Chapter 37
OWEN
The kitchen smelled like garlic and rosemary.
I adjusted the flame under the pan, watching the butter sizzle around the edges of the chicken breast I’d been nursing for the past twenty minutes. Cooking had never been my strong suit, but tonight was different.
Tonight, everything had to be perfect.
My gaze drifted from the stove to the dining table I’d set up in the living room. White tablecloth, candles flickering in the center, two wine glasses, and a small vase with red roses I picked up from the grocery store, slightly wilted but passable.
It looked like something out of a rom-com. The kind Harlow made me watch every other night. The ones I pretended to hate but secretly didn’t mind because she always ended up curled against my chest, and I got to feel her laugh vibrate through my ribs.
I was so far gone for this woman, it was embarrassing.
My eyes landed on the counter, where a small black velvet box sat.
Two carats. Oval cut.
I wanted to do this right.
Vegas was still happening. Tomorrow morning, at six a.m., we would be on a plane to get married.
The chicken sizzled, and I flipped it with slightly more force than necessary, my nerves making my hands clumsy.
I checked the time on my phone. She’d be home any minute.
Traffic from campus was usually light this time of day, but knowing Harlow, she’d probably stopped to grab a coffee or gotten distracted by a bookstore or…
My phone vibrated against the counter.
I wiped my hands on the dish towel and grabbed it, expecting to see her name. Maybe a text saying she was running late.
Jax.
“Hey, man. What’s up? How’s fatherhood treating you?”
Silence.
The kind of silence that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Jax?”
“Are you fucking Harlow?” Anger radiated through the phone.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Nothing came out. My brain had apparently decided to flatline, leaving me standing in the middle of my kitchen with a spatula in one hand and my entire life crumbling around me.
“I… What… Where did you…”
“Someone sent me a video.” His voice was ice. “You and Harlow were making out at some party. Your hands were all over her.”
The frat party.
Fuck.
“Jax, listen…”
“No, you listen.” He cut me off, his voice rising.
“I trusted you. I trusted you with her. When she called scared in the middle of the night, I was relieved it was you who went to help her. When she said she was staying at your apartment, I thought, Good. Owen will keep her safe. Because you’re my best friend.
Because you’re supposed to be the one person I don’t have to worry about. ”
“I know, but…”
“You couldn’t keep your hands off the one person you were supposed to leave alone.”
The chicken was burning. I could smell it, could hear the butter popping and hissing in the pan, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything except stand there and absorb every word like a boxer taking punches he deserved.
“Jax…”
“How long has this been going on?” A bitter laugh.
“I tried to stay away from her.” The words came tumbling out. “I fought it. For weeks, I told myself all the reasons it was a terrible idea. I made rules. I drew lines. I did everything I was supposed to do, but…”
The front door burst open.
Harlow stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, her chest heaving like she had run all the way from campus. Her gaze swept the room, the candles, the table, me standing frozen with the phone pressed to my ear, and I watched understanding crash over her face.
“Jax, I need you to hear me out. Please. Just... give me that.”
Silence on the other end. Not agreement, but not a hang-up either.
I took a breath. Then another.
“You want to know what Harlow is to me? She’s my best friend.
She’s the person I can’t wait to talk to at the end of every day.
When something good happens, she’s the first person I want to tell.
When something pisses me off or makes me want to punch a wall, she’s the one I want to call.
Not to fix it. Just to hear her voice. Just to have her there. ”
I looked at Harlow standing in the doorway, tears already streaming down her cheeks, and felt my heart crack wide open.
“When she’s not with me, I miss her. Every single minute.
I find myself checking my phone just to see if she’s texted.
I catch myself smiling at nothing because I’m thinking about something she said three days ago, and when I know I’m about to see her again, it’s like.
.. like I can finally breathe. Like everything that felt off suddenly clicks into place. ”
My voice cracked, but I kept going.
“She’s not just someone I want, Jax. She’s someone I need. In a way, I’ve never needed anyone. She makes me laugh harder than anyone I know. She calls me out on my bullshit. She makes me want to be a better man and not because she asks me to, but because she makes me believe I actually could be.”
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening, but I couldn’t stop now.
“I’m in love with her.” It came out like a confession.
“I’m so in love with her it terrifies me.
I didn’t plan this. I didn’t want this. I fought it hard, not because of her, but because I knew what it would cost. I knew I could lose you, and that’s been killing me.
But I can’t pretend anymore. She’s everything to me. She’s my whole goddamn world.”
More silence.
“There was one rule.” Jax’s voice had gone quiet now, which was somehow worse than the yelling. “One goddamn rule between us. We don’t fuck with each other’s family.”
“I know.”
“And you just… What? Decided it didn’t apply to you?”
“I would never risk our friendship for just a fuck. “
“But you did risk it, didn’t you?” The anger was seeping back in, mixing with something that sounded like hurt. “You risked twenty years of friendship, and what happens when you hurt her? Because that’s what you do. That’s your pattern. Remember Cam? Remember how that turned out?”
The reminder stung, exactly like he intended it to.
“This is different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” I let out a heavy sigh, running my free hand down my face.
