Page 94 of Ship Happens

“Yeah.” Owen smiles at him tenderly. “It did.”

“I think you were right, when you said that we’re bad at being exes.” Jacob leans over the table, the shadows on his face shifting when he moves. “Then again, I’m not sure I ever wanted to figure that out in the first place.”

“Can’t say I did either,” Owen admits. “Being single sucks.”

Jacob swallows, something changing in his eyes, the way that he looks at Owen. Like he wants to ask Owen a question. Something compels Owen to reach across the table, past the small glass candle holder and the salt and pepper shakers, to wrap his hand around Jacob’s.

“Everything okay?” Owen asks.

“Yeah, yeah. I just . . . I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Jacob’s gaze shifts down to the table.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Owen asks softly.

“I told myself that this wasn’t the right thing to do,” he begins to say, which is inspiring all kinds of confidence in Owen. “But I guess I can’t make a big show of this and not tell you.”

“Not unless you want me to throw myself into the ocean.” Owen forces a laugh to break the tension, only half joking. “Now stop dragging this out. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been giving this a lot of thought . . .” Jacob starts, his eyes focused downward, like he’s so ashamed of what he has to say that he can’t quite meet Owen’s gaze. “And I think I want to come back.”

It’s not quite an out-of-body experience, but it’s certainly close. Owen processes the words, repeating them to himself over and over again, unsure if he’s actually heard Jacob correctly. Because he couldn’t have. Right?

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Owen’s not sure he speaks out loud, not really.

“Do you want the truth?” Jacob asks.

Owen nods.

“Since the moment I ended the call. The night we broke up.” Jacob says carefully. “I almost called Dr. Peters, almost told him that I couldn’t take the job.”

“What stopped you?” Owen asks.

“You did.” Jacob cracks a smile, a genuine one, one that shows off those dimples. “I could just hear your voice, calling me an idiot for giving up this chance. So I stuck with it, knowing that it’s what you’d probably want me to do.”

It was—it is what Owen wanted Jacob to do.

“Why bring this up now?” Owen asks. “What changed?”

“Seeing you again,” he says to Owen, longing heavy in his words. “It hit me just how much I missed you. And how big of a mistake it was to leave you behind.”

“Don’t say things like that, Jacob.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because . . .” Owen swallows, taking his hand back reflexively. “Because it’s over, we ended things.”

“You’re telling me that if you could go back in time and undo that night, you wouldn’t?”

Owen pauses, knowing the answer. He also knows that it’s not the smart thing to say right now. “You really want to come back to San Francisco?”

“I could,” Jacob tells him. “I mean, I don’t have a ton in savings, we might be stuck with Kaitlyn and Abigail for a little bit. I could apply down at Stanford, try my luck at UCSF again; maybe the Academy of Sciences is hiring?”

“After everything we’ve gone through, after you’re finally getting the chance to do the thing you’ve wanted to do. You’d just . . . toss that all away?”

Jacob’s expression shifts to a careful sort of annoyance. “I’m not ‘tossing away’ anything, Owen. I . . . I don’t understand, I thought that you’d be happy.”

Owen hesitates, guilt stirring in his stomach. “You always do this.”

“Always do what?”