Owen was back in the spotlight.
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Owen ‘Wonder’ Wheaton Is Back Home!
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Wheaton’s New Chapter Starts Today – What’s It Going To Be?
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Back Where He Belongs – Owen Wheaton Set For Talks With Westbridge Management
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I WAS HAPPY TO SEEhis name lighting up the news again, but the jaw-punches these headlines delivered blurred that feeling with ones I’d sworn I wouldn’t entertain. I had to stifle the scream in my head—thatthiswas his home,thiswas where he belonged,Iwas his new chapter.
A text came in the next day.
“Nothing new, Wio. Except that I’m beat.”
“Get into bed then,”I texted back.
“You in yours? Why don’t we switch to video and you show me what I’m missing?”
“I’m at work. Eight hours, remember?”I texted back. He was already adjusting to London time.
“Damn. In that case, have a good day, and don’t let Walter give you a hard time.”
I sighed. If I’d toyed with thoughts of a long-distance relationship before, I knew now—it wouldn’t work. With the time difference, we’d mostly be left with texts. Late-night messages, stolen moments between meetings, between obligations. Scraps of time. This couldn’t last.
Falling back into my old routine came naturally, but I felt split—between two time zones, between here and there. My mind went back and forth, while my heart went in one direction: to where Owen was.
Night lurked as I made my way to Coral Bay after a short stop at home. Ruby had a little house by the Inn.
“You should go there,” Ruby said, popping open a cold bottle of rosé. “Guard away all the models.”
“First of all, he’s only gone for checkups. And second, if he needs me there to guard them away, then ...”
“Fair point. Would you consider going later?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know. I’d be lost and dependent on him there. I don’t know if that’s smart. Soccer is practically a religion there, and he’s ... the archbishop or something.”
“And what do you have here?”
I took the glass she handed me. “A life? My family, my friends.”
“But no Owen.” Ruby gave me a pointed look.
I took a big swig, hoping it would drown the ache rising in my chest.
Ruby took a sip off her glass. “An international fling ... hmm. That’s something I haven’t tried yet.”
She treated it as a fling—something I‘d told myself repeatedly I should adopt.
“Unless you count that Swiss tourist who thought this was the filming site of Big Little Lies.” She laughed again at the memory.
All I had was her tale of the week she’d spent with that tourist. I could see why he’d mistaken the inn and Coral Bay for Monterey Bay. The similarities were there.