“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love Harlow.
She’s not a distraction, a mistake, or some impulse I couldn’t control.
I would burn the entire world down for her, and if you made me choose…
” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to say something I never thought I would have to say to him.
“If you made me choose between you and her... I would choose Harlow. Every single time.”
Silence.
Long enough that I thought he might have hung up. My heart started hammering against my ribs, waiting for the verdict.
“You’re my best friend, Jax. You’ve been my brother in every way that matters for two decades. But Harlow is my soulmate and I can’t… I won’t give her up. Not even for you.”
A long exhale on the other end of the line.
“The worst part is that I actually believe you. I believe you think you love her. I believe you think this is different. But we all know your pattern. We all know this is what you do.”
“Jax…”
“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t do this right now. I can’t listen to you talk about how much you love her while I’m still trying to process the fact that my best friend betrayed me.”
“I didn’t betray you. I fell in love.”
“Same fucking thing.” A bitter laugh that held no humor. “You know what? I hope you’re right. I hope this is different. I hope you don’t destroy her the way you’ve destroyed every other relationship you’ve ever had.”
“Jax…”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone like I just lost my best friend in under ten minutes. Harlow’s footsteps crossed the kitchen floor toward me.
“Owen.” My name came out as a whisper. “That was...”
“He hung up on me.” I managed a weak laugh that sounded more like a sob. “He actually hung up on me.” I knew he was going to be angry, but I really thought he would see how much I loved Harlow and understand.
Her arms wrapped around me from behind, her cheek pressing against my back.
“He’ll come around,” she said softly. “He just needs time.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.” She squeezed tighter. “But I know Jax, and I know you. Twenty years of friendship doesn’t just disappear because of one phone call. He’s hurt. He’s angry. But he loves you.”
I turned in her arms, pulling her against my chest.
“You told him I was your best friend,” she whispered.
“You are.”
“You told him you can’t stop thinking about me.”
“I can’t.”
She pulled back, looking up at me, tears still clinging to her lashes. “You told him you’re in love with me.”
“Harlow.” I cupped her face in my hands, wiping her tears with my thumbs.
“I meant every single word. You’re not just someone I love.
You’re the person I want to talk to about everything and nothing.
You’re the reason I check my phone a hundred times a day.
You’re the reason I actually want to come home at night instead of staying at the gym until it closes.
You make me feel like myself, like the best version of myself, and I don’t know how to exist anymore without you. ”
She let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Yeah, well.” I managed a smile despite the ache in my chest. “I burned your dinner, so I had to compensate somehow.” I moved into the kitchen and clicked the burner off.
Her gaze swept the room again, taking in the table setting, the candles, the effort I’d put into making everything perfect. Fresh tears welled in her eyes.
“You did all this? For me?”
“No, for the other woman I’m secretly engaged to.” I scraped the ruined chicken into the trash. “Yes, for you. Who else would I…”
I turned around and found her staring at the counter.
At the black velvet box, sitting there, waiting.
Shit.
“Owen.” Her voice had gone very quiet. Very still. “Is that...”
I was across the kitchen before I could think, scooping up the box and dropping to one knee so fast I probably bruised something. But I didn’t care. Nothing mattered except the look on her face, the hope and disbelief and overwhelming love shining in her eyes.
“I wanted to do this the right way. I know we said Vegas. I know we agreed to keep it simple. But you deserve more than simple, Harlow. You deserve the proposal and the ring and the whole damn fairy tale.”
I opened the box, revealing the ring I spent all morning finding.
“I love you. I’ve loved you for longer than I probably realized, and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life, whether you like it or not. You’re stuck with me. My terrible cooking and my horrible jokes and my inability to remember to put the toilet seat down…”
“You really need to work on that.”
“I know. I’m a work in progress.” I smiled up at her, feeling my heart expand to fill every inch of my chest. “But I’m your work in progress. If you’ll have me.”
She was crying again. Happy tears, I hoped, this time.
“Harlow Cruz.” I took her hand, feeling her tremble against my palm. “Will you marry me?”
She stared at me long enough that my knee started to ache, and my brain started to panic.
Then she launched herself at me.
We went sprawling across the kitchen floor, bodies tangled, lips finding mine. I caught her against me, holding on tight, and kissed back with everything I had.
“Is that a yes?” I managed between kisses. “I’m taking that as a yes.”
“Yes.” She was laughing and crying at the same time. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
I slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. She held her hand up to the light, watching it sparkle, and the smile on her face was worth every cent I spent.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“You’re beautiful.” I pulled her down for another kiss. “And you’re going to be my wife.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” I grinned against her mouth, though the smile didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Think Vegas is ready for us?”
“Vegas has no idea what’s coming.”
We lay there on the kitchen floor for a while, tangled together, the ring glinting on her finger and the burned smell of my failed dinner hanging in the air.
The candles were still flickering on the table.
The pregnancy test was still waiting in the bathroom, and somewhere across the country, my best friend was probably throwing his phone against a wall.
But Harlow was in my arms. She’d said yes, and tomorrow, she’d be my wife.
The rest we’d figure out. Together.