Page 18 of Owen

“You don’t have to tell me anything at all. But I am guessing the Owen I am sitting across from is a new Owen, am I right?”

“I’ve been trying to be a better friend. I think I nailed that, but doing what was expected of me for my family”—his eyes dart around the pool—“every word I spoke, everything I did for my mother, father, Evangeline…”

“Was that her name?” I ask softly. “Evangeline?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, completely deflated, his flat eyes reflecting his feelings. “None of it was good enough for any of my family, especially Evangeline.Iwasn’t good enough for her and I’m a dumb fool for believing that I ever could be. Standing at that altar was like awaiting the death penalty, and running away, I thought, was an easy way out. But now I’m here, in Cyprus, with nothing but time on my hands to overthink, it feels like the problems I was running away from are bigger than they were before.” His mouth pulls to the side as he chews the inside of his cheek.

His words fill my heart full of sorrow, every part of me wanting to reassure him it won’t always be this way. He’s important, and he doesn’t have to make hasty choices.

Few men would have the balls to share their innermost secrets with a stranger, but I’m guessing he’s at the lowest point in his life and feels like he has nothing left to hide or lose. He sounds desperate to share, as if no one has ever truly listened to him or given him the right to make his own choices.

“Did you know Evangeline beforehand?”

“I’ve known her and her family for years. Since we gotengaged, I have been trying to get to know her better, make it work. For everyone’s sake.” His voice is low, almost indifferent. He drags his fingers through his hair, his pale eyes crinkling around the sides as if deep in thought. “I found out today she’d been seeing someone else.”

I gasp. “She was cheating on you?”

With a mixture of amusement and disappointment in his voice, he says, “I couldn’t give a shit if she was, because you can’t cheat on someone if you haven’t slept with them, can you? Our relationship was a lie.”

“You guys didn’t have sex before marriage? Do people still do that? How proper and… wow… just wow…” Astounded by this revelation, I drain my glass of wine.

Did EvangelineseeOwen? All of him? Really look at him? Because from where I’m sitting, his powerful body looks like it is made for sex and sin, and those biceps are begging to lift one helluva lucky lady into them and to be bounced up and down his?—

I squeeze my thighs together to ease the surge of excitement zapping through my core, wetting my panties.

“She barely spoke to me. I’m certain she would rather boil her own head than touch me. She made it very clear that I was not her type.” His melancholy words interrupt my fantasy.

His smooth fingers slide over mine, where they still rest on his knee. Liking his touch, I don’t pull away.

“What was her type?” I urge, needing to know what Evangeline thought Owen lacked.

“I don’t know, but thank God it wasn’t me.” He shudders. “She’s a cold-blooded reptile in human skin and loves her bitch of a cat more than anyone with two legs, and that cat too…” He waggles his finger in the air. “It’s not an angel, no ma’am. It’s the fucking devil in white fur. Her evil sidekick. It almost fucking killed me. It gave me an infection. I could have died.” He points to what looks like a red scar in the shape of a bite mark on his hand.

I chuckle. While I don’t know Owen well, I sense a sad and tortured individual when I see one. He hides his lack of self-confidence well, deflecting it with humor.

Despite being crushed, Owen is putting on a brave face and I decide not to push him for more or he might retreat into his mental mancave. So he surprises me when he says, “She said I had an enormous nose.” He draws a straight line down it and then places his hand back on top of mine.

It’s not big at all. In fact, it’s perfect; symmetrical and slightly lifted at the tip.

He becomes a bit more animated. “And I never said the right things. I was either too loud or too quiet. I would offend her if I didn’t say she looked nice, but when I did compliment her, she would change her outfit. I tried organizing date nights, and theater tickets, but she would bring friends along, choosing to spend time with them instead of me. I even wore a baby blue and pink wedding suit for her.” He throws his arms out to his sides as if to sayWhat was I thinking, and I miss the warmth of his hand on mine again.

“Sounds lovely.” I struggle to hide my laughter that’s bubbling like a simmering cauldron in my chest.

“It was embroidered and looked shit.” He gestures to his upper torso and down his arms. “And it had this enormous pink rose over my crotch area.” He makes a bowl shape with his hand and cups his junk.

Laughter like confetti breaks free from my lips, sprinkling warmth into my heart as Owen joins in. At least he can see the funny side.

He points to himself. “Laughingstock. Although you should have seen my two best men. They wore baby pink suits and looked like a pair of giant dildos.”

“I need a picture.”

He ponders for a moment. “I wonder if my friends got one? I’ll have to ask.”

“There may not be any photographic evidence of dildo-suited best men?”

“Such a pity.” He shakes his head, smiling softly. “I put my suit in the trash, or I could have shown you that.”

“You should have worn kilts in your family tartan,” I state.

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