I run my finger up and down Owen’s forearm in soft, slow strokes. His fingers twitch every time I get close to his wrist. I watch the way goose bumps pebble his skin when I trace over every vein. They’re like a map to his soul.
Mowgli jumps onto the bed and curls up on my pillow, almost scratching out my eyes.
Owen stirs in his sleep, and the hand that is wrapped around my hips tightens, pulling me into him. I missed them. I missed sleeping with him.
After we cried together on the floor last night, we went up to my room and laid in bed until we fell asleep. The nightmares didn’t stop. It would be a miracle if they did.
In books, confessing the truth sets a person free.
In real life, it doesn’t work that way. I’m going to need lots of professional help to overcome all this shit I’ve been building up and hiding. Hell, I might even up in jail if I confess what I did that day of the accident. In real life, there are consequences.
I need to deal with mine.
“Give me today to try and change your mind,” Owen says into my hair, his voice groggy with sleep.
My eyes flutter closed and I shake my head. “I’ll give you today but I’m still leaving.”
Classes start tomorrow but after everything that has happened this past week, I couldn’t bare the thought of walking around campus, dealing with people. I emailed all my professors and asked if I could do everything online because I’ll be in New York for the next ten weeks, interning at a publishing house. I told Owen this when we came upstairs and climbed into my bed. Telling him in the darkness of my room was easier than watching his face crumble with sadness in the light.
“Will you answer my calls?” he whispers, afraid of already knowing the answer.
I turn in his arms, glancing up at his eyes quickly.
Why did he get his father’s eyes?
Why are they the one thing he can’t permanently change?
Why does his father still haunt me long after he’s gone?
“We need a break, Owen,” I confess. “We need…we’ve always been together. It’s not healthy.” His lips turn down into a frown and his eyes show just how much that confession hurts him. “I need to work on a few things. I need to get better. My therapist said this was a good thing. She thinks a change of scenery will help.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Owen objects. “The best thing for you is being around your friends. Around people who love you.”
My eyes drop to his chest, staring at his black t-shirt like it has all the answers. “Being around you breaks my heart.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. We’re both suspended in this heartbreakingly real moment where the truth dictates our next move.
Owen slides his hand up my side until his thumb and forefinger grab my chin, tilting my head up. He leans forward, his lips meeting mine in a delicate kiss. “Being around you heals mine.”
I grab his right hand and kiss his bandaged knuckles softly. I can’t believe this man ruined his hands when he found out the truth. He bled for me, for us, for everything.
Why do we do this to each other?
Why couldn’t our love story be simple?
“You’ll miss seeing the cherry blossom trees bloom in the quad.”
I smile a sad smile into his palm. “They have them in New York.”
“But New York doesn’t have me,” he answers sadly. He presses his lips against my forehead, my nose, and the corner of my mouth. “We should get up if I plan on spending all day with you.”
“I’ll let Echo know,” I say, sliding out of bed. I quickly make my way down the hall and knock on her open door.
Echo’s sitting against her headboard, eyes glued to her laptop.
“We’re going to be out all day. Want to come?” I know Owen wouldn’t want Echo to come but I can’t not ask her. She’s my best friend. And I’m leaving her too.
She raises her head, her gaze meeting mine. With a small shake of her head, she follows up with, “No, you need to say goodbye to him.”
My heart constricts with that answer. We’ll be apart for ten weeks. Goodbye seems final.
I don’t want to say goodbye.
But I need this.
I need to get away from everyone I know and breathe in a city I’ve never been to. I need to be around people who don’t know what happened to me.
I need to let myself go before I can truly move on.
New York is the place for that.
“Will you be here later?” I ask timidly.
“Sweets, I’m not going anywhere. I need my time with you later.” She blows me a kiss and then brings her attention back to her laptop.
I walk back to my room, my eyes roaming over every inch of the space I spend most of my time in.
My pile of books to be read are sitting on the floor by my window. Standing beside them is Owen in all his sexiness, flipping through the one book I can never read again because it hurt too much.
“Will you ever watch the movie?” he asks, shutting the book and placing it back onto the pile.
