Our Alternate Ending

by Katie Fox

  All my defenses shot up. Okay. We were playing the question game. Fine. I’d play. “And what about you, Owen?” I snapped. “What are you hiding? What has happened to you that has you cutting off everyone important in your life? Is that why you struggle to sleep at night?”

  Owen’s eyes flicked from one of mine to the other, and just like that, he let me go. “We’re not doing this.” He gave his head a harsh shake and then left me standing in my room, making his way through my apartment and toward my front door.

  Yes. Yes, we were doing this.

  I chased after his steps. “And what about Saturday night, huh? Why the hell did you walk away from me and then not even have the guts to return? Was it that bad? Was I that bad—”

  With his hand on the doorknob, Owen swung around, a frown creasing his forehead and his jaw clenched tight. Anger and something else swirled behind his eyes. Hurt maybe? It looked like hurt. “You can have the day off, but if you don't show up tomorrow, then don't bother showing up at all. Got it?”

  My door slammed shut not even a breath later, and those tears collecting in my throat finally escaped. They rolled silently down my cheeks, and I let them. I let them fall because they needed to be the only ones that ever would when it came to Owen Caldwell.

  For the second time that day, an obnoxious pounding on my front door echoed throughout my apartment as I lay on my couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling. I wasn’t in the mood for company. The last person to show up uninvited had cut me open, leaving me hurt and raw. Flinging my arm over my eyes and making no attempt to move, I yelled to whoever stood outside.

  “Unless you’re selling Girl Scout cookies or tickets to a new life, I’m not interested!”

  A grunt of amused laughter floated down my entrance hall, the deep sound muffled as it reached my ears.

  “Sorry, doll. No new lives here, but I do have chocolate, popcorn, a movie, and a huge bottle of vodka.”

  Grumbling in defeat, I swung my legs off the couch and trekked down the hall, my arms hanging loosely by my sides. I quickly unlocked the deadbolt and slid the chain free from its lock before pulling the door open a crack and sticking my head out. “You had me at chocolate.”

  As if my appearance was downright repugnant, Drew jumped back a foot. His blond brows crawled up his forehead at a rate that had me sighing at his reaction. I looked like hell. I didn’t need his animated gestures to remind me. Showering had been the last thought on my mind, and I had no plans to entertain anyone, not even my best friend. What did it matter if my hair was matted from tears or my cheeks were stained red? What did it matter if I was lying on the couch feeling sorry for myself and sinking further into my own pit of despair?

  “Oh, honey.” His eyes flicked over me. “I should have bought a bigger bottle of vodka.”

  I frowned, my entire frame sagging at his words. “Do I seriously look that terrible?”

  Drew pinched his lips together, giving me a small nod, and I pulled the door open wider so he could enter. As soon as he did, he wrapped a supportive arm around my shoulders and hugged me to his ribs, placing a comforting kiss to my temple. “Now don’t you worry, Drew is going to get you all fixed up.”

  I rested my head against his shoulder and allowed him to guide me down the entrance hall and back into my living room. “Drew talking about himself in the third person is kind of creepy.”

  He laughed, and in what seemed like no time at all, we were both curled up on the couch together, deep in a conversation I’d never in a million years imagined myself having.

  “I’m so stupid. Who the heck does that? Who falls for their boss? It sounds so…stupid.”

  Drew’s fingers combed through my hair as he sipped on his vodka martini. “Stop beating yourself up. You’re human and gorgeous. Hell, I’d sleep with you if I was straight, and well, he’s sexy as fuck. It was inevitable that you two would fall for one another. It makes perfect sense.”

  Only it didn’t. It didn’t make sense at all.

  I sighed loudly and shook my head. “It has nothing to do with him being attractive. He is attractive, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the way I feel when I’m around him. This weekend especially. Sure, maybe we were caught up in the moment, but if that’s the case, then why did it feel so right?”

