I mess with my hair, tightening and then loosening my ponytail. “That was…was annoyingly noble of him then.” I blink, not sure how to process everything. “And I’m so sorry to hear about your loss.”
“Thanks. It was really hard on Danielle, which is why she’s being so cautious now.”
“Oh, I totally understand. Well, not totally since I’ve never been pregnant, but I can only imagine.”
Logan nods. “Don’t give up on him yet.” He pats my shoulder and looks at the car. “Danielle’s not feeling well, so we’re going to head home, but I wanted to at least let you know why he seemed like a raging alcoholic tonight.” He gives me a smile that almost mirrors Owen’s cocky grin. “Maybe a second chance is on the horizon?”
I laugh. “Fat chance. What we had…” I shake my head. “It was a once in a lifetime kind of thing.”
His eyes go to the car, looking at Danielle through the window. “Well, you never know.”
“Sure,” I say, not wanting him to press this anymore. My resolve is crumbling, and I’m desperately reaching and picking up broken pieces from the ground. I loved Owen with everything I had. More than I loved myself. Way more than I loved Todd.
I can’t risk being hurt by him again.
“And I won’t say anything about the baby,” I tell Logan as he takes a step toward the porch steps. “Congrats again. I’ll keep you guys in my thoughts.”
“Thanks.” He smiles. “We have a good feeling about this one.”
“You’ll make a good dad,” I tell him and mean it.
“It’s kind of scary to think about, but thanks.” He dashes down the porch steps, going around to the driver’s side of his car. Danielle gives me a little wave as they pull away from the house, and I’m left there feeling bad for jumping to conclusions. But does this mean Owen really has changed?
I suppose there’s only one way to find out.
“Was that Owen?” Carly asks as soon as I open the front door.
“That was Logan.”
“They look so much alike.”
“Well, they are identical twins,” I laugh.
Carly glances into the living room, where her kids are watching a movie. “Did you ever get them mixed up and accidentally sleep with the wrong twin?”
“You’ve watched too much cheap porn.”
“So you’re saying yes, that did happen? Or maybe you really knew all along but went with it anyway?”
“Cheap, badly written porn.”
“Ohhh, or maybe you did them both at the same time!”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “No, no, and no. I don’t think they’d be into incest in that way.”
“But is it really?”
“Stop reading the Jamie and Cersei fan fiction, please.”
“Hey, I haven’t read any of that in like a year,” she laughs. “But what did Logan want?”
I shake my head. “Nothing important.”
“If you say so.” Giving me one last look, Carly goes into the living room to tell her kids it’s almost bedtime. They protest and I dash up the stairs before I get caught in the crossfire. I like being the cool aunt but won’t go against Carly’s parenting. She’s an awesome mom, and one day those kids are going to realize it.
Back in my room, I change out of my dress and put on comfy shorts and an oversized t-shirt with Disney villains on it. After washing off my makeup, brushing out my hair, and brushing my teeth, I get back into bed to finish the movie. This time, I make it another ten minutes before I close my laptop again.
I don’t know if Owen needs his truck in the morning. Or if he’s feeling sick right now.
“Stop it,” I tell myself, knowing I’m trying to come up with excuses to go see him. Putting my head in my hands, I rub my eyes and think about him. Of his deep brown eyes. His perfectly messy hair. The ripples of muscles over his chest. His abs. That sharp V on his waist…
“I need help,” I tell Tulip and flop back on the bed. Wrestling with the desire to go drive back to Owen’s, I get up and slip out the door. I trip over one of the dogs in the dark hall.
“Sorry,” I say, not sure which one I tripped over. They look exactly alike in the daytime. It’s impossible to tell them apart at night. Nevertheless, the dog follows me downstairs and into the kitchen. I grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, pull out the stopper, and put it to my lips.
I chug just enough to prevent me from driving anywhere.
“There,” I say, satisfied with my inability to go over to see Owen, though the wine is going to make me want to even more. I put the bottle back only to take it back out again and carry it upstairs.
Tulip tries to dash out of the room when I go back in. Poor cat. I hate that she’s been confined to one room…and that her litter box is on the other side of my nightstand. It’s only temporary. We’ll get through this.