Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
Meadow
I don’t just love you as a friend—I’m in love with you. I love you so damn much it hurts.
Owen’s confession plays on repeat in my mind as I make my way back to the suite, the path stretching endlessly ahead of me.
Every step drags like quicksand, my chest still rattling and my eyes stinging from tears. By the time I reach the stone walkway, my legs are trembling from the flood of adrenaline. When I finally reach the suite, I can barely stand.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind me, a harrowing silence takes over, suffocating me in the most unbearable way.
I move through the living area and head straight for my bedroom, my body in survival mode.
The door is already open, and everything is exactly how we left it earlier.
The dim glow from the bedside lamp casts across the room. Our damp towels lay discarded on the unmade bed, evidence from when Owen fucked me—no, made love to me— in the shower just before we left.
It’s as if nothing has changed. But the dried tears on my cheeks are a salty reminder that everything has.
I can’t bring myself to move at first. I just stand there, staring at the sheets we were tangled in earlier, chuckling while talking about what they’d be serving for dinner tonight and whether the reception would have an open bar.
I try not to fall apart again as the memories come rushing back.
I can still feel the way he planted open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down my neck, and across my collarbone.
I remember the way he took me in the shower, how I felt like I was floating outside of my body as his cock rocked deep inside me with every thrust. I can still hear the low, desperate sounds he made, groaning in my ear as his hard length twitched between my thighs, seconds before he spilled himself inside of me.
I slam my eyes shut, trying to hold myself together, but there’s no use. I can’t stop myself from breaking.
A ragged breath escapes me as I take a few steps forward, my heels dangling loosely from my fingers before I drop them near the door. I can barely feel the ache in my feet from walking barefoot along the stone walkway.
All I feel is Owen.
All I hear is him.
I’m in love with you.
My stomach churns violently as I move further into the room, my limbs weak as I slide onto the mattress, sink into myself, and lie on my side.
My gaze drifts to the other end of the bed, finding it empty.
Nothing but an indentation of Owen’s long body in the sheets. I can’t bring myself to scoot to the middle, where he held me just a few hours ago, like I was the most precious thing on earth.
A sob claws its way up my throat, and I quickly turn my head into the pillow to stifle my cry.
My shoulders shake as I let it all out, tears soaking into the cotton pillowcase beneath me. I let myself have this moment, even as a part of me feels pathetic for it.
When my body physically can’t produce another tear, I push myself up from the mattress and swipe my fingers along my cheeks. I close my eyes and draw in a slow breath.
Get it together.
You have to get it together, Meadow.
I force myself to move, to do something to quiet my sorrow before it swallows me whole.
I stand from the bed and decide that the first thing I need to do is get out of this dress that's now filled with sand. I reach behind me and feel the zipper sticking halfway down, my hands shaking too much to get a proper grip.
“Come on,” I mutter in frustration.
After a few attempts, it finally gives as the soft fabric loosens around my body and falls to the floor. Within seconds, I rip off my strapless bra and push my panties down my legs.
I walk into the bathroom, fully naked, desperate to get into the hot shower and wash away the remnants of tonight.
But before I can make it to the shower, the mirror greets me first, bringing me to a stop.
God, I look absolutely pitiful.
Black smudges sit beneath my eyes where my mascara has run, my lips and cheeks red and swollen from crying. My hair is tangled, slightly matted from the wind, and my eyes look… empty. Like all the life has drained out of me.
I stare at myself for a moment, so disappointed that I allowed this week to turn into this.
How could I have been so stupid as to have let things between Owen and me go this far?
There’s no coming back from this. We’ll never be able to rebuild the friendship we once had.
My hands grip the edge of the marble countertop as I close my eyes and dip my head forward.
I’m so fucking na?ve.
This was always going to end like this.
After a week in Costa Cay, Owen is still caught up in the vacation haze. He’s convinced himself that I’m the woman he wants, trying so hard to make me believe that we could actually work.
I’m sure he thinks I’m incredibly cruel after walking away like that, leaving him alone on the dark beach. But ending this now is the only kind thing I can do for him… For us.
Because the second we leave this magical place and go back to the real world, everything will come crashing down.
Our old lives will hit us all at once, back in the cold, gray reality of Chicago.
It’s easier to walk away now than to fall even harder in love with him and face the irreparable heartbreak that would come later.
As much as I want to run to him, I can’t let myself.
Because if I stay, if I let him talk me into believing this could work, if I let him look at me with those emerald eyes or touch me in the intoxicating way he does, I know I will fold.
I will believe him. And I will fall deeper than ever before, giving him every last piece of me.
I know that if I gave my heart to Owen, only to find out he was wrong, it would ruin me beyond repair.
And that’s why I have to make the hardest decision of my life.
I have to leave.
I need to leave before Owen wakes up in the morning. I can’t give him a chance to convince me to stay. I’m barely hanging on to whatever strength I have left.
A sad, humorless laugh slips out of me as I stare at my reflection.
It’s almost ironic. Earlier, I was so upset about us being seated on opposite sides of the plane. And now… it feels like the only thing working in my favor.
If I leave before Owen in the morning, I can avoid the confrontation altogether.
I can slip onto the plane without him seeing me, take my seat on the other side, and get back to Chicago without falling into his grasp again.
Because I fear that if he gets the chance to stop me, to try to convince me to stay, I know I won’t be able to walk away a second time. I’ll throw myself into his arms and confess my love to him, even stronger than he did to me.
And I can’t be my own undoing.
I suck in a shaky breath and take one last look at myself in the mirror, committing this version of myself to memory.
A reminder of how much worse this will get if I don’t stop it now.
I turn away and step into the shower, letting the warm spray wash over me.
“I love you,” I whisper, so quietly my words barely exist.
“I love you… So much,” I say again, knowing my confession will forever stay here, buried in the sands of Costa Cay.