, relieved to just lay eyes on her.
She kicks off her heels before her bare feet meet the sand, her satin peach dress rippling in the wind as she starts to run for the black sea.
Shit.
What the hell is she doing?
I don’t think.
I just go.
I push through the doors and sprint down the deck, not slowing down as my dress shoes hit the sand.
The party fades behind me, replaced by the roar of the ocean and the sound of my own pulse thundering in my ears.
What have I done?
What the fuck did I just do?
I knew it. I fucking knew the second I saw Meadow’s face drop when I knelt down next to the woman in the chair.
Meadow tried her best to muster up a smile, but she looked completely checked out. That beautiful smile that lights up my world didn't even reach her eyes like it does when she’s truly happy.
I should've stopped.
I should’ve thrown that worthless fucking garter on the ground and walked off.
The only thing holding me back was it being Tyler’s wedding—his one big day. And to add to the pressure, everyone was watching, chanting my damn name like I’d ruin the entire reception if I didn’t play along.
God, I’m such a fucking idiot.
None of that shit matters. She is the only thing that matters to me.
Yet, I decided to get down on my knee, take my eyes off Meadow for thirty seconds, and let her walk away.
Panic rolls like a tidal wave from my head to my toes as I try to find her against the dark, endless beach.
“Meadow!” I shout, the muscles in my neck straining as my voice breaks.
I force my feet to move faster, kicking up sand as I run farther down the shore.
I almost face-plant as I come to a complete halt, finally spotting her.
My fucking heart shatters when my eyes lock in on Meadow, collapsed in the sand and bent over. Her shoulders shake as her dark hair whips angrily in the ocean wind.
I break into a sprint as I go to her, my adrenaline surging as my vision tunnels to just Meadow. The crash of the ocean drowns out my footsteps as I rush closer, unnoticed.
When I’m only a few feet away, I slow to a stop behind her, my breath quickening with every step I take.
She looks so small like this, curled into herself on the empty beach. I want to scoop her up and pull her into my arms, take away the hurt she’s feeling.
“Meadow,” I mutter breathlessly, stepping toward her crouched body.
Her shoulders jump at the sound of my voice as she spins to face me. Before I can blink, she’s moving, scrambling to stand like she’s mortified to be found like this.
My stomach drops as she backs away from me, staring at me like I’m the sole proprietor of her pain.
It fucking kills me.
“Please don’t,” I plead, slowing as I approach her carefully, hands slightly raised as I reach for her. “Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m fine,” she says quickly, her voice fractured as she shakes her head and swipes at her cheeks. “You should go back. I just need some air.”
Bullshit.
I’m not going anywhere but here.
“Meadow.”
“Seriously, Owen, I’m—”
“Stop,” I interject, my voice full of gravel. “For once, please stop pretending you’re okay. You don’t have to do that with me.”
Her bottom lip trembles as she just stares at me, the wind lashing through her hair and dress. Her chest rises and falls too fast, like she can’t get enough air.
When I try to take another step toward her, she walks back again.
Jesus Christ.
“Meadow,” I breathe her name. “Please stop backing away from me.”
Her face bends with emotion as she turns her head, staring out at the black void of unending ocean.
“I’m not backing away,” she finally whispers. “I’m just… giving us both some space. Some time to think.”
Space.
That single word suddenly becomes my least favorite term in the dictionary.
I don’t want space. I’ve never wanted or needed time away from Meadow. Just being in her presence recharges my battery.
“I don’t want space,” I shake my head.
She pushes a hand through her wild hair and swallows thickly.
“Well, I do,” she mutters unconvincingly.
Her words feel like a punch to the ribs, knocking the air right out of me. I inhale a shaky breath, rubbing a hand against my jaw as I try to keep myself together.
“Meadow, what is going on?” I ask, softer now. “Please, talk to me.”
She lets out a broken laugh, shaking her head.
“You really didn’t see it?”
“See what?”
When she turns back to me and meets my gaze, the look in her eyes crushes me.
Fuck.
Her beautiful, dark eyes are broken and hollow. A look I’ve never seen in her before. Like all the fight she had left has drained out of her.
