Page 63 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)
OWEN
There was a knock at my door just after ten.
Lucy was here.
I’d left her at Theo’s house two hours ago, giving her space to talk things through with her parents. In the time since, I’d done nothing but pace my apartment, nursing a mug of chamomile tea I’d reheated twice and barely touched.
When I’d driven home, it was with the hope that she’d come back with good news, a glimmer of hope in the mess we’d found ourselves in.
But the second I opened the door, I knew better.
Because instead of looking like the ray of sunshine she’d been in my class all semester, she stood there, eyes rimmed in red, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle like she was holding herself together by sheer will.
She looked like she’d been through a war…and lost.
And the moment I looked in her sad and swollen eyes, I knew what was coming.
She was here to end things .
My stomach turned, a slow, hollow ache curling through me like I’d just been punched in the gut.
“Hey,” I said, gripping the edge of the doorframe, wishing I could freeze time right here, hold her on the threshold, and stop everything from falling apart.
“Hey,” she whispered, not quite meeting my gaze. “Can I come in for a second?”
“Sure.” I stepped aside, nodding, even as dread thickened in my throat. She walked in slowly, like every step hurt, and I shut the door behind her.
“So…” She stood in the middle of the room, still and silent, like she was waiting for her courage to catch up to her. “I talked to my dad after you left.”
“You did?” I swallowed. “Was it a long talk?”
“Not really,” she said, looking down at the floor. “I, uh, I’ve actually been sitting in your parking lot for over an hour.”
“Oh…”
That…wasn’t a good sign.
“Yeah…” She sighed, her fingers knotting together in front of her. “And well, I guess the good news is that my dad said I could stay in your class. And that he wouldn’t go to Dean Harris…or try to get you fired.”
“That’s good,” I said, a small hit of relief blooming in my chest.
Could we just stop this conversation there? Pretend there wasn’t anything else? No real reason for her to look as sad as she did?
But then she looked up at me, her beautiful blue eyes breaking my heart as she said, “There’s just one little thing he asks in return.”
“There is?” I gulped.
She nodded. “He says he won’t do anything to interrupt your career as long as I…promise to end things. With you. ”
And there it was.
The words I’d seen coming the second I opened the door. The ones I’d hoped I was wrong about.
“Oh.”
It was all I could manage.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes welling fast. And seeing the same heartbreak I was feeling reflected in this fierce, vulnerable girl I’d fallen for wrecked me.
“I didn’t want it to be like this,” she said. “But I…I couldn’t let him take your career from you. You’ve worked too hard, Owen. You belong here. Your students?—”
“You matter, too,” I cut in, the words rasping out harder than I meant. “This wasn’t just…” I broke off, trying to swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I thought this was something real. Something rare. The thing I’d been hoping to find and never could.”
“It was.” Her voice cracked. “It is. But we have to think about your future. And if that means stepping back…then I’ll do it.”
Her words hit me like a blade to the chest.
A sharp, twisting pain that stole the air from my lungs.
Like my heart was being ripped apart from the inside—slow and merciless.
I couldn’t breathe through it.
Couldn’t look at her without wanting to fall to my knees and beg her not to go.
But I didn’t. I just stood there.
Because how could I ask her to stay when she was already tearing herself apart to protect me?
She glanced up, and our eyes locked. And in that look was everything.
Everything we didn’t have the words for.
Everything we were about to lose .
And suddenly, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I reached for her, pulling her into my arms like I could memorize the feel of her before she slipped away.
And then she was holding me, too. Desperate. Clinging.
Her face buried in my chest. My hands cradling the back of her head.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered into her hair, the words muffled and broken.
“I don’t want to go,” she breathed back, her fingers fisting the fabric of my shirt.
“Then don’t,” I pleaded, even though we both knew that wasn’t an option anymore.
She shook her head against my chest, her shoulders trembling. “We don’t have another choice.”
And she was right.
So, for another long moment, neither of us moved. We just stood there, grief pressed between us, holding each other like we could freeze time, like maybe if we stayed like this long enough, the rest of the world would forget how to pull us apart.
But the seconds still ticked by, regardless. And goodbye didn’t stop coming.
“Tell your dad…thanks,” I said eventually, the words bitter on my tongue. “For sparing me my job, I guess. Even if it cost me everything else.”
“I will.”
She took a step toward the door.
At the threshold, she paused and turned back, eyes shimmering. “I guess I’ll see you in class, Professor Park.”
And just like that, I was no longer “Owen” to her. Not even “Theo’s friend.”
Just a guy standing at the front of her classroom three times a week .
I swallowed hard and managed a single nod. “See you in class.”
What else was I supposed to say?
She lingered there, her hand hovering near the doorknob, like maybe she wasn’t ready to end this either. Then, in a swift, almost desperate motion, she stepped closer and pressed a trembling kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice splintering. “For showing me what it’s like to be loved by someone safe. Even if it was only for a little while.”
My throat burned as I tried to hold myself together.
And then she slipped out the door, quiet as a heartbeat, the soft click of the latch feeling final in a way I wasn’t ready for.
I stood there frozen, my stomach twisting like something vital had been ripped out of me.
Because the truth was, everything I wanted had just walked away.
And just like that night ten years ago, when I lost my dad and Callie...I couldn’t follow.