I stare at the red cover with the white lettering, tears pooling in my eyes just from thinking about the heartbreakingly beautiful story written on those pages. “Maybe when I’m stronger.”
With you.
I make my feet move toward my dresser. I grab clean clothes and underwear and then point toward the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in twenty.”
Owen nods, his eyes lowering to his feet as he squeezes the back of his neck. “Take your time. I’m in no rush.”
He only has today with me.
This is it. We’re separating.
Is this the beginning to our end?
We’ve never willingly been apart for so long. I wonder if we can survive this.
We spend the day going to all of our favorite places. We walked around Pike Place Market, visiting so many independent shops and stuffing ourselves with sweets from bakeries that made my stomach happy. We then went up Smith Tower where I had to close my eyes and pretend to be somewhere else as we rode the elevator up to the thirty-fifth floor Observatory. I’d been there once before during freshman year and I fell in love with all the history. We wanted to go to the Space Needle but my legs were turning into Jell-O at that point so we decided against it and ended our journey at the Suzzallo library.
“There’s still one thing you need to see,” Owen whispers, dragging me up the grand staircase to the third floor right into the reading room, past all the empty tables that will be filled with students tomorrow when classes begin.
We stop at the third to last row.
When I sit down on the wooden chair at the end of the table, Owen sits beside me and that’s all we do. Sit and stare.
My eyes finally roam around the room, not finding anything I have to see that I haven’t already. It’s just rows and rows of brass-lamped, oak study tables. Books fill the oak bookcases up against the walls.
It’s a reader’s paradise in here.
A boyish grin takes over his lips as his eyes dance over my face. “I had Echo hide a book here and this should be the easiest hint for you.” He points to the bookcase to my left. “There’s something for you hiding on one of those shelves.”
“Echo did something for you?” I question. She’s still not one hundred percent back to liking Owen like she used to. She blames him for his father’s sins. But it’s not his fault that his father was a monster.
It’s not his fault for never thinking his father was capable of such horrid things.
Owen is not responsible for my undoing.
I have to remind myself of this when I think back to what occurred by the creek back in Portland.
He licks his lips and brings his hand up to his face, rubbing the scruff on his jaw. “She threatened to slap me in the face with the book but then she saw what it was…and well, I think she’s my friend again. She only wants what is best for you and I hurt you that day, but she now understands how hard it was for me too. Everything changed.”
I squeeze his hand, silently apologizing for causing that confusion and heartache.
“Go look,” he murmurs.
With that I stand and I go full on psycho as I scan every book lining the shelves. I finger each spine until I make it to the second to last row and I do a double take when I see a light pink paperback with no words on the spine. I pull it out gently. I read the words on the cover. The True Love Story About Two Best Friends Who Were Too Stupid To See It Sooner. There’s no author name. It’s just a pretty photo of a fully bloomed cherry blossom tree on the cover.
I look up at Owen with furrowed brows. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, a delighted smile reaching his eyes. “Open it.”
I flip open the book and read the dedication.
Zoë, I want to fill these pages with my love for you so if you ever doubt it –us–, you can pick up this book and fall in love just like you do for every other fictional character.
Except this is real.
This is us.
I flip to the next page. It’s about us. It’s when we met the first day of kindergarten. “Owen.” My eyes scan every word, flipping through pages like my life depended on it because with every page comes a new story of us.
Every page shows me when exactly Owen started falling in love with me.
I read up until it’s prom night and it’s only because I have tears running down my cheeks that I have to stop. I close the book and set it down on the table as I wipe my eyes.
“When did you do this? You made a book for me?”
He stands and reaches for me, sliding his hands up my arms until he cups my face. “It was your Christmas present. I never got to give it to you.”
Jesus Christ. Who is this man?
He made a book for me. About us.
I blink back more tears and hiccup as I try to find words to explain exactly how I feel. Nothing feels right and I hate that because this means so much and I can’t express it with words. It’s frustrating. I’ve felt this way with books that were so amazing, trying to explain my love for it was futile. I could never do it justice.
