This One’s For You Page 40

  Owen moved to the side as I rose to my feet. I took a few steps, looking back to see him standing, and wiped away the tears. “I’m sorry.”

  It was the last thing I said to him before walking away.

  THIRTY

  I SAT ON MY BED, watching as Amelia packed up the last of her belongings. I stared at the empty side of her room. The bed was stripped of her blankets, her half of the closet was barren, and her desk was cleared off.

  She was moving out. She and Callen had found a small apartment not far from campus. Last week, the two of them snuck off and eloped in Vegas—they were starting a family together.

  It was still hard for me to wrap my head around the details of their relationship, only because I was shocked that I hadn’t caught on. It started almost as soon as they met. That time she came back from Christmas break with a tan was from being in California with Callen.

  The reason the two had such hostility between them and why Amelia went AWOL, was because while they were there, Callen had confessed he had fallen in love with her. Amelia freaked out—she didn’t want to ruin what they had going. Apparently, fate had other things in store for them.

  Now, they were lovesick puppies who couldn’t keep their hands off one another. I was constantly reminding them that was how the bump on Amelia’s stomach happened. Which did no good.

  Callen was over the moon to be a father. Amelia was more afraid than he was. She was filled with worries that he would go to resent her if he didn’t pursue a professional basketball career and was always doubting herself as a mother and newly found wife. We tried to reassure her that she was going to be great, but I don’t think it did any good to calm her nerves.

  I was sad she was moving out, but happy for her.

  “Don’t look so miserable.” Amelia said, closing the distance between us. She sat down next to me and threw her arms around me. “You’re still going to see me all the time.”

  “I know,” I responded. I laid my head on her shoulder. “It’s not just that, though.”

  Amelia sighed next to me. “Have you talked to him?”

  “Not since that day you were in the hospital.”

  “You should talk to him.” She perked up. She slapped my knee and stood up. Turning to me, she had a wide grin on her face. “March across the room, knock on his door, and talk to him. It’s that simple.”

  “Yeah?” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. It wasn’t as simple as she thought. “And say what? I made a mistake. That I love him, and I want to give it another go?”

  “It’s a start.”

  I laid back on my bed. I wished it were that easy. If it was, I would’ve done weeks ago. It was too late now. I didn’t honestly expect him to greet me with open arms.

  I barely saw Owen anymore. Just casual glances as we walked by one another. He stopped being the TA for my mythology class. And it seemed like we went out of our way to avoid one another.

  I realized the second I had walked away from him that I was making the wrong decision. I had looked over my shoulder and saw him walking away in the opposite direction. I had almost stopped him, but I couldn’t force my feet to move, or for the words to come out.

  So many times had I stopped outside his door, ready to knock on it, only to enter my room instead. The days had turned into weeks, and before I knew it, two months had gone by. It was too late now. My chance at fixing things was long gone.

  “Besides.” I exhaled slowly. “Even if I did, it’s not like we’d ever get back what we had. Everything is different now. I’m a different person than I was.”

  It was the truth. In the time that had passed, so much had changed. I had started seeing a therapist here and was learning to deal with my emotions on my own. And the biggest change was I was driving again.

  It only took another hole in my heart to mend the first one.

  I was making progress. Slowly, but I was getting there. I talked freely about Reagan now, almost to anyone who would listen. I told Callen and Sam about the accident, but for some reason, they didn’t seem surprised when I told them. I was certain they already knew.

  I didn’t hide the photo album under my pillow either. No, it sat proudly on top of my desk, open for anyone who wanted to take a look. I talked about her on social media, about how much I missed her, and how much I thought about her all the time.

  There were times I could think of her without breaking into tears. More often than not, the tears I shed over her stemmed from laughing so hard while recounting a story about the two of us.

  “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.” Amelia’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I watched as she shoved a pair of shoes into a bag. “I mean, do you want things to be like they were? It didn’t turn out so well.”

  She had a point.