  “Honey, if sex or foreplay doesn’t feel right, then I’m afraid to tell you this, but you’re doing something wrong.”

  Smacking him across his chest and listening to him yelp, I reached for the bowl of popcorn and stuffed a handful of the buttery goodness in my mouth while rolling my eyes. “I know how to have sex, and I’ll have you know, I’m pretty damn good at it. I’ve never had any complaints in that department.”

  Now it was his turn to give me an eye roll. “Says the woman who hasn’t had sex in three years. You sure you don’t have any dusty cobwebs down there that scared him off?” He quickly chased his words down with another sip of his drink, and I glared at him, nearly causing him to spit it out everywhere.

  “You’re an asshole,” I mumbled under my breath. “And please, you do enough sleeping around for the both of us. Heck, I’m pretty sure you’ve slept with over half the men in New York City.” We both shared another giggle before the humor faded, and this time I swung around and stretched myself out, resting my head on his lap. Drew looked down at me with pity in his eyes. “He’s different, Drew. He goes out of his way to do things for me and I feel it—I feel this connection between us—and I know he feels it, too, but he’s fighting it. And you were right. There is more to him. Something is going on with him, and I’m desperate to discover what that may be, but as soon as we take two steps forward, we’re thrown five steps back. I don’t know how to get us running on the same path.”

  “I wish I knew what to say, honey, but I’m the last person you should be asking for relationship advice. The only thing I can say is give him time. Allow him to process what happened this weekend and see if he comes around. If not, then it’s his loss. You’re a beautiful woman, Elle, and you deserve someone who is willing to give you the world and then some.”

  Drew’s words hung around in the air long after he’d said them, and my mind ran in circles trying to make sense of this mess Owen and I had created between us.

  You deserve someone who is willing to give you the world and then some.

  My head still resting on Drew’s lap, I rolled onto my side and flicked on the TV, not at all interested in actually watching the movie he brought with him.

  But he is…he is giving me everything.

  A lot happened over the course of the next three weeks. Owen and I slipped back into the game of avoidance, and I figured it was better that we kept our distance from each other rather than risk falling into another screaming match or, worse, kissing, since our mutual attraction for one another was no longer something that needed to be hidden. The first round of edits had been completed on the Bower manuscript, and we were just waiting to hear from Liam as to when we would begin moving forward with marketing. Drew had called it off with the older gentleman he had been seeing, and I feared he had more commitment issues when it came to relationships than Owen. But the biggest and most irritating thing of all was that I had developed a serious case of writer’s block.

  I blamed it on Owen. Reading my manuscript and then tearing me apart about it had killed any and all motivation. I’d still been hauling my notebook with me everywhere, but try as I might, every time I’d opened it to the last place I’d left off, nothing would come out. Frustrated, I’d resorted to my usual methods of inspiration, but they always ended with me in the large black hole that was Pinterest, looking at food recipes or organization ideas that had absolutely nothing to do with writing.

  It was a no-win situation.

  So, I gave up for the time being. I left my dream sitting in the drawer and focused on more pressing matters. Kimmi’s wedding was a week away, and I’d already submitted my time off request with Millie even though I hadn’t been with the company for ninety da
ys, meaning I wouldn’t be paid for the time I was away. It sucked, but I was used to getting by on a minimal cash supply. My rent was paid for the month, which was the only thing that really mattered, and I had about five different flavors of Ramen noodles to give my dinners some variety. I was set.

  A small knock on my office door dragged me out of my thoughts, and I lifted my head to see Owen standing there, his hands in his pockets. “Are you busy?”

  “I am, but it can wait, I guess.”

  He was still my boss. We still needed to be civil, especially while in the presence of other people. Setting my pen beside the stack of papers I was working my way through, I pressed back in my seat. “What’s up?”

  He walked farther into my office, stopping in front of my desk. “I was just with Millie, and she mentioned your time off request. I’m sorry, but I can’t approve it.”

