5. Owen #3
"The Winebergs were vicious, and they were always going to find a way to destroy my father and me to protect their own interests," Gill told him, her fingers clenching into a tight fist on the table.
"We could've gone behind Debbi’s back during that dig, but we didn't. We respected your commitment.
We didn't even hold hands, let alone kiss, while you were still wearing her ring.
We didn't do a single thing until after the divorce papers were finalized, and we only met up that one final time just before you left Charleston and I went away with my father. "
She let out a slow, trembling breath, her expression softening into something deeply nostalgic and sweet.
"You were gallant," Gill whispered, her gaze holding his.
"You were the most faithful, honorable man I'd ever met in my life.
Even when you were trapped in that miserable, arranged marriage, you chose to respect that commitment while falling in love with me.
You didn't break your vows. You held the line. "
Owen looked down at his hands, his throat feeling dry as bones. He didn't feel gallant. He didn't feel honorable at all. When he closed his eyes, the memory of that final summer in Charleston returned with a suffocating, clinical clarity.
He felt like the person who had ripped the very roots out of her promising career, leaving her academic dreams to wither in the dirt.
Gill had been a brilliant, rising scientist, and her father, the prestigious dean of the college, had been dragged straight into the devastating blast radius of the Wineberg wrath simply because of his daughter's connection to Owen.
The Winebergs had used their immense wealth and political force to strip her father of his position, forcing him into a humiliating retirement and shattering his spirit.
And Owen had been helpless to stop it, his own powerful family refusing to get involved in a messy public scandal.
"Your father," Owen managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. "I couldn't protect him. I couldn't save his position."
"My father knew the risks of standing up to corrupt people," Gill told him gently, her hand finally coming forward to rest over his knuckles, her touch was reassuring.
"He never blamed you, and neither did I.
We survived. We went away, we built a simple life in the shadows, and now, thanks to Darius and Baxter, we're finally going to get our justice. "
She offered him a bright, beautiful smile that seemed to clear the last of the lingering Charleston fog from the booth.
"And that's why I need you to hear me," Gill continued, her eyes sparkling with sincerity.
"I'm incredibly happy that you found Isabel.
She is a wonderful, strong woman, and she looks at you the exact same way you look at her.
You deserve to be happy. You've spent ten years carrying around a ghost. It's time to set the weight down and live. "
Owen stared at her, a deep sense of wholeness finally taking root. The ancient, agonizing ache of his past was gone, replaced by a respectful gratitude. He squeezed her hand back, a genuine smile breaking across his features.
"Thank you," Owen said quietly, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a decade. "For everything."
"Thank you," Gill said, her eyes holding his. "For being my first love and showing me what true commitment and honor are." She squeezed his hand gently, her touch steady and reassuring. "Until I met Baxter, no one else ever measured up to you."
Owen swallowed hard, and to his mortification, he felt tears sting the back of his eyes as his throat went raw. He cleared his throat and took a slow sip of the hot coffee to help swallow the tight lump forming there.
"You helped me open up my heart," Owen told her, staring down at the dark liquid in his mug. "I come from a world where love is a four-letter word spoken in distaste. You marry for alliance, you marry for power, and you marry to strengthen your social standing and fill your pockets. Not for love"
"You were never like your family," Gill reminded him, her voice carrying a fierce pride. "That's why you went into archaeology. You had a passion burning through your veins that your parents simply couldn't extinguish."
"My father was horrified when I followed in his younger brother's footsteps." Owen let out a low, rough laugh, and for a fleeting moment, the old feeling of youthful rebellion coursed through his chest.
"So they tried to suffocate you by forcing you to marry Debbi," Gill stated, her eyes softening. "It was their way of tightening the shackles of control on one part of your life."
"But you helped me break those shackles, and in return..." Owen trailed off, swallowing hard as the heavy wave of guilt and pain hit his chest once again.
"No," Gill said, her voice rising even more fiercely as she leaned across the table. "I told you not to do that. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a single thing. It was worth everything to free you from that toxic relationship with both Debbi and your parents."
"But I should've protected you and your father," Owen said. His voice gentled. "He was more of a parent to me than mine ever was."
"You did protect us," Gill pointed out, her voice turning serious.
"Because of you, the Winebergs withdrew their charges, and I didn’t go to jail on a fabricated lie.
" She frowned slightly, her eyes searching his face.
"How did you get them to drop the charges? She said she’d only do it if you dropped the divorce. "
Owen’s eyes blazed with a cold triumph. "She was having an affair with her bodyguard, and I happened to have it on video."
"Oh, no," Gill gasped, her eyes widening in sheer shock.
"In my world, status and appearance are everything," Owen muttered, leaning forward slightly over his mug. "Having an affair with someone of your own status or higher is not too taboo, but..."
"A bodyguard," Gill whispered, her eyes wide before she snorted, a beautiful, genuine smile splitting her face. "How ironic. The queen bee accuses us of going behind her back, and all the while..."
"I know, right?" Owen nodded, his lips curving into a genuine grin.
He looked at Gill, and his heart swelled with a peaceful joy. He realized how much he still loved her. But the nature of that love had changed, evolving over the long years of separation into something comfortable and safe. It was the deep, unshakeable love between two very dear, old friends.
Just then, the small brass bell above the front door let out a cheerful chime, and Owen turned his head toward the entrance.
His heart gave a hard, sudden lurch against his ribs as Isabel and Baxter walked into the dim dining room.
He saw Gill’s head turn at the exact same instant, and he knew by the immediate, breathless softening of her features that her heart had stuttered at the sight of the developer.
"Oh," Isabel said, pulling a playful face as she approached their corner booth. "We’re not here to intrude."
"Or spy," Baxter added quickly, holding up a handwritten paper list. "We've been sent with a direct commission for some of the diner's specialty coffees."
Owen and Isabel exchanged a look, and a sharp, sweet spark of electricity zipped straight to his chest. He and Gill glanced at each other with knowing smiles on their faces.
The weight of the last ten years seemed to dissolve, and their hands gave one final, supportive squeeze over the laminate table before they turned to welcome the new people in their lives.
"Come sit with us while you wait for the order," Gill invited, gesturing toward the empty vinyl benches. "We’re finished talking."
"And," Owen said, his eyes locking onto Isabel’s with a steady devotion, "let this be the first of many double dates between old friends and family."