Forgot To Tell You Something: An Angsty, Later in Life Romance

Am I validated in storming out of Wicked Chuck’s last night?

Yes.

Do I regret stomping out of the bar like a juvenile?

Also, yes.

I strive to keep my emotions on lockdown. It’s a necessity in the medical field, and after the kicks that life has dealt me, I wouldn’t be standing if I let every little thing bother me. That being said, the situation with Owen and Charlotte isn’t a little thing. It’s gargantuan, with a life of its own.

What really bothers me? That, for all intents and purposes, Owen belongs to Charlotte. He belonged to her long before he engaged in a tryst with me. They had plans for the future—plans that he up and left.

I realize that Owen never envisaged me, and he certainly didn’t intend on knocking me up.

The selfish side of me wants to call Owen and demand that he put a ring on it, just like he promised. The magnanimous side knows that with Charlotte by his side, he can change the world of medicine.

I haven’t decided which way I’m leaning yet.

I slept hard last night, but I’m still tired. Glancing at my phone, I see a few missed calls from Beth. One of the new residents has a medical situation, but she’s too terrified to go to the doctor.

I pull on a flowing sundress, tie my hair back, and jump into my jalopy. Screw makeup, the women at the shelter do not care if I’m wearing mascara.

“Beth,” I call out, walking from room to room as I search for the director. “Where are you?”

“In here, Lu.”

I enter the kitchen and stop short. Owen sits at the table with the new resident, giving her an examination. Once again, I’m caught by how good he is at his work. He’s a natural healer, and the women seem to trust him. That, in itself, is a rarity.

But it is also painful to see him after our row last night, more so in a place I assumed he would never return.

“Dr. Stevens was kind enough to come down and speak with Sophie.” Beth stands, giving me a quick hug and motioning to the coffeepot. “Cup of coffee, love?”

I shake my head, strolling to the front porch. I’m weighing my options. Should I leave or stay? The decision is taken out of my hands when the screen door slams and Owen settles into a chair next to me.

“Hey.” His tone is guarded, noticeable from just that single word.

“Thank you for helping them.”

“I told them whenever they needed something to call me. Beth said she couldn’t reach you. Are you okay?”

I nod, maintaining my gaze on the street. “I didn’t hear the phone. I was exhausted.”

“You needed to rest. I’m happy to help the women here.”

“I appreciate that, but it’s not your problem to handle. I should have turned my ringer on.” I stare at my hands, idly pulling at my skirt. “I was so afraid it would go off during your speech last night.”

“The one you didn’t stay for?” Owen grunts, his gaze on the ceiling. “My only problem is being away from the woman I love.”

I stand up, my heart shredding at his words. “I can’t do this.”

“Tally—”

There they are again. Damn teardrops. “I can maintain a professional distance at work, but this”—I gesture between the two of us—“is really hard for me.”

“You think it isn’t hard for me? I’m in love for the first time in my life, but the woman I adore won’t let me near her. All because she’s convinced that I want the woman I moved 3,100 miles away from!” Owen scrubs his face with his hand, his foot tapping erratically on the porch. “I get that this is hard, Tally. It sucks, and it’s stupid, but I keep hoping one day you’ll realize who I want.”

I wipe my hand over my brow, feeling woozy. Yet another fun-filled symptom of pregnancy.

“Easy there. Are you okay?” Owen grabs my arm and pulls me to him, not waiting for verification. “You’re pale, Tally.”

“I’m always pale, Owen.”

He tips my chin up, brushing my hair back from my face. His touch soothes me, and I lean into it. He’s not mine any longer, but for the moment, I can pretend. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I had breakfast about an hour ago.”

“Maybe you need something else. Why don’t we go grab some lunch?”

“Have you seen how much I eat? I’m hardly underfed.”

“You do have an impressive appetite lately. Almost like you’re eating for two.” He quirks his brow at me while I struggle to maintain a neutral expression. “But that couldn’t be the case because I’ve asked you, and you’ve denied it, time and again.” His hand slides down over my stomach—my ever so slightly protruded stomach—and stops there. “I always said you were a terrible liar, Tally.”

