Page 88 of Single Girl in the City
Something flashed in Owen’s eyes that told her he noticed the signs. He stepped forward as if to catch her and she realized that she needed to learn to catch herself.
Starting now.
She wobbled backward, then straightened her spine and reminded herself that the key to survival was to stay calm and breathe through the pain.
“Jens, I need my wing girl,”she whispered. Immediately the ambient song switched to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive,” and that’s when she knew she wasn’t alone.
Even though her heart was broken beyond repair, and she was one sob away from shattering into a million pieces, she did what she’d promised herself she’d do.
She granted her last Good Deed and walked away.
She was tired of fighting for things she loved, only to have them be taken. For once, she wanted someone to fight to be with her, to push through the pain and choose her. To tell her she was worth the mess and the crazy.
But he wasn’t going to say any of those things, so she said the one thing she needed him to hear. “Whatever you decide, running the bar or opening your shop, I sincerely hope you find whatever it is that makes you happy.”
She looked at everyone who was staring back, everything from anger to confusion in their gazes, but it was Owen she focused on.
“Goodbye, Owen,” she said knowing that no matter how much she loved saying his name, this would be the last time.
Chapter Thirty
Happy Things:
Jeans that make your ass
look great
“What the hell did she mean when she said that you’re not happy?” Rhett asked, leaning back in the booth seat, taking way too much joy in Owen’s current situation. “Since when?”
It had taken him a whole ten minutes to realize he’d overreacted. Even less time to figure out he’d blown it with Abi. He’d known that the second he saw the anguish on her face. He’d reaffirmed her biggest fear, that she wasn’t worth the time.
Owen sat at a booth in the back of the pub, tie gone, shirt unbuttoned, arms folded across the table. His head was pounding. The party was winding down; most of the place had cleared out, yet there he sat replaying every moment of the last few months. Trying to pinpoint a moment, any moment to contradict what she’d said.
“I don’t know, a while.”
He could feel his brothers all exchange worried looks. Hell, he was worried. There were a lot of things he’d been able to come back from—his dad’s passing, Kyle’s accident, even Elena’s betrayal. But he wasn’t sure how he’d come back from this.
It felt like he’d been blown open by a shotgun leaving his chest like Swiss cheese.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Gage asked.
“I’m a tattooist who runs a bar and doesn’t drink alcohol!”
“It’s called words, dude. Use your words,” Gage said in that dad voice that grated on Owen’s last nerve.
The moment Abi had walked out, his brothers had quietly ushered him to the back of the bar, then rallied around. Only instead of feeling supported he felt suffocated.
“You know what’s really annoying?” Owen said. “Happy people who are always wanting to dole out advice that means jack shit to those of us living in the real world.”
“In your real world, you just let your happy walk out the door,” Rhett pointed out.
Yeah, he knew that. Knew that he’d hurt her. Badly. She’d finally allowed herself to let someone in, and he’d abandoned her at the first sign of trouble.
He closed his eyes, remembering the look on Abi’s face as she asked him to dig in. Instead of holding on, as he’d promised, he’d let go—actually dropping her hand and leaving her standing all by herself, staring down the entire Easton clan. Yet, she hadn’t buckled.
Nope, her shoulders had gone back, defiant even when she was one breath from a panic attack.
Jesus, he was an ass. He didn’t even help her, just watched as she slowly spiraled on the inside. And that look of resigned devastation would haunt him forever.
