“It’s so good to see your face, you have no idea,” he said the moment weconnected.
Seeinghisface, I couldn’t help but smile. Even now, even with a heavy heart. Just seeing him made my lips curve upward.
“How are you, love?” he asked.
The way he said it made me wonder if it was the British ‘love’ they use for everyone or a special one for me.
“I’m okay. Walter is, too. How are you? How was the meeting?”
He inhaled a visibly deep breath on the other end of the line. “They want me to stay. To play. Basically, they want me back as before.”
I nodded, a slow, deliberate motion, my lungs filling with air because hearing the words was so much harder than anticipating them.
“Congratulations, Owen! That’s incredible news,” I said, not replacing a single syllable with an easier one. For the first time in years, my stutter was more pronounced with him. I could feel my face slightly twitching at the effort to get the words out, not because I wasn’t happy for him—I was—but because it changed everything and nothing all at once.
“I haven’t replied to them yet. But the news sites and tabloids are already on it. I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
“It’s all you’ve worked for, what you deserve, what would have happened if you had never sustained that injury in the first place.”
“I know. But I wantyou, Rio.”
“I want this, too. Us. You. But we have to figure out a new way for it to fit,” I said softly. “Your dream is coming back to life, Owen.”
“I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”
I was afraid the next words would stick in my throat, but I had to say them. He needed to know that I wasn’t trying to make him choose. It wasn’t fair to him. It wouldn’t be fair to us. I couldn’t let him believe that my condition to loving him was that he gave up his dream and moved to California. He had to know I loved him either way.
“Owen, I want you to take it. I want you to know I’m still here. My heart is yours, no matter what. I don’t want to be the reason you hesitate. We’ll figure it out.”
Even if we failed figuring it out, I’d still choose him. Every atom in me screamed that loving him might break me—but I couldn’t stop. Owen had been my rescuer time and again—his smile saved me from feeling alone in more ways than one, his body ended my last-standing-virgin status, his heart set me on fire after years of half-felt emotions.
I wanted to do the same for him. Set him free to reclaim his dream—and somehow still be part of it.
38
Owen
I WAS A WORKAHOLIC. Success was the only thing that saved me from being worthless. Every goal, every climb up the charts and leagues, was tangible proof that I was worth loving. But every time I reached what I thought I craved, the emptiness remained. So I kept pushing forward, using the fight to drown out anything I didn’t want to feel—shame, sadness, doubt—always believing the next achievement would finally make me whole.
To the world, I was the picture of happiness. Flawless. Untouchable. Everyone believed it.
Including myself.
I wore my success like armor.
It wasn’t hard to keep my life full enough to leave no room for emptiness—matches, trainings, promotions, parties. My calendar was a war zone.
The quiet that settled over on me in Blueshore was unsettling at first. But without realizing it, I started listening, feeling, connecting—to Walter, to Rio. To myself.
This injury had forced me to meet a version of myself I’d forgotten existed. Another Owen, reflected back at methrough the people who cared—even Simon, despite his harsh words. They were part of the reflection.
In Rio’s eyes, I met the man I knew Icouldbe,wantedto be. The man Iwas.
Rays of sun infiltrated as the fog lifted.
“We need to talk.”I hit the key and sent the text.
39