“You on the dance floor,” she continues, her voice trembling. “With her.”
My stomach churns, feeling as if I might vomit before I can respond.
“Meadow… I’m so fucking sorry—”
“No, don’t apologize,” she cuts me off, holding up a hand. “I’m not upset about the garter thing, okay? It’s silly. It’s just some dumb wedding game. I get it. You felt pressured. Your friends were watching.”
“Meadow, I shouldn't have done it—”
“It’s not about that,” she interjects, shaking her head. “It’s just…” she trails off, her voice cracking.
“It made me realize something.”
Slowly, so slowly, I take a step toward her.
“What?” I can only manage a whisper.
She lets out an empty laugh.
“That I don’t belong here.”
I don’t belong here.
My heart fucking splits in half with her confession—that she could ever think so low of herself.
“That is not true,” I retort, my voice tight. “I will not let you believe such a ridiculous lie.”
“I don’t, Owen,” she insists, her voice rising. “I don’t belong in your world. Did you see her?”
I hesitate, searching for the words to explain how that woman could never compare to Meadow. I can’t even recall her face. I was too caught up in getting back to Meadow.
All that was on my mind was her. Getting back to her.
“Of course you did,” she scoffs, thick tears spilling down her cheeks. “She’s fucking gorgeous. Confident and captivating. She looked like she was born to be the center of attention. She thrives in it.”
I take another step closer as my throat tightens, finally closing the distance between us and gently wrapping my fingers around her wrist.
“And you fit right in with her,” she continues, her voice barely audible. “The two of you looked so right together.”
“Meadow, stop talking like that,” I croak, sliding my fingers up to her elbow. “It didn’t mean a damn thing.”
“I know,” she snaps, pulling her arm from my grip. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is it?” I ask, pushing a hand through my wind-blown hair. “What can I do to fix this? Just tell me. I’ll do anything.”
She presses a hand to her sternum like she’s trying to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. A sob cracks from deep in her throat as she covers her mouth with her free hand.
“You can’t,” she chokes out. “We don’t fit, Owen. But she… Someone like her is who you’re supposed to spend your life with. A stunning, infectious, outgoing woman.”
Christ.
How could she believe this nonsense?
Why is she talking about herself this way? It makes me furious to hear Meadow belittling herself when she is the most stunning, infectious woman I have ever met.
Silence falls between us as the waves roll in harder now, breaking against the shore.
“Meadow,” I start, my jaw flexing. “I’m not going to stand here and let you talk about yourself like that.”
“I’m just being realistic.”
“No,” I shake my head. “You’re being cruel.”
Her brows knit together. “Cruel?”
“Yeah,” I rumble, stepping closer. “To yourself.”
“You’re standing here telling me who I’m supposed to want,” I continue. “Like you know me better than I know myself. You don’t get to decide that for me, Meadow.”
“You don’t get it, Owen.”
“I think I do,” I push back. “You have yourself convinced that I want to be with someone like her, but Meadow, what you don’t understand is that I had that. And the whole fucking time I was with my ex, I wanted you.”
She steps back, like the ground beneath her just shifted.
I push my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands, trying to make her really see it.
“You,” I continue. “The girl who’d rather disappear into a book for hours than be stuck in a room full of fake-ass, pretentious people.
The girl who thinks too much, who overanalyzes every little thing.
” I let out a quiet breath. “The one who’s secretly the funniest person I know, even if no one else gets to see it. ”
My voice eases, but it doesn’t lose its edge.
“Yes, you’re quiet, but not in a way that makes you invisible,” I mutter. “But in a way that makes everything you say actually matter.”
I swallow hard, my mind racing to get the words out right before I lose her.
“You’re… you, Meadow,” I smile softly, holding her stare. “You’re the most authentic person I know. You don’t do anything for show or for attention. You’re just you. And you care about other people in such a delicate but fierce way.”
Her breath hitches as I take another step closer.
“And for what it’s worth, you are the most mesmerizing, hauntingly beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You take my fucking breath away, Meadow.”
Her eyes dart between mine as she listens to every word.