Page 13 of Owen's Heart

“I’m glad you gave me the chance to take you out tonight,” I say honestly.

“If I hadn’t, you would have never left me alone about it.”

“At least you know me well.”

She shoots me a stern, teacher-glaring-at-an- unruly-student glare. “After tonight, I will have given you the date you want, so you can’t keep pressuring me into more dates,” she admonishes.

Oh, trust me, sweetheart. It won’t be pressure.

“What if you want to go out with me more after tonight? Of your own will, not because I want you to,” I ask.

Her reply is a light chuckle accompanying, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Owen. First, we have to get through tonight.”

“That’s fair, but you know I’ve always been an overachiever,” I wisecrack.

When she rolls her eyes playfully and laughs, I feel good about the night being off to a good start. At least, she’s not shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

Thirty minutes later, our food has been ordered and served. I’m enjoying a T-bone steak, and Rania picks over a Caesar salad.

I point my fork at her plate. “Is there something wrong with your food? I can order you something else if you don’t want a salad,” I tell her, then slide my plate her way. “Or you can just have my steak, and I’ll eat your salad.”

She drops her fork on her plate with a clinking sound and pushes my plate back to me. Meeting my gaze, she says, “No, the food is fine.”

“Then, what’s bothering you?”

I still myself for whatever she is about to say. I can tell from the look on her face that it’s about to be a doozy.

Her brown eyes burrow into my green ones. “Why did you cheat?” she asks as more of an accusation than a question. “You said you would never make me regret the trust I had in you, so why did you do it?”

Now, it was my turn to drop my fork and sit back in my chair. I look at her as sincerely as I can. Staring into the windows of her soul, I think of what I can say to make her believe me this time when I tell her the truth.

“I never cheated on you. I tried to tell you that back in college, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I know what you saw in the pictures, and I know what Jasmine told you, but it never happened the way they say it did.”

“And just how did it happen, Owen!” she grates out through pursed lips.

I continue to explain my side of the story. “Chantel and Jasmine planned it out. Jasmine had her camera ready for Chantel to take advantage of my slow reflex due to the alcohol we were drinking at the party. When Chantel kissed me, I pushed her off of me, but Jasmine had already caught on camera that split second where Chantel’s lips met mine. This is something they planned to break us up, and it worked.”

“I wish I could believe that, but you looked so into her in that picture that it’s hard to believe that you didn’t want to kiss Chantel.”

“I wish you would believe me, too. We never had a problem believing each other before this happened,” I remind her.

“That’s because we never had an issue like this. You always made me feel like you wouldn’t share something as intimate as a kiss with another woman, but you did. Pictures don’t lie, Owen. You had your eyes closed and everything.” Her voice cracked when she adds, “Like that kiss with her was the best you ever had.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. You are the best I ever had.”

“Then explain why you kissed her like that?”

“I was laying back on the couch resting my eyes. The next thing I knew, she was on top of me, kissing me.”

“On top of you, kissing you,” she mimics my excuse.

“That’s what happened, Rania, so apparently pictures can distort the truth because I didn’t want Chantel to kiss me,” I retort.

Rania glances down at the table. “Uh-huh.”

“What does your heart tell you happened, Rania? Does your heart call me a liar, or does it tell you to believe me?” I ask.

Her gaze meets and locks onto mine. “When I look into your eyes as you explain to me what happened, my heart tells me to believe you.”

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