Page 113 of Love You Madly

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?”

I swallow, trying to shake off the icy grip of the past that’s creeping over me. “It’s Adam,” I mutter, nodding toward him, my voice barely above a whisper. Just saying his name feels like reopening a wound I thought I’d finally healed. “He’s by the food trucks. The one in the black shirt standing next to the brunette with glasses.”

Owen’s dark eyes flick in the direction of the food trucks, his jaw tightening. There’s a pause, and I can feel Owen turnhis eyes back to me, protective and steady. He doesn’t say anything more, just gives a slight nod, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t want to talk about Adam right now. I don’t want him to have any more space in my mind than he already does.

But of course, the universe has other plans.

As if on cue, Adam’s eyes lock onto mine from across the fairgrounds. I see his expression shift–his jaw clenches, and the lighthearted conversation he was having with Katie and the people around him vanishes in an instant. My pulse quickens and I can feel the knots forming in my stomach. His gaze moves to Owen’s hand on my back, and the calculating cold look I know all too well takes over his face. The look has always made me feel small.

Adam stalks toward us, dragging Katie along without a second thought. She has a confused expression on her face as he jerks her away from whatever conversation she’d been having. Owen squeezes my hand three times as he takes a small step forward, putting himself between Adam and me, tense and prepared.

“I’ve got you, dollface,” Owen says, his voice low and calm, but there’s an edge to it now.

Adam’s stride is fast and purposeful–as if he’s on a mission to destroy my night. “Callie!” Adam shouts, his voice clipped as he steps away from Katie. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where is Sara? You’re supposed to be with her.” Now that he’s closer, I realize that he’s wearing a security shirt which means he was hired to help at the event.Fucking perfect.Adam knows Halestorm is one of my favorite bands. I can’t help but think he took the gig just to spite me.

Before I can respond, Owen takes a step forward, his presence commanding but calm. “You want to try that again, bud?” Owen asks, his voice steady and controlled, but there’s nomistaking the warning behind his words. It’s then I notice that we’ve gained an audience. God damn it, if we get kicked out of here, I’m going to be devastated. For so many reasons.

Adam’s gaze flicks from Owen back to me, his nostrils flaring. He’s taller, broader than Owen. But there’s something in Owen’s stance–solid and unyielding–that gives Adam pause. There’s no intimidation in Owen’s expression, just a quiet, protective resolve that makes it clear he won’t back down.

“She’s with Taylor,” I finally manage to say, my voice steady despite the twisted anxiety making my chest feel tight. “I’m allowed to have a night out too, Adam.”

Adam’s eyes narrow, a sneer creeping across his face as he sizes up Owen. “This your new thing, Callie? Letting someone else handle your responsibilities?” he jabs.

Owen’s voice cuts in again, cool and firm. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation.”

The tension is thick, and the air around us is heavy. Adam glares at Owen, his hands balling into fists at his sides, but Owen doesn’t flinch. He stands unwavering, and I can feel the weight of his stance like a shield between me and everything Adam is trying to stir up.

Adam’s eyes glance between Owen and me, and I can already feel the tension rising. Before things escalate further, Owen takes another small step forward, his posture relaxing but still protective. He extends his hand, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he makes the gesture. His jaw is clenched, and I can tell he’s working to stay calm, yet there’s a glimpse of something more sinister in his gaze—a possessiveness I definitely don’t mind.

I never thought I could be more attracted to this man, but his protective nature is definitely intensifying my connection to him.

“Let’s try this again,” Owen says, his voice steady but firm, the unspoken edge of authority clear. “I’m Owen. Nice to meet you,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Adam looks at Owen’s hand for a beat too long, his expression hardening as if he’s deciding whether to take the olive branch or twist it. He finally accepts the handshake, but there’s nothing friendly about it. His eyes narrow as they land on the sunglasses Owen hasn’t removed, despite the sun dipping below the horizon.

“A little late for shades, don’t you think?” Adam’s tone is pointed, a subtle challenge wrapped in casual words.

Owen doesn’t flinch. “I wear my sunglasses at night,” he shrugs, and the nod to the Corey Hart song has me fighting back a laugh. “Bright lights,” he quips, his voice calm but tinged with a toughness, like steel encased in velvet. Owen’s words carry no apology or respect for the man who is still technically my husband; instead, there’s a quiet confidence that I have grown to admire immensely.

“Look,” he continues, his voice steady but firm, “we don’t have to make this difficult. Maybe we can find a way to get along. And maybe you can learn to check your tone while we’re at it.”

Adam’s eyes flick toward me before slowly moving back to Owen. The sneer on his face grows. “Right,” Adam says, “I’m sure we have so much in common.” His gaze shifts toward me again, making the insinuation all too clear.

The implication hits like a slap, sending a rush of anger and disbelief surging through me. How dare he? The sheer arrogance of his words makes my blood boil. Adam’s always known how to cut deep, to twist the knife in ways that make me question myself, but not tonight. Tonight, I won’t let him have that power over me. Not with Owen here. Not anymore.

Heat rises in my chest as memories of all the times Adam made me feel small rush to the surface. My anger is right there, ready to spill over, but Owen’s presence beside me pulls me back. He doesn’t even blink at Adam’s dig, doesn’t let it get to him. Instead, he stays calm, so composed that I almost wonder how he’s keeping it together. But I can feel the tension radiating off him, like he’s a spring wound tight, ready to snap.

Owen draws in a sharp breath, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low and deliberate, each word clipped. “You treated her like garbage. I treat her like the goddess she is. We are not the same.”

And now I’m officially a puddle for this man. No one has ever shown up for me like this.

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, everything feels suspended. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat louder than the last. Adam’s face twists as he processes the insult, his jaw working furiously as if he’s trying to swallow the bitter pill Owen just handed him. It’s like he can’t quite believe someone would stand up to him like this—especially not in front of me.

I glance at Owen, feeling the deep sense of gratitude well up inside me. He’s not just defending me; he’s dismantling every lie Adam has ever told me about myself. Every cruel word, every time he made me feel like I wasn’t enough–Owen’s obliterating it all with a single sentence.

But Adam’s silence only lasts for a heartbeat. I can see the fury building in him, the way his nostrils flare and his fists tighten at his sides. He’s calculating his next move, gearing up for another hit.

Before Adam can get a word out, I step forward, my patience hanging by a thread. My voice comes out sharper than I meant. “Katie, may the odds be ever in your favor.” Thewords slip out with more bite than I expected, but I don’t regret them. She has no idea what she’s getting into.

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