Ember (Constant Flame Duet Book 1)
Page 22
“Sleep, Lena. We have all the time in the world to talk. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. The corner of Lena’s mouth lifted sleepily, and she snuggled closer to him instinctively.
“I know.”
Sunday
Lena woke the next morning feeling slightly less hungover than she might have if she hadn’t thrown up the night before. In terms of actual volume, she hadn’t drunk all that much. The effects of the alcohol had simply been enhanced by the ecstasy. She’d long since learned the limits of her body’s tolerance, and she was certain she hadn’t surpassed them last night.
Lena stretched a little and turned her head to gaze at the man lying next to her. He was beautiful in the low light of the early morning. He’s beautiful in any light, she corrected, smiling at his sleeping face. She felt a rush of affection for him and wondered if the drug still lingering in her system was responsible. Ecstasy had a way of making a person feel connected and loving toward just about everyone, but she didn’t think that was the only thing contributing to her emotions at the moment.
She was utterly amazed that they’d found each other after all that time. What are the odds? she wondered again. The odds… She’d questioned them before, that first day in class when she’d seen his eyes and heard the familiar name. She’d thought they were too astronomical to be plausible, but here she was… lying in bed next to the boy with the sad, green eyes. How was it possible that they’d met thousands of miles away and both ended up in Seattle? That they’d both chosen UW, chosen the same major, and ended up sitting next to each other in a lecture hall? It tested the limits of credibility, but she knew it to be true. Owen was really there, in her life again after fifteen years.
And in my bed, she sighed inwardly. What happens now? Lena knew what he wanted from her, and she was running out of reasons not to give in. She might have been able to resist him had he not been that Owen, but that ship had sailed. She couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he was always meant to be in her life. Lena had never been one to believe in things like fate and destiny, but she was at a loss for another word to describe such a remarkable turn of events. What else could it possibly be?
Only days ago, Owen had admitted to wanting more out of their relationship. She’d tried to push him away, hating the words even as they’d left her mouth, but he’d refused to back down. He’d told her that he wanted to know ‘the real’ Lena. As she watched him sleep now, she wondered if she could find the courage to let him in more than she had already.
The real Lena was the little girl who still lived in her books. She was the child who dreamed of having a mother like everyone else, the girl who sketched sad, green eyes onto every scrap of paper she touched. That Lena remembered that her four-year-old friend had made her feel safe. He’d made her feel less alone at a time when she’d been precisely that. He’d kept her warm and kept the monsters away, whether they were real or imagined.
Lena realized now that the adult Owen still possessed that power. It was part of what had drawn her to him, and she was unnerved at how easy it was to simply be herself around him. He could fit into her life so easily that it was almost frightening… if she would only let him.
She wondered if it was even possible to do anything else now that she knew who he was. Their connection was undeniably strong. It was like the connection of her feet to the earth below her. She could fight it for a little while, keep jumping and leaping away from him, but Lena knew she would inevitably come back.
Owen Langford was, and had always been, her center.
Lena allowed herself to doze off again, hoping to sleep off her hangover entirely, and Owen woke with a quiet groan some thirty minutes later. His muscles were stiff from the hours he’d spent standing outside in the cold the night before, and he stretched experimentally. A soft sigh from beside him drew his gaze toward the head of fiery hair that still shared his pillow. Owen brushed the locks out of Lena’s face and stared at her sleeping form as the events of the previous evening flew through his mind in reverse.
Ellie. It was really and truly her. He’d dreamed of her for fifteen years, clinging to the memory of her at times when he’d literally had nothing else to hold onto. For so long, Ellie had been the only person who’d shown him love, even though he’d had no concept of the word at the time. Through every senseless cruelty, every hateful word, every painful beating... it had been Ellie that had kept him going. He’d survived because of her.
As Owen watched her sleep, his mind shifted to the earlier parts of the evening, and he released a troubled sigh. He didn’t truly understand Lena’s behavior. He knew that she felt pressured by her father on any number of matters, and he supposed that it was natural for someone in that situation to crave a little rebellion. But what she was doing was dangerous. Drugs? Underage drinking? What else is she into that I don’t know about? he wondered. How many times has she done this?
Lena had shed her good-girl persona for an evening of reckless fun, and it had clearly not been the first time she’d done so. The thought of what could’ve happened to her scared the hell out of him. He recalled Tessa’s rather lame explanation of the safety measures they took, but it hadn’t satisfied him. There was no way one sober person could look after four incapacitated ones. He was grateful that they hadn’t been planning to drive anywhere in that state, but that didn’t excuse their behavior.
Everything he’d read online last night had suggested that Lena had taken a relatively low dose of MDMA, the effects of which would last a day or two at most. Supposedly there was nothing to do but watch and wait, and Owen no intention of leaving her unsupervised until he was certain she would be okay. He’d texted Mary late last night to let her know not to expect him for Sunday brunch. Although he hated to cancel on the Langfords, Lena was his priority.