“H-how does it end?” It’s a thick book. I only made it halfway. After prom there weren’t many moments we shared. We came to college and I pushed him away, forcing him into a relationship with a girl that didn’t deserve him.
“No spoilers, Zoë. You have to read it from cover to cover.”
I grip his t-shirt and sink into his warm embrace. “That is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received.”
He tightens his hold around me, dropping his head down to my ear, and he says, “Loving you is mine.”
What a bittersweet moment, to be here with the perfect book boyfriend I’ll ever find and I need to let him go.
I look up at him with words stuck in my throat and tears pooling in my eyes.
Cupping my face in his bandaged left hand, Owen runs this thumb down my cheek lovingly. “Stay,” he says, his voice so full of emotion I can feel it penetrate my heart.
I shake my head softly. I can’t.
“Let me love you.”
I blink, the tears slowly cascading down my cheeks as I deliver the final blow. “Let me go. I need to go.” Just for ten weeks. Live your life and don’t worry about me.
His eyes, now the color of dull emerald, turn wet and I have to look away when a stray tear rolls down his cheek, followed by another. “It’s physically impossible to let you go. You’re embedded in my bones. You’re as important to me as the air I breathe.” He forces me to look up, to witness the pain I’m inflicting on him. “You’re a part of me. The only part that matters.” As tears run down his handsome face, he leans forward and kisses my forehead twice, and then my nose, my cheekbones, and finally, he places the softest kiss on my lips. “I love you.”
I wish I could hack into your brain and erase all the data involving me, I think to myself, hating every word.
Owen made my childhood bearable. He befriended the outgoing girl with bright green eyes and he continued to love her even when her thoughts turned as dark as her soul.
He loved her. Me.
And I love him.
I push up on my tiptoes and touch his lips with mine.
“I love you too,” I whisper, not wanting this tender moment to end. I shouldn’t say these words because I want him to let me go. He needs to let me go. Both of us need this distance. When I look at him I see his father. I can’t live like this anymore. I want to see Owen. Just Owen.
I’ve been holding him back too.
And I’m finally setting him free.
It’s a funny thing, feeling trapped. Because while I was caged within these dirty secrets, I was also keeping Owen locked away with me. We kept each other company in some of the worst and happiest moments of our lives.
We were best friends. We became more.
But being with him triggered something inside me and I need to fix that. I can’t keep drowning in the past.
The corners of Owen’s mouth twitch and then he’s smiling and crying all at the same time. “To infinity and beyond.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, weaving his fingers into my hair and slowly massages my scalp.
I can see that he wants to say something more but doesn’t.
This is a temporary goodbye. Neither of us are ready for it.
As I stare at Owen, I see the little boy who chased me around the playground, and the boy who kissed my scraped knee when I fell down and wished he could take away the pain. I see the boy who told me I feel too much and he wanted to feel it all with me. I see the preteen who brought me a bag full of my favorite chocolates and a stack of paperbacks when I got my first period. I see the boy who sat down with me at the creek and tried to get me to smile whenever I was sad.
I see my best friend who held my hand when I was lying in a hospital bed, praying for me to come back because life without me wasn’t a life he wanted to live.
I see the boy who fell in love with a girl who was hiding the darkest of secrets.
I see Owen; the person who had my heart from the very beginning.
I see us. We are one. Zowen.
When I stare at Owen, I see my future.
I could never let him go either.
I’m coming back. I take his face into my hands and I press my mouth against his, pouring everything I have into it. “I’m coming back, Owen. I promise,” I murmur.
My phone rings in my back pocket and because we’re in a library and I respect this place like it’s the Holy Grail, I pull away from Owen and fumble for my phone, hitting the little green phone button. “What?” I answer, whispering like I might get in trouble even though no one is in this room.
“Come back home, sweets. I miss you already,” Echo states, her voice getting a bit higher. “Wait…are you still at the library? You’ve been gone for hours!”
“This is her favorite place, Echo,” Owen calls out, smirking at me.
