Page 62 of Taking The Virgin

Chapter22

Owen’s parentsfinally do agree to let a team of junk removal specialists into their home along with a therapist who will ease them into the process.

I check into a nearby hotel and don’t eat much during the next couple of days while the de-cluttering and cleaning happens. All the work helps me to focus and forget aboutOwen.

A little.

I keep telling myself that he only needs some space, some time to cool off from what must seem like my betrayal ofhim.

But then, every time I go to my hotel for some quick shuteye, I fall into an exhausted sleep with my phone in hand, waiting for him to contactme.

Which he doesn’t.

Even so, I can’t escape thoughts of him, because there are times when his parents remind me so much of him—the stubbornness and the darkness that they’ve all had to live with. During the cleaning process, they tell me about their other children, who are just as weary of them as Owen is, and they admit that the time had finally come to deal with what ailsthem.

But they also break my heart all over again by reminding me how they saw Owen looking at me on the porch.

He’s never looked at anyone like that. And for him to leave you behind withus…

But their words don’t do me much good, because Owen hasn’t contactedme.

Even so, I focus on being patient with the situation, working with the therapist to encourage them as much as possible, and in the end, we’re able to get their home cleaned and saved from being condemned by thecity.

This is a small miracle that should overjoy me, but I still feel a pit of emptiness insideme.

I wonder if I’ve just cost my own siblings their safety by sticking out my neck for someone else’s family.

Just looking at Mr. and Mrs. Gregory hurts, because I also see Owen’s dark eyes in his mom’s. I see where Owen got his size in his dad’s physique, which is now so worn down because of the burdens that have been piled on him for years.

When the day comes for me to leave them, I pray that they’ll keep the house clean. Social services will try to provide them with support, but they will need to really want to stay healthy for any of this to truly work longterm.

While we stand on the porch, my ride-share car waits for me. Linda and Daniel—they’re no longer “Mr. and Mrs. Gregory” after what we’ve been through—hug me. Since they’ve taken pains to clean themselves and their clothing, I embrace them back as if they’re my own parents.

We’re all teary eyed as we pull back and look at one another.

Mrs. Gregory’s smile is still missing a tooth, but it’s a lovely smile anyway. “We don’t know how to thankyou.”

I remember when I said that to Owen whenever he came to my rescue, and a sob lodges in my chest.

“You know what to do from this point on,” I say. “And I know you won’t let your kidsdown.”

“And we won’t let you down,” Mr. Gregory says, leaning on hiscane.

His wife keeps holding my hand. “Will you stay in touch?”

My heart twists. “Of course I will.” Even if they’ll remind me ofOwen.

God, Owen…

I brace myself from the shredding emotions. I have to—I’m my own rock now because he isn’t here anymore.

Is he somewhere having more nightmares? Does it feel to him as if I’ve become a part of a bad dream—just one more piece of clutter that ruined hislife?

I feel queasy as I say goodbye to Linda and