Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Owen
It’s the first Monday back at work since we got home Saturday, and I still haven’t seen or heard from Meadow.
I spent the entire weekend fighting the urge to blow up her phone—or worse, show up at her apartment unannounced. The only thing that stopped me from hunting her down was knowing she needed time to herself… And that I’d see her at work today.
Meadow never misses work, not even when she’s sick, which I’ve told her a million times is ridiculous. She never gives herself time to rest.
My plan is to ask her to lunch, or maybe get a drink at the bar we often frequent after long days. And if she declines… Fuck, I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe follow her to her car after work and literally sit on her hood, hold her hostage until she agrees to talk to me.
One thing is for sure: she can’t avoid me here. Not when we work on the same floor.
All I could think about last night, as I tossed and turned in bed, was seeing her today.
My weekend was pure fucking hell.
I could barely eat, sleep, watch TV, or bring myself to function. Focusing on anything other than Meadow has been damn near impossible. I just stared at blank walls, replaying our trip and what I planned to say to her today.
After maybe thirty minutes of sleep, I woke up with a rush of adrenaline, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, knowing I would see her today.
I refuse to let my head hit the pillow tonight without talking to Meadow. Her avoiding me ends today.
The drive to work was a sobering reminder that we aren't in Turks and Caicos anymore. The sky that was so blue last week is now gray, with thick snow falling from the clouds. I shivered in my jacket on the elevator ride up, my body protesting the cold after a week of basking in the sun.
My pulse kicks up as the elevator dings to a stop. I push a hand through my damp hair, still wet from melted snowflakes, and step out onto the floor.
I inhale a deep breath and push through the glass doors of the office, my gaze immediately sweeping across the cubicles.
The office looks exactly the same as it always does. Phones are already starting to ring, people move in and out of the breakroom with their morning coffee, and quiet conversations drift between cubicles as everyone catches up from the weekend.
The office looks the same, but only Meadow and I know how much everything has changed.
I’m so used to walking straight up to Meadow’s desk, watching her roll her eyes as I greet her with some cheesy line before asking her to grab coffee with me. We usually catch up in the breakroom while we pour our cups, getting our fill of each other before the day starts.
I want that back more than anything.
I want that and so much more.
Instead of grabbing a coffee with her at work, I want to wake up to her—roll over in bed and hold her in my arms. Kiss her cheeks, nose, and lips while telling her how beautiful she is.
Start the day by slipping inside her warm body, feeling her come apart around me as she recites my name in breathless moans.
Seven days in Costa Cay wasn’t enough.
That was just the beginning, and if we’re lucky, we’ll have a lifetime of watching sunsets on the beach together.
I just need to help Meadow get out of her own head. I need her to know that she’s it for me, and as long as she feels the same way, I’m not going to let her walk away.
Maybe she’s used to people not fighting for her, but that ends today. I’d go to war for Meadow Riley—put my life on the line—if she asked me to.
My nerves skyrocket as I scan around the room for her.
When my gaze lands on her empty desk, my throat swells.
Where is she?
It’s fifteen past eight…Meadow is always here on time. Always. There hasn’t been a single day since I started working here that Meadow wasn’t here before me.
Her chair is tucked neatly beneath her desk, her computer screen dark and keyboard untouched. Her purple coffee tumbler is nowhere to be seen, and her keys and badge aren't sitting on her desk. There’s no sign that she’s been here at all this morning.
An unsettling feeling twists my stomach.
She’s been off for a week, which is rare for Meadow. And it’s not like her to be late, especially after a vacation.
“Morning, Owen.”
I turn at the sound of a feminine voice, tearing my gaze away from her desk as my coworker, Amy, steps up beside me.
“Morning,” I say casually, forcing a smile.
“How was your trip?” she asks, holding a steaming cup of coffee between her hands.
The best week of my life, followed by the worst weekend of my life.
Where do I even begin?
“It was, uh—good,” I stammer, completely distracted. Because Meadow is now twenty minutes late.
“Hey,” I start before Amy can reply. “Have you seen Meadow?”
Amy tilts her head and looks at me with confusion.
“She didn’t tell you?” she asks. “She called out today. Wasn't feeling well. I guess y'all's little vacation wore her out,” she chuckles. “Seriously, though, I hope she’s okay. I know the flu is running rampant right now.”
Amy keeps rambling on, but I barely register a word she says after she told me that Meadow called in sick. She says something about her kids screaming in the car on the way to school this morning, then a quick “have a good day” before she heads back to her desk.
I try to move, but I can’t.
I just stand there, staring directly at Meadow’s vacant desk.
She called out today. Wasn’t feeling well.
A humorless breath leaves me.
Yeah, right.
She left the resort early without saying goodbye. She dodged me on the plane. And now she’s not showing up for work.
It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots.
Meadow’s not sick. She’s avoiding me like the damn plague.
The realization that Meadow is going to all these lengths to shut me out hits me square in the chest. At this point, I’m not confused or surprised.
Instead, I just feel the sharp, familiar sting of being pushed away once again.
I briefly close my eyes and drag a hand down my face, letting out a deep exhale.
Fine.
If Meadow really wants to end this, she’s going to have to look me in the eyes and say it.
There’s no use in staying here any longer. I’m not going to be able to focus on emails or be productive in meetings when all I can think about is her.
If I just sit here—keep letting her shut me out—if I let this stretch into days or weeks, I’ll lose Meadow for good.
The thought stops my heart, my vision tunneling at the edges as fear takes over.
I’m going to fucking lose her.
I will lose not only what we shared last week, but also my best friend.
If I don’t do something now, Meadow will shut me out completely.
No.
No, I’m not letting that happen.
I’m done sitting around, pretending that distance is going to fix this. I’m not letting Meadow convince herself that we don’t fit when I know that we’ve both been wanting this— fighting this —for years.
She’s allowed to be scared. She can take a minute to breathe and process everything that’s happened between us.
But I’m not letting her walk away from me without knowing that I did everything in my power to get her back.
This isn’t over, not even close.
My fingers tighten around my keys as I turn and head for the door.
There’s no second-guessing or overthinking it.
I’m going to her. End of story.
Heads turn as I move quickly through the office, but I don’t have time to stop and explain. I don’t slow down, don’t stop to tell my manager, don’t pretend that anything else matters more than running to her.
Because it doesn’t. I could lose everything in my life and still be okay… as long as I have her. But without Meadow, I would be a shell of myself. I would have nothing.
She can avoid me all she wants, tell herself that walking away is the right thing to do.
But she’s not getting rid of me, not without hearing me out first.
By the time I reach my car, I fire up the engine, my breath uneven as I wrap my fingers tightly around the steering wheel.
I told her I’m in love with her, now I’m going to prove it.