“Shhhhh!” I hush him and go back to whispering. “We’re leaving now. I’ll be there in less than fifteen min–”
Owen takes the phone from me and hits the end button, dropping my phone on the table. “I have something I need to do first.” He steps forward, causing me to step back until my back hits the bookcase. He looks down at me with heavy-lidded eyes, and it makes me shiver. It feels fucking delightful.
“What do you need to do, Owen?”
“Something every bookworm prays will happen in a library,” he murmurs, his voice getting a little husky.
He takes my face into his hand, and the second his lips touch mine, my knees decide to become useless. I sag against the bookcase, all these famous words our only witness to this magical moment.
Books and Owen. Two of my favorite things.
Owen’s tongue pushes past my lips and this kiss is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He takes my breath away. The way his hands glide down my sides, like water running down the river, makes me sigh into his mouth.
His kiss tells me what he can’t say. This is not our ending. We still have chapters to write in our story.
So I kiss him back with words I can’t say out loud. I don’t want our story to end either.
Once I’m clutching my chest from breathing so hard, and my lips are swollen from being thoroughly kissed, we grab our things and head out of the library, hand in hand.
Two happy hearts beating in sync for the first time in a really long time.
We can be happy. I just need some time.
I drop Owen off at his apartment and then drive back to mine. For a split second, one thought crosses my mind. Nothing haunted my thoughts today.
It’s refreshing. But I know it’s not over yet.
I spend my last few hours here in Seattle with my best friend and my cat.
And by the time it’s early morning, so early the sun hasn’t started to rise yet, I get out of bed, take the world’s longest shower and then I leave a note near the coffee pot for Coco who is sound asleep in her room.
I gather all of Mowgli’s things and set him up in his cat caddy.
I spot my Uber driver outside and I ask if he can help bring my suitcase down. He can’t be more than forty and he looks fit so I can put those muscles to good use.
With my cat patiently waiting for me to set him down in the car, I take one last look at the house that shared a lot of my proudest moments. I’ll miss it.
I’ll miss this city and the people in it.
What I won’t miss is the girl who was tortured by her own mind.
Stopping beside my driver, he holds the door open for me and throws a smile my way. “Ready, miss?”
Something wet hits my cheek and I smile for the first time today.
It’s starting…
“The rain might cause some flight delays. I hear it’s supposed to be downpours all day.”
My eyes flick up to the dark clouds as they unleash their tears. “I love the rain.” I close my eyes for one, two, three seconds and I inhale deeply. “I’m going to miss this.” There’s a low rumble piercing the air, and I know it’s going to be any second now. This is my favorite part.
When I open my eyes, my driver, Barry stares at me with a mix of wonder and confusion.
I set Mowgli’s caddy down on the leather seat before I enter the car. I grab the door handle and nod a thank you to Barry. “Barry, you should get in the car before you get soaked.”
“Will do, miss.” He tips his hat at me and releases the door so I can close it. I always felt weird having people shut my own doors. Previous drivers insisted on getting it for me. It ended up in a tug-of-war over a door.
I hear Barry get into the driver’s seat and no more than one second later, the sky rips open and bleeds for me.
I crack open my window a smidge to smell the rain because isn’t it one of the best smells in the world?
The rain pelting against the rooftop of the car soothes my nerves about getting on a plane. I’ve never liked them either. Too many people.
My phone vibrates from inside my purse. I already know who is texting me so I reach for it and stare at the words on the screen.
Owen: Even the sky is crying for you
I take a deep breath and respond to his message.
Me: It’s such a beautiful sound
The little dots appear on the screen and I wait with bated breath for his next reply.
Owen: I miss you already and you’re still within reach
Because our hearts cannot take the pain of saying goodbye, I stare at his message without replying until we’re pulling into Sea-Tac airport and then I have to put my phone away to help Barry with my things.
I got here three hours early because I knew I wasn’t going to handle seeing Echo cry or the possible chance that Owen showed up at the front door with Freddie.
I knew the rain was coming so I’m prepared with the two books in my purse. I take out the most important one. The one about Owen and me.
And I break my own heart reading every page, knowing that I’m breaking his in the process.