  “What?” I shot forward, my hands gripping the arms of my chair at his words. “What do you mean you can't approve it? It's my sister’s wedding, Owen. I can't not go.”

  He blinked, realization dawning at the importance of my request. “Shit. That’s right.” Glancing around my office, he reached up to massage the back of his neck and sighed before flicking his gaze back to me. “I'm just going to have to come with you then.”

  My mouth fell open. “Excuse me?” There was no way, no way he was coming with me. The last time we traveled together it had ended in disaster, and well, more to the point, it wasn't a work conference or a business affair.

  This was personal. This was my family.

  He was my boss.

  Yeah. It wasn't happening.

  “I have to, Elle. We don't have a choice. Liam is aiming for a spring release, which means, starting next week, it's all hands on deck as far as this manuscript is concerned. Granted, they’ll be taking care of the brunt work, but there is no way we can go a week without being able to reach you. This is your project, remember?”

  “Owen this is my sister’s wedding. Her wedding.”

  “I know.” He scrubbed his hands down his face and then gripped the back of one of the leather chairs in front of him. “It would be different if you had a laptop...” His voice trailed. “Wait. Why the hell don't you have a laptop? With that small apartment you're living in and the wage I'm paying you, there is no excuse for you to not have one.”

  I dismissed his question. “Never mind. I just don’t.” I wasn't even going to go there with him. “And if it’s as simple as me needing a laptop, then I’ll borrow a company one.”

  He contemplated it for a minute and then shook his head. “No. It’s not that simple. Things are going to need to be signed off on and we need to be together in order to collaborate. You’re going to have to just deal with me accompanying you, I’m afraid.”

  I lifted a brow.

  God, he couldn’t be serious.

  “Look, you can still participate in everything that you need to do, the rehearsal dinner, the wedding and reception, whatever else. I'll remain at the hotel, and we can meet up in the evening. Liam and the rest of the team are three hours behind us, so it actually works out quite perfectly.”

  I stared at him.

  He was deadly serious.

  There was no point in continuing to argue. Owen Caldwell was coming home with me, whether I liked it or not.

  OUR FLIGHT ARRIVED almost an hour early, and I was secretly happy that it did because it meant I could part ways with Owen before my mother and father came to pick me up from the airport. We hadn’t said much to each other on the way there, and I didn’t know if it was because we were still playing avoidance or if it had anything to do with Owen’s fear of flying. I settled on the conception that it was a little bit of both.

  As we stood outside of the pickup terminal, Owen reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. “I’m going to text you the number and address of the hotel I’ll be at and—”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  His brows lifted in question, and I proceeded to tell him the small town of Rock Bay, Maine was home to only one hotel in the entire area. He would have known this if he’d placed a room reservation, but I figured like most things he had left Millie to the task.

  He nodded and then sat down on the bench beside me, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. Cars and taxis swooshed by as they rolled to a stop along the sidewalk to pick up their passengers, and I tried to focus on anything other than the way my heart beat with him being so close. Three weeks I had managed to keep my distance, and somehow, it seemed like all that hard work to forget about what had happened between us had completely dissipated into nothing. The memory of his kiss and the gentle caress of his hands still lit me up on the inside, and I often found myself asking why.

  Why did he regret it?

  I turned to look at him, and he must have felt the same magnetic pull because his head lifted, and our gazes met right in the middle. A light breeze blew through the air, sending strands of my hair flying across my face, and Owen reached up to sweep them away, tucking them behind my ear. His hand lingered, his thumb brushing over the line of my jaw. My stomach knotted. I closed my eyes at the feel of him once again on my skin and swallowed everything I wanted to say but didn’t have the courage to put into words.

  It was a moment filled with silent “I’m sorrys” and unspoken “whys.”