  “You’re right,” I answered. “I just don’t know . . .”

  “Well, you’re going to have a lot of time thinking about it now that you’re going to be all alone.”

  I sat up and frowned. I hated the thought of being in our room—our makeshift home—alone. But I hated the idea of getting another roommate more. Which was why Amelia didn’t tell the school she was moving out.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, resting her hand on her growing belly.

  I jumped off the bed and rushed to her side. “Are you okay? Is the baby fine?”

  “Yeah.” She laughed. “I think Daddy’s little boy is going to end up playing soccer. The way he keeps kicking my rib cage, I’m surprised he hasn’t broken one yet.”

  I laughed lightly. I wrapped her into my arms, pulling her in closely. We stood like that for several minutes, neither of us wanting to pull away. When we finally did, I picked up the duffle bag off her bed and slung it over my shoulder.

  I took one last look around her half of the room. “I think that’s it.”

  “Callen should be pulling into the parking lot any second now,” she responded. She pulled out her phone and started firing off a text rapidly.

  I tried to glance over to see what she was writing, and she shied away. It was probably for the best. The last time I had done that, I read something that had permanently scarred my memory. The two were a match made in heaven with their unfiltered mouths.

  “All right, let’s go,” Amelia said.

  We exited the room and walked down the hall toward the elevator. The lobby downstairs was particularly empty.

  I stumbled a few steps when we reached the parking lot and I saw Owen and Callen standing in front of the beast whispering to each other. Owen’s gaze met mine as we approached the car. He reached out, taking the duffle bag from my shoulder. I winced as my body hummed with energy.

  He walked to the back end of the car, disappearing out of view.

  “Now’s your chance,” Amelia whispered in my ear. Owen reappeared, and my heart started to beat wildly in my chest. “Well, we’re off,” Amelia said cheerfully. “Lots of unpacking to do.”

  She pecked me on the cheek, patted Owen on the shoulder, grabbed her husband’s hand, and dragged him toward the car. She climbed into the passenger seat, waving at the both of us. The two of us stood quietly as they backed out of the parking spot and disappeared down the street.

  “Can I walk you back to your room?” Owen asked. I glanced up at him, and nodded.

  We walked quietly, side by side. I thought about all the things I wanted to say. By the time we had reached the courtyard, nothing sounded right in my head.

  Before I realized what I was doing, I placed my hand on his upper arm and pulled him to a stop. “Owen,” I started to say. My mouth hung open, and I struggled to form the words.

  Owen stepped in front of me, our bodies separated by mere inches. He reached up, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and grazed my cheek with his thumb. He stared down at me with wide eyes.

  I exhaled slowly. “There’s so many things I want to say, but I don’t know where to start.”

  He placed his hand over my heart, patting it gently. “Why don’t you
start here? What’s in here?”

  “It’s hard,” I whispered.

  He took a small step forward, cupping my cheeks with his hands. “Why? Look inside, and figure out why.”

  I closed my eyes. I knew why it was hard to tell him. I was afraid of how he would respond. “I’m afraid . . .” I said under my breath.

  “So am I,” he admitted. His lips hovered just above mine. “All I know is that I want you,” Owen continued in a soft whisper. “I want us, more than I have ever wanted anything in the world.”

  “Me too.”

  “Then what’s stopping us?” he asked. I looked away.

  Despite the changes I had made, there was one thing I was still clinging onto—the promise I made Reagan. It was all I had left of her. Owen turned my head back to him, staring deeply into my eyes. He sighed, as if he knew what I was thinking.

  “The promise.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. “I understand why you’re clinging to it. I get it, I really do. But think about it for a moment. If Reagan were here, what would she want for you? She’d want you to be happy if there was a chance for it. Just because she isn’t here, doesn’t mean you have to stop living. You’re not honoring her memory by not following your heart.”

  “Stop . . .” I whispered.

