Page 165 of Wish You Were Mine
And unlike Owen, he wasn’t above using it to get the outcome he wanted.
I swallowed hard. “If I do what you’re asking…if I break things off with him…will you promise not to fire him? Will you let Owen keep his job? And still get his grant?”
My dad didn’t answer right away. His jaw flexed. And then, with a heavy exhale, he said, “If you agree to end all personal contact, outside of what’s absolutely necessary for class, I won’t interfere. I won’t bring it up to Dean Harris, and I won’t touch his position.”
It wasn’t what I wanted. But it was probably the best offer I’d get.
So instead of thinking of myself, I thought of everything Owen had worked for. Of how much this job meant to him.How hard he’d fought to build something stable out of a life that had been anything but.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll break things off with him tonight.”
Even if it shattered me.
Even if it meant walking away from the man I loved.
I’d do it.
For him.
52
OWEN
There wasa knock at my door just after ten.
Lucy was here.
I’d left her at Theo’s house two hours ago, giving her space to talk things through with her parents. In the time since, I’d done nothing but pace my apartment, nursing a mug of chamomile tea I’d reheated twice and barely touched.
When I’d driven home, it was with the hope that she’d come back with good news, a glimmer of hope in the mess we’d found ourselves in.
But the second I opened the door, I knew better.
Because instead of looking like the ray of sunshine she’d been in my class all semester, she stood there, eyes rimmed in red, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle like she was holding herself together by sheer will.
She looked like she’d been through a war…and lost.
And the moment I looked in her sad and swollen eyes, I knew what was coming.
She was here to end things.
My stomach turned, a slow, hollow ache curling through me like I’d just been punched in the gut.
“Hey,” I said, gripping the edge of the doorframe, wishing I could freeze time right here, hold her on the threshold, and stop everything from falling apart.
“Hey,” she whispered, not quite meeting my gaze. “Can I come in for a second?”
“Sure.” I stepped aside, nodding, even as dread thickened in my throat. She walked in slowly, like every step hurt, and I shut the door behind her.
“So…” She stood in the middle of the room, still and silent, like she was waiting for her courage to catch up to her. “I talked to my dad after you left.”
“You did?” I swallowed. “Was it a long talk?”
“Not really,” she said, looking down at the floor. “I, uh, I’ve actually been sitting in your parking lot for over an hour.”
“Oh…”
That…wasn’t a good sign.
