I frowned because it was true. If I had moved on, it wouldn't bother me. So, no, I wasn't over it. But I needed to be because I couldn't keep living like this.
I looked back at my art and frowned. "What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not blind," I said, keeping my eyes on the piece in front of me. I wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but I needed to know. And I couldn't be looking at him whenever he said it.
"You brought me up here for a reason, and you've never told me what it was besides that you needed to. So…why?"
I knew something was up. I could see every time Owen got up to take a call, and I saw he printed something out the other day that looked like bank statements.
Deep down, I knew something had happened, but I didn't know what. And I knew he did.
"So…?"
I heard him softly sigh. "You're folks sold your hand in marriage to Logan."
I suspected it. But the blow still hurt, and I swallowed, feeling tears bloom.
"Looks like your father's business went under, and all the other assets your folks had got frozen. So, they couldn't use anything and were pretty much broke. Until a large sum was put in."
I looked from the art piece to the wall, staring at the blank space.
I was about to ask how that could be, but I knew. It was all my mother’s appointments. Every time we seemed to get lucky, something new showed up. They had been draining accounts for longer than a few years. They had been doing it since the start.
"Your folks made a deal with Logan, which I'm guessing was the highest bid."
I suddenly felt angry and looked at him. I could fear the tears burning. After everything I’d done, they still were going to use me? They were going to sell my hand off like I wasn’t important? "I am not to be bought."
Owen's face softened. "Ashley, out of everyone in the world, I am the last person who thinks you are."
"Then why did you bring me here?" I snapped. "Are you planning to offer up something more to my folks?"
"No," he said, his voice still soft.
"Then what?" I asked, throwing my arms out. "Why involve yourself in this?"
Owen walked over to the kitchen and around the counter. "I don't know. Maybe I don't love the idea of a man getting off while suffocating a woman?" He opened the fridge, grabbed a soda, and turned back to me.
He was trying to make a joke, and any other time, I might have chuckled. But I was angry—angry at the world, angry at my folks, and angry at him.
I crossed my arms. "No, you just get off, making sure your girlfriend watches as another woman rides you."
Chapter 8 - Owen
I don't know what to say. There really isn't anything I could say besides the truth that will make her forgive me. But I can't.
I lean onto the counter, dropping my gaze to the granite. We never spoke about the incident, and sometimes, I wish we had. If I was being honest, I wished I had never done it. I wished I had been as confident about our relationship as she'd been.
"Nothing to say to that?" she asked, and I could hear her moving into the kitchen.
I wanted to tell her that wasn't it. But I couldn't. I didn't even have the energy to argue with her. That's all we ever did now.
Before, we never fought. We just never saw the need. We sat down and discussed things like adults. Ashley and I trusted each other with everything and never lied to each other.
Suddenly, it was like we didn't know how to talk to each other anymore. I knew that was because there was no trust. Ashley never knew if I was lying or telling the truth. She would never trust me like she had before.
"Ashley, I don't want to fight."