I hear my dad’s voice in my head, beckoning me to come clean. Sink or swim, Wildflower.  

“Lu—oh, I didn’t know you were still here, Dr. Stevens. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Beth stands at the screen door, a knowing smile on her face.

I’d jump out of Owen’s embrace, but the big, mean, handsome doctor isn’t letting me. To be fair, it’s also my favorite place in the world, and I’ve no desire for the moment to end.

“You’re fine, Beth. Dr. Stevens was just leaving. I’ll be right in.”

“Take your time, dear.” A low chuckle escapes Beth’s lips as she steps back into the house. Oh boy, I’ll have some explaining to do.

“I’ve got to go. Beth needs me.”

Our gazes hold for a few beats more, before Owen presses a kiss to my forehead. “So beautiful, and so damn stubborn.” He pulls back, nodding in the direction of the door. “Go ahead, don’t want to keep Beth waiting. Promise me you’ll eat something soon.”

“Yes, Dr. Stevens.” I nod, offering a wave as I walk inside, tracking Beth down in her office. “You needed to see me?”

“You didn’t need to rush back in. I certainly wouldn’t have rushed out of that man’s arms.”

I chew my lower lip, focusing my gaze on the waste bin. “He had to leave.”

“It was so nice of Dr. Stevens to stop by. The women here trust him, and that’s a godsend.”

“He’s a wonderful doctor, with a fantastic bedside manner.”

“He’s a wonderful man, Tallulah.”

I shrug, hoping for a change in the conversation. “I suppose.”

She reaches across the desk, squeezing my arm. “You know he’s a wonderful man. I had a little chat with Owen when he arrived.”

I groan, sinking my head into my hands. “Beth, tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. I needed to know why he broke my dear friend’s heart. But the story I heard was different from your take.”

Wonderful. Now he’s spinning another tale. What a tangled web this man weaves.

“His ex-fiancée followed him across the country in hopes of reconciliation. There are only so many ways to spin that story, Beth.”

“He doesn’t want her back.”

“That’s not what she says,” I grumble as I fiddle with my hands. I’m a nervous wreck today.

“It’s what Owen says. He loves you. You love him. And you’re having a baby together.”

My head shoots up, my eyes wide as saucers. “How did you know?”

“I’m a mother, and a mother always knows. Owen knows too, dear.”

“He said that?”

Beth shakes her head, shooting me a soft smile. “He didn’t have to, but he intimated the fact.”

My heart sinks to my stomach, both flipping and flopping at the realization that the jig is up. “Ugh. I know that Owen knows, but I haven’t been able to tell him. I have this ray of hope that exists until then. After he hears about the baby, it’s just me and a lifetime of single motherhood.”

“Or a lifetime with the man of your dreams. Why are you so certain he doesn’t want this child?”

I throw my hands up. There are a million reasons. Where do I begin? “We barely know each other—”

“You knew each other well enough to have unprotected sex,” Beth retorts, her brows raised.

I hate my friend sometimes.

“I’m aware of that fact, Beth,” I grumble. “His ex-fiancée wants to reconcile, and she’s beautiful and important. I have a healthy self-esteem, but it’s like competing against the Queen of England when she wasn’t ninety.”

Beth chuckles, staying my hands that continue to fiddle with anything in their way. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Tears back up in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. The truth—the hard truth—is something I don’t want to admit. “I know he’ll do the right thing, Beth. That’s what Owen does. But how am I supposed to have this man in my life forever, knowing he’ll never be mine?”

Beth passes me a tissue, stroking my hair. She really is such a mom. “My dear girl, sometimes you have to give people the opportunity to screw up. Owen just might surprise you.”

“Or he might break my heart.”

“Then,” she states, pushing herself to a standing position, “you’ll be on even ground. You’ve already broken his heart by leaving.”