  I knew what he was saying. It’s what everyone had been preaching to me lately. It might’ve seemed silly, clutching to a promise I made to my best friend as if my life depended on it. I knew why I was doing it too . . . I was afraid to jump in headfirst. Once I started sinking, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever resurface. Not this time.

  The promise was my scapegoat—the only reason I had for not giving us another chance. We had both made mistakes, ones that hurt the both of us, and I wasn’t sure if I was willing to put my heart on the line again. Only for it to be shoved back down my throat.

  “No,” he continued. “You know why, because I love you. I. Fucking. Love. You. With everything that I am.”

  My breathing hitched at his words. I stared at him, wondering if I was making it all up. He didn’t really just say that. I was hearing things.

  “You might be willing to throw it all away because of some promise, but it’s an excuse. One preventing you from going after what you want. And I’m not ready to let you just walk out of my life. I’m going to be there every single day. Reminding you of that, reminding you of what we could have, and I’ll never stop. I’ll continue to chase after you, even it means chasing you to the ends of the earth.” He paused for a moment, pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth. “You snuck your way into my heart when I wasn’t expecting it. And we’re here now, in this moment, and that’ll never change. Neither will how I feel about you.”

  “You love me?” It was the only thing I could think to say.

  He laughed lightly. I watched his Adam’s apple move down as he swallowed. “Out of all that, that’s what you get from it?” He shook his head. “Yes, I love you! What do you want me to do? Stand up on this bench”—he got up on the cement bench in the courtyard—“and shout it for everyone to hear? Because I will . . .”

  “Owen!” I looked around. There wasn’t a large crowd mingling throughout the courtyard, but there were enough people to embarrass the ever-living crap out of me. “You don’t have to do it.”

  A wide smile danced across his face. He winked at me and raised his hands into the air. His arms were in a V, like when people got excited at a sporting event. He looked up to the sky and shouted, “I’m in love with Brennan Daniels.”

  I felt the blood rushing to my face, instantly turning it to the brightest red in the color palette. He hopped down from his makeshift stage and pulled me into his arms. “Happy now?” he whispered.

  I laughed, my cheeks still burning. “Yes.”

  He crashed his lips against mine, kissing me deeply. He pulled my body closer to him. My body surged with energy. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to grab a handful of his hair that was no longer there.

  “I hate that you cut your hair,” I mumbled through the kiss. I pulled back, looking at the top of his head. He tugged me toward him again before I could say anything else.

  The kiss was full of passion. Full of love. It was nothing like I had ever felt before. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to keep his soft lips on mine. Our lips parted, our tongues dancing with one another. He tasted like mint. His hand around my lower back pulled me closer than I imagined was possible. An electric current flowed between us, igniting a spark, one I had only ever felt with him. By the time it was over, we were both panting, trying to fill our lungs with air. He pressed his forehead against mine, his nose grazing mine, and stared into my eyes.

  “I. Love. You,” he reiterated.

  “And I you.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  “BRENNAN, WE’RE GOING to be late!” my mother shouted from down the hall.

  I stared into the mirror in my old bedroom. Owen walked up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and nuzzled against the crook of my neck. I took a deep breath, and sighed heavily.

  “You ready?” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

  I nodded to him. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Owen kissed my cheek before releasing me. Taking me by the hand, he led me out of my room. As we walked toward the living room, a million thoughts trickled through my head. I took slow, steady breaths, hoping that the tears I’d been keeping at bay would wait just a bit longer. I had to make it through today.

  We were going to meet up with Reagan’s parents out at the site of the accident. It was going to be the first time I had seen them since the funeral.

  A few weeks after Owen and I confessed our true feelings for one another, I was still struggling with things. I had thought that the promise I made to my best friend was only a scapegoat. It still might’ve been, but I fought with it daily.

  Owen suggested that I should see Reagan’s family, face the guilt I was dealing with, to face my emotions. It took me a while to agree, but I finally did. And that’s why we were here now.

