Owen didn’t let her get too far.
His arm wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her body flush against his chest. She looked down at his arm banded around her, tight and secure. His chest sturdy at her back, like he was willing to shield her from any hurt that may come her way. And then his jaw pressed to her temple, and against her better judgement, she relaxed in his hold.
“You don’t have to be fine. Not around me,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning over her ear.
Wrapped up in Owen’s familiarity, she allowed herself to crack open the box she’d packed away deep in her mind. The box labeledDad. Just for a moment.
And then the first sob burst out of her, followed by another. Owen urged her to turn around, and she sank into his chest. The sobs were so guttural, coming from so deep within, she wouldn’t recognize herself if she’d been outside her body. They burned on their way up, leaving her throat ragged and weak. Tears fell in a steady stream from the corners of her eyes, like a leaky faucet she couldn’t shut off, soaking his shirt with her grief.
Words swelled inside her, demanding to be said aloud instead of tucked deep in her mind, ignored.
“I've been avoiding Dad's office,” she confessed. “I've been in his bedroom and every other room in the cabin but can't seem to bring myself to enter his office. I know it’s going to smell like him. Like oldbooks and tobacco. He always smelled like the open pages of the books he was reading.”
Owen said nothing, but his grip tightened across her back, and his fingers flexing where he’d woven them into her hair. She should want to break from his intimate hold, push him away because she no longer had the right to seek comfort in his arms. But she didn’t. Couldn’t.
“I should've come back,” she said. “I should've been here. I should've known him better and not been so selfish. I should’ve been a better daughter. Did you know he was a substitute at the high school? How did he have time for that when he taught at the University full time? I learned that from a stranger, not even from my own dad.”
Owen rested his chin on the top of her head.
“I didn't. But I know your dad loved this community, and he also loved you,” he said against her hair.
She sniffled and buried her head against his shoulder.
“I don't think I can do this,” she said.
“Do what?”
“This. Everything. The interview and the cabin. I’m overwhelmed. I know there's important paperwork and financials I haven’t even considered yet, but I can't do it.”
Owen’s hand ran soothingly up and down her back. She concentrated on the rhythmic movement and willed her tears to slow.
“You can do this. And you will. You’ve Ava fucking Hanson. You can do anything you set your mind to. Except, maybe not fix stairs,” he said.
A soft snort burst from her, even as her mind refuted him. But she kept it to herself and allowed herself a few more minutes of selfishness cradled in his arms.
Chapter 15
The Intervention
Ava didn’t know how long she’d spent curled up on her dad’s bed, clutching his pillow to catch her tears. It could’ve been hours or minutes, she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that she’d opened that tightly packed box of her emotions and now the long-ignored feelings consumed her entirely.
It said a lot about her mental state that when the bed dipped from the weight of someone joining her, she wasn’t even worried. Why worry? It’s not like anything mattered.
“Oh, Birdie.”
At Summer’s voice, Ava broke into a fresh wave of tears. Part relief, part embarrassment at being caught in her current state. Summer said nothing as she curled up behind Ava, wrapping her arms around her. Ava grabbed Summer’s arm like a lifeline and relaxed against her friend, letting Summer take on the slightest bit of the heaviness that clouded her mind.
“How’d you get in here?”
Summer shrugged, her shoulder pressing into Ava’s back from the movement.
“Key’s still in the same place. Under the decoy loon on the porch. You should probably change that so people can’t break in so easily.”
Ava snorted and shook her head. “Owen sent you, didn’t he?”
Summer shrugged again. “Yeah. He let me inside.”
She closed her eyes, giving into the urge to just sleep. In her sleep, she could get a reprieve from the hollow ache in her chest. When she dreamed, she didn’t have to feel anything.