An image of Lena in her vamp rocker outfit and makeup flickered in his mind, and the irritation he’d felt over her behavior returned. Owen tried to imagine himself in her situation, but it was difficult. He supposed that he might’ve made similar bad decisions when he was younger if he hadn’t had a mother who would’ve beat the living hell out of him for it. Of course, it wasn’t that Vera would have been worried about his well-being; she’d have been concerned over how his actions would have reflected back on her.
Owen understood that grief had far-reaching consequences, but Lena’s behavior seemed extreme for someone who had lost a parent as a very young child and who had, as far as he knew, had a reasonably happy childhood otherwise. She doesn’t know how good she has it, he thought bitterly. She has a parent who gives a fuck, who wants her to be happy, who made sure that she had everything she needed and wanted, who never raised a hand to her… Doesn’t she understand how lucky she is? He stifled a growl of frustration and closed his eyes for a moment.
Risking her safety for the sake of some teenage rebellion seemed like the height of selfishness to him, but the moment the thought crossed his mind, Owen felt guilty for judging her that way. He was fairly certain that the only reason Lena was majoring in business was to appease her father. She didn’t seem to enjoy it, but she was preparing to make GC her entire life simply to make Nate happy.
On Friday evening, she’d been impressively confident and articulate with her father’s colleagues. Lena had apparently been groomed for this future for God only knew how long, and it wasn’t one she’d even wanted to begin with. Could he really blame her for needing to cut loose? For wanting to choose something for herself? Owen sighed, his eyes tracing the contours of her beautiful face.
No, he decided, he couldn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that she made the wrong choice. Surely there were other ways to achieve that feeling of liberation that didn’t involve putting herself at risk. Whether Lena accepted a relationship with him or not, Owen wasn’t about to let her take risks like that again. The underage drinking, while not a good thing, didn’t scare him as much as the drug use. He highly doubted that ecstasy was the only drug she’d ever tried.
Owen still had a few memories of his birth mother, though they had faded somewhat when his situation had gone from bad to worse. Vera’s abuses had made Rebecca’s parenting skills look almost impressive by comparison. He remembered Rebecca during her highs and lows, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she had gotten started down that path. Had it been something as commonplace as ecstasy? Marijuana? Prescription drugs? At what point did recreational drug use become a habit or a dependency? He couldn’t imagine Lena going that far, but did any drug addict ever intend to become one?
As Owen studied her in the warm glow of the morning sun, he felt a renewed sense of determination. He would do whatever it took to make sure that she never put herself at risk like that again. They had a lot to talk about, and her recklessness would be first on the agenda.
He’d managed to find his Ellie after fifteen years, and he’d be damned if he was going to lose her now.
Chapter 19
Sunday
When Lena opened her eyes for the second time that morning, the bright sunlight was accompanied by the smell of coffee and eggs. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, recalling Owen’s assessment of his own cooking abilities. She used the restroom quickly and wandered into the kitchen, peeking warily at the stove.
“Thought you said you couldn’t cook,” Lena said with a cautious smile. Owen smiled a little as he shrugged.
“I guess I don’t consider this cooking. I don’t always get them right, but it’s pretty hard to screw up scrambled eggs as long as you don’t let them sit. If you want cheese or anything in them though, I’d suggest you take over. I set a bag of shredded cheddar on fire once,” he confessed. Her eyes widened as she giggled, stepping over to take the spatula from him.
Owen set two plates at the breakfast bar and prepared two cups of coffee to their unique preferences. Once the eggs were finished, Lena scooped a helping onto each plate and took the seat next to him, and she couldn’t help but appreciate the domestic feel of the situation.
“We need to talk about last night. How are you feeling?” His tone was even as he studied her closely. Her high seemed to have passed for the most part.
“Still a little shocked, I think. It’s incredible,” Lena replied, shaking her head once again at the fact that they’d defied such impossible odds.
“Not about that. We need to talk about your behavior.”
“My behavior?” she echoed somewhat incredulously, freezing in the act of stirring her eggs.
“Yes. Look, Lena, I can understand your desire to cut loose a little bit, but surely there are safer ways to do that.” His tone was more critical than he’d intended, and her defensive instincts kicked in.
“I’m responsible when I go out, Owen. I make sure I’m with people I trust, and we always take a cab. I don’t drink to the point of incapacitation, and I never buy from a dealer I don’t know personally. How many college students do you know who are that careful in their ‘behavior?’” she sneered.
“I’m glad you take precautions, but that still doesn’t make it smart or acceptable. I took you by surprise last night. If I’d tossed you over my shoulder and carried you off to my car, you wouldn’t have been able to fight me. And your drunk and high friends wouldn’t have been able to stop me.”
“The club has security. It’s not like we were at some random frat party. I don’t see what the big deal is. Have you honestly never done anything that was against the rules?”