  I entered the living room, and the room fell silent. I looked around the room. Everyone was wearing purple in some way, which I had requested. It was Reagan’s favorite color. I took the time, meeting each and every one of their eyes.

  When I locked my eyes with Amelia, she didn’t hesitate to cross the room and pull me into a hug. Her large belly created somewhat of a barrier, and I had to lean forward. She placed her hands on my cheeks, staring into my eyes, and nodded. Giving me the silent encouragement that I need. I smiled as she took her place by Callen, who wrapped his arms around her, and caressed her very pregnant belly.

  My father glanced at his watch. “I guess it’s that time.”

  We all filed out of the house, one by one. We climbed into separate vehicles. I needed to be with just Owen as we made the drive. As he made his way to our destination, I held his hand with one of mine and clung to the locket around my neck, the donut charm back in its respectful place next to it.

  We parked along the side of the road and climbed out. Owen rounded the car quickly, taking my hand into his, and I started to lead the way down the path that had forever changed my life.

  My chest was tight, my hands were shaky, and my vision was starting to blur. I gasped, a tear falling down my cheek when I saw them—purple balloons. More than I could count. I stopped, taking them in.

  “Brennan?” Owen said quietly.

  “I-I’m fine,” I choked out.

  We started our trek down the hill again. As we drew closer, I saw them standing there with their arms wrapped one another, overlooking Lake Washington. Reagan’s parents turned as they heard our approach. It took one look at her mother’s face, and I was racing toward her.

  I threw my arms around her, my knees weak, and finally released the sob that rose in my chest. “Oh, darling,” her mother whispered, smoothing her hand down my hair.

  “I’m so sorry.” My voice cracked. She pulled b
ack to look at my face. A lump forming in my throat when I stared into the familiar brown eyes that I had so desperately missed. Reagan looked just like her mother. Making it hard for me to look at her now. “I . . . I . . . should’ve—”

  “No apologizing, Brenny,” she said, patting my cheek. My heart swelled at the use of the nickname Reagan used to call me. “We understand.”

  She looked back to Reagan’s father, who closed the distance separating us, and wrapped his arms around us both. I hugged them fiercely, never wanting to let go. I missed them terribly. Almost as much as I missed their daughter.

  We cried together for a few minutes. I, mourning the loss of my best friend, them, mourning the loss of their daughter. When finally broke away, I turned to face my family and friends. All of their faces were wet and their eyes glistened in the bright sunlight hanging high in the sky.

  I noticed Ronnie hanging at the back of the crowd. I made my way through, wrapped my arms around his waist, and squeezed him with all my might. We didn’t need to say anything to know how the other felt. All of it was said right there in that hug.

  I released him, then went to stand by Owen, and took his hand in mine. I clung to his hand, trying to draw the strength that I needed.

  “Thank you.” My voice cracked. I looked around at everyone. “For being here.”

  I buried my head into Owen’s arm, needing a moment to pull myself together. I took a deep breath before facing everyone again. “You know,” I laughed lightly, my throat hoarse from the cries. “I had a long speech for today. And I seemed to have forgotten it.”

  “Reagan always said you were missing a few nuts in that head of yours,” her father teased. I glanced at him, offering him a warm smile. His dimples appeared, the only thing Reagan seemed to inherit from her father, as he smiled back at me.

  “I . . . I just want to thank you guys,” I continued, locking my gaze on her parents who stood across from me, “for raising such a beautiful person. I miss . . .” My voice broke. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I miss her every day. Reagan was unlike any person I had ever met before. She was friends with everyone she came across. She had this warm, affectionate smile that lit up the whole room. She was funny, sometimes too funny, but that’s what made her so great. Wherever she went, laughter was sure to follow.” I was rambling. I paused, getting my thoughts in order. “Anyway . . . losing her wasn’t just a great loss for us, but it was a travesty to the world. And while she might be gone, she lives in all of us. Her legacy carries on in the hearts of everyone who was fortunate to meet her. And I think that’s pretty damn awesome.”