Thank God!
My silence had probably saved me from an even-greater humiliation back then, which had reinforced my belief that it was always better not to share any secrets at all.
“I want to know what upset you, Layla. I want to understand, because you were never the type to hold a grudge, even if I did do or say something I regretted,” Owen said in the same solemn voice he’d had since high school.
I waited, almost expecting him to try to bring a little levity to the conversation with some kind of outrageous or humorous statement, just like he had when we were teenagers.
But he didn’t.
He was deadly serious.
And I almost found myself mourning that lack of humor.
“I’m not holding a grudge,” I said defensively, even though I knew I was still hurting over a stupid event from high school. “It was a decade ago, Owen. It just doesn’t matter to me anymore. I see no reason to rehash the past.”
My life had turned out well, and I felt like everything was exactly as it should be.
I liked my job.
I cared about my patients.
And if I spent time volunteering at the animal shelter giving a lot more love to four-legged creatures than I ever had to a human male, it was nobody’s business.
I was happy exactly where I was, and I didn’t wish my life was different.
The realization that I actually liked my life had helped me get over most of my resentment toward Owen.
Well, almost . . .
Maybe I didn’t regret what had happened, but the whole resentment thing was hard to conquer.
It was some of Owen’s old stubbornness as he insisted, “I’d still like to take you out for something to eat to try to change your mind about telling me what happened. We’re going to see each other tomorrow outside of work at my place, anyway, so why not start tonight?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow,” I informed him. “I promised Andie I’d help set up for her reception.”
His eyes lit up. “You’re coming early for the setup?”
I nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? She’s my friend, too.”
Andie had rounded out our close friendship trio in high school, and I’d stayed in touch with her even after she’d left Citrus Beach for college.
When Andie had returned to California a decade later, she’d fallen madly in love with Owen’s older brother Noah.
I’d asked myself a million times why the man of Andie’s dreams had needed to be so closely related to Owen, but she was so happy that it really didn’t matter anymore. I could tolerate almost anything to see her as happy as she was with her husband.
Noah and Andie had eloped to wine country to get married, and now they were having a huge reception to placate the entire family, who hadn’t been able to attend their wedding.
Unfortunately, I’d recently discovered that the large party was taking place at Owen’s new waterfront home, a fact I hadn’t been aware of before I’d offered to help Andie set up for the reception. I hadn’t let that information sway me into backing out of the setup, though. The reception was all about Andie and Noah, and I refused to allow my personal feelings about Owen to spoil my happiness for them.
“I definitely don’t mind that you’re coming to my place early, Layla,” Owen said gruffly. “You, me, and Andie were pretty close at one time. I’ve missed that.”
I snorted. “Andie and I always stayed close friends.”
He shrugged. “Andie and I have always been close, too, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you. I told you things I never even told her.”
“And she told you things she never told me,” I said, unable to keep the sadness out of my voice.
I’d only found out recently that Andie had been diagnosed with a very aggressive type of cancer while she was studying journalism in Boston. She had, in fact, nearly lost her life while she was struggling through chemo and other types of painful treatment.
Yes, she was well now, and only had one more checkup in Boston before she never had to go back to be checked for her cancer again. Still, it bothered me that she’d never told me the truth.
Luckily, Owen had been there for her, since he’d been attending the same college for premed. Andie didn’t have any real family she could count on, so I was grateful that he’d been there with her.
Owen grimaced. “If I hadn’t been in Boston, I’m not sure Andie would have told me what was going on, either. You know how she is, Layla. She never wants to drag anyone down, so she isn’t big on sharing the bad stuff.”
“She wouldn’t have dragged me down,” I replied adamantly. “She’s my friend. Maybe I could have helped her.”
Reasonably, I probably wouldn’t have been helpful to Andie, since my life had been in turmoil back then. I’d completely forgiven her for not telling me, since I’d kept a lot of things from her, too.
“She tried to kick me out of her life more than once,” Owen shared. “I was just too stubborn to listen to her.”
I bit back a smile, because I could see Andie doing something like that. She’d always been a lot bolder than I was about expressing her emotions. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you were there for her,” I explained. “I just wish she would have told me, too.”
The knowledge that I was straying away from clinic business for the first time with Owen didn’t escape me, but I really was grateful that he’d taken care of Andie when she’d needed him in Boston. He deserved a couple of kinder words for that.
“There were times I wanted to call you and tell you,” he confided. “But I knew that Andie didn’t want anyone else to know, so I had to respect that.”
I nodded. I actually admired the fact that he’d kept Andie’s confidence. “I’m glad she’s well now.”
“Me too,” he said grimly. “There were way too many times that I wasn’t sure she’d make it.”
I softened just a little as I still heard a bit of fear in his tone.
Sometimes, I’d actually wondered if something more than friendship had developed between Andie and Owen during the years they were together in Boston. Andie had never talked about any guy except for Owen. Now I understood why he was the only person she’d mentioned, since she’d been ill at the time, and Owen had been the only person who had been by her side in the hospital.
Watching Andie with Noah, and seeing firsthand how much she adored her new husband, put any question about Andie and Owen being an item to rest. But I could tell from the concern in Owen’s voice how much he cared about Andie, even if it wasn’t and never had been a romantic relationship.
“It must have been difficult for you,” I murmured. “Andie said you were doing a heavy load in college to get through all the premed stuff in two years, and that you were holding down a job, too. I can’t imagine dealing with the stress of Andie being sick on top of all that.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” he scoffed. “I just did what any other friend would do.”
No, not everyone would have found a way to juggle that many balls in the air, but Owen could be just as stubborn as Andie.
I stood, afraid I was getting way more personal with Owen than I wanted to be. “I better go. Thanks for looking over those cases, Dr. Sinclair.”