“Not like that. The drinking wouldn’t bother me if you were doing it in a safer place, like at home, but I will never condone drug use no matter how stressed out you feel,” Owen said firmly. Lena gazed at him speculatively, seeing the darkness brooding in his eyes.
“Why does it bother you so much? There’s more to it than you’re letting on.” He sighed and looked away, and she added, “If you want me to take you seriously, then you need to be honest.”
Owen pursed his lips, wanting to talk about pretty much anything except his birth mother at that moment. But he’d opened the door, and now he had to walk through it.
“My birth mother was a drug addict,” he said slowly. “Meth, mostly. When she was high, I might as well not have existed. She looked at me like she thought I was a hallucination, and you don’t bother to feed hallucinations. When she was crashing, she was angry. She was pissed at me for existing, for having needs, for reminding her that she had responsibilities, I guess… So, she hit me and left me alone for long periods while she went out to do God knows what.” Owen paused, staring at his half-empty plate with absolutely no inclination to eat another bite. “I’ve seen what drugs can do to someone’s life, Lena. I don’t want that for you.”
Lena stared at him in shock, and her eyes stung with tears. She’d always wondered why he’d been silent to everyone but her in the foster home, and she’d never understood his aversion to touch. Now it made sense. As the image of that frightened boy swam behind her eyelids, she wondered how he’d managed to conquer the worst of his phobia.
“I’m sorry, Owen,” she said sincerely, her previous temper having evaporated completely. “I swear to you that I’m nowhere near a habitual drug user, and I’m certainly not addicted. I go out two or three times a month at most, and usually it’s more like once or twice. It’s been even less frequent since you started occupying my free time with copious amounts of sex,” Lena teased, trying to coax a smile out of him. It worked, but he wasn’t about to let her off that easily.
“If you’re sure you can walk away from it at any time, then that’s what I want you to do. I want you to prove it. Because that girl I met last night isn’t who you really are. I know that,” he insisted. Owen had abandoned his breakfast and turned his whole body toward her. Lena frowned in silence for a moment, her features slightly weighted with sadness.
“You don’t know who I really am, Owen. No one does. Not even me.”
“That might be true, but I want to know you. Not the deviant from the club last night and not the well-mannered businesswoman-in-training I saw on Friday, because I know that’s not really you either.”
“And how do you know that?” she asked skeptically.
“Lena, I watched you interact with a room full of professional people all evening. I heard you hold your own in conversations with them, and I saw the respect they have for you. You looked very confident, but it was clear, at least to me, that you weren’t actually enjoying yourself. Not once did I see a genuine smile or hear your beautiful laugh,” Owen pointed out. She stared at him in surprise, her bottom lip quivering a little.
“If you could see that… Why couldn’t my dad?” she whispered. Her eyes fell to her lap as she fought to control her emotions. Owen contemplated her question for a moment before settling on an answer. His only experience with good parents came from the Langfords, and he thought of the times he’d known them to be a bit short-sighted.
“I think that sometimes people, parents especially, see what they want to see… or what they expect to see. Nate seems like a good father -”
“The best.”
“- And your devotion to him shows that. You’re willing to put aside everything you want for yourself just to make your father happy. I just… don’t really understand why.”
“I have my reasons,” Lena sighed, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not ready to talk about that yet though.”
Owen frowned in concern but decided to back off for the time being. He didn’t want to push her to the point that she ran away from him. He noted that she’d said the word ‘yet,’ which implied that she didn’t intend to avoid the subject forever, and he was willing to give her a little time.
“Alright,” he conceded, allowing a confident smile to stretch across his face. “How about we talk about our relationship instead?” Lena laughed at his persistence.
“Well, aren’t you ambitious this morning.”
“Always.”
“Let me guess… Now that you know who I am, you’re even more determined to tie me down.”
Lena’s expression was hesitant, torn between her own stubbornness and what she wanted more than anything. All of the reasons she’d given him before were still there, but they didn’t seem as important anymore. They seemed like lame excuses in light of their discovery. But is now really the time to talk about this? she wondered distractedly. She didn’t feel high anymore, but she was nervous at the idea of discussing anything so important under the circumstances.
Or was that merely another excuse? The proverbial brass ring was dangling right in her face, but she was afraid to reach out and grasp it. Could she hold it and keep it? Or would it slip through her fingers when she inevitably failed him too?
Owen watched her inner battle play out in her features, and he shook his head as he took her hands in his.
“You’re thinking too much, Lena. It doesn’t have to be so complicated. I know that you’re afraid to let anyone in, and I truly understand how that feels… But I know I can trust you, and deep down, you know you can trust me too. I can’t promise to be the perfect guy, and I don’t expect you to be perfect either. But I can promise that I will never betray you. I’ll never intentionally hurt you, and I’ll never leave you. You’ve been my only constant since I was four years old,” he smiled sadly. “Even though you weren’t there physically, you were never far from my thoughts, and you were always in my heart. You know as well as I do that we’d be complete and utter fools not to see this through. We’re supposed to be together.”