  “Elle…” There was a pregnant pause as if he, too, were struggling to get his thoughts in their right order. A frustrated sigh floated from his chest and he continued. “Look, I know you don’t want me here, and I don’t blame you, but I need you to know something. I need you to know that I didn’t walk away from you three weeks ago because I regretted what we did. I have a lot of regrets in my life, but what happened between us…it will never be one of them.” He moved in a little closer, this time taking my face in both of his hands. Our eyes held. “I could never regret you.”

  “Then why?” My voice was a whisper, and it broke in places, my insecurities determined to be seen. “Why did you walk away? Why did you leave me there alone?”

  His lips parted and then closed. He was searching for an explanation, and if it was taking him this long to come out with it, I wasn’t convinced it would be entirely genuine. Why couldn’t he be honest with me?

  “There is something that you—”

  A loud series of honks blared in our ears, and the taxi they belonged to appeared out of nowhere. Stopping at the curb, the driver lowered the window and leaned forward against the steering wheel. “Are you Owen Caldwell?”

  Owen looked at me one more time before his hands dropped from my face. He ran them down his jean-clad thighs and pushed to his feet. “Yeah. That’s me.” He grabbed the handle of his suitcase, and right before he turned to walk toward the taxi, he cupped my chin, a sad smile tugging at his lips as he brushed his thumb along the corner of my mouth. “We’ll speak later, okay?”

  Nodding, I watched as he loaded his luggage into the trunk of the taxi and when it pulled away moments later, an ache carved its way through my chest.

  The idea of him spending this week alone suddenly didn’t sit right with me, but having him near was a risk. A huge risk. My family still didn’t know the truth about my job or my living situation, and I was sure with him around the lie would quickly come to bite me in the ass, but it was about more than protecting my lies. I was afraid of falling deeper into whatever it was I was feeling for him.

  Now more than ever, I was afraid of losing my heart to Owen Caldwell.

  Forty minutes passed and the familiar white pickup truck that my father refused to get rid of pulled to a stop in front of me. His voice floated out the open window.

  “Hey, stranger. Need a ride?”

  “I don’t know.” I crossed my arms over my chest and squinted at him, my lips twisting to the side. “Stranger danger is a real thing these days.”

  He lifted a plate stacked full of cheddar biscuits—a favorite of mine—and smiled. “I’ve got biscuits.
”

  The smell floated to my nose on a whirl of wind, and I pushed to my feet, grinning. “Well then, why didn’t you say so.” I grabbed my suitcase, and by the time I’d rolled it over to the curb, Dad was already out of the truck and by my side, placing it into the bed.

  His brows pinched together in a teasing scowl. “If biscuits are all it takes for you to hop in a truck with a stranger, then I think your mother and I need to reconsider our parenting methods.”

  I leaned against the aging rust bucket and watched as he strapped my bag in place so it wouldn’t fly around. “Oh no. You see, they can’t be any ordinary biscuits. They have to be Mom’s secret homemade recipe cheddar biscuits.”

  “Is that right?” Dad chuckled, pulling me into his arms in a firm hug. “I’ve missed you, kiddo. It’s good to finally have you home.”

  “It’s good to be home.” I held him tightly, not realizing how much I missed him. “Speaking of Mom. Where is she?” We both pulled apart and as I opened the passenger side door, he rounded the front of the truck and hopped in behind the steering wheel.

  “She’s at home helping your sister add the finishing touches to the bouquets. I’m forewarning you it looks like a flower garden exploded in our living room. Can’t sit down without a stem finding its way to your ass.”

  I shook my head, laughing. “You have no filter, do you?”

  Winking, he nudged my shoulder. “Meh. Life would be pretty damn boring if we all walked around with built-in filters, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah.” I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Yeah it would.”

  Not much had changed in the small town of Rock Bay since I’d last visited. The roads were still in dire need of repaving and Martha and Sue still sat on the old wooden bench at the corner of Feel Better Pharmacy, gossiping about everyone and everything. They were nearing their late eighties and harmless, and it would be a sad day for the entire community when the time came that they no longer made everyone’s business their own.