Page 63 of Passion Restored

Only she knew it was too late.

She already loved him.

And now she had to get some space so she wouldn’t break him.

“I don’t know yet, but I need to know my options.”

“I’m your option, Lizzie. You, me, and the baby. You can’t just leave because you’re scared.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” she yelled and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Ever since I met you, everything I’ve built feels like it’s falling apart around me. I thought I was so strong, so independent, but instead, I keep freaking out and crying and saying the wrong things. I don’t like this person, Owen. I don’t like who I’m becoming.”

“It’s because you’re fighting it. If you’d just let yourself fall, you wouldn’t hate yourself.” His eyes pleaded with her, but all she could think of was him hating her for what she could do if she weren’t careful.

She didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to not love him.

But she was so scared.

“I don’t know how to fall,” she whispered. “And I need to make sure I don’t hurt our baby because I’m making the wrong choices. Can’t you just give me time to process all of this?”

Owen put his hands on his hips, his eyes dark and full of pain as he studied her face. She wanted to reach out to him, but she was afraid she would do something stupid. She’d known her whole life that if she fell for a man and let him change her, she’d become the one thing she hated. And to be with Owen, she’d have to push through that. She’d thought she’d started to, but having her father shoved back in her face only made it that much harder.

“I love you, Lizzie. With everything I have. I’ll give you time to think, but I’m not going anywhere. You know what I feel, what I want. But I can’t force you to love me. I can’t force you to stay.”

She reached out for him, but let her hand fall.

She couldn’t touch him and think; couldn’t touch him and remember why she was fighting this.

So she turned on her heel and left, knowing she was probably making the worst decision of her life. This was for Owen. And she knew that for the lie it was. But if she left now, she could think and could make sure she didn’t hurt him.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she ran to her car, ignoring the shouts from Graham and Murphy as they called out to her. She couldn’t face them. Not with what she’d just done.

Instead, she drove home, her attention on the road and nothing else. She couldn’t formulate thoughts beyond the pounding in her head that screamed at her to turn back. By the time she pulled into her driveway and stumbled through her front door, she knew she’d made a horrible mistake.

She was not her mother.

She was not her father.

So they’d fucked each other over as well as her, but she was not them. She didn’t want the damn job in Cheyenne and knew there was that business card on her dresser calling out to her. She would have to change the way she’d done her job for years to make it happen, but she could. Just as she’d begun to change the way she thought about life in general. She shouldn't have left Owen. Hell, she was going fucking crazy. Of course, he didn't know, but she had just been looking for an excuse to mess everything up as always. She'd done the one thing she'd promise not to do: hurt him.

She had to find him. Had to go back.

Liz pressed her hand over her belly and took a deep breath. She had to do what she’d sworn she would never do and admit to falling completely and madly in love with Owen Gallagher, taking the risk of a lifetime along the way.

Decision made, she let out a breath. She’d been scared and had acted rashly, something she’d never done, at least not until she was knocked off her feet the first time she met Owen. He’d been right—if she hadn’t fought as hard as she was, she wouldn’t have reacted the way she had so many times.

Maybe once she admitted to him that she loved him, that she wanted him, that she trusted him, she wouldn’t continue down the path of turning into a person she hardly recognized.

At least she hoped.

As she turned to pick up the keys that had fallen to the floor without her noticing, the doorbell rang. She froze. Before she could look through the peephole to see who it was, a deep voice on the other side of the door told her.

“Open the damn door, Lizzie. We’re not done.”

No, they weren’t. Not by a long shot.

She took a deep breath and stepped into her fate as she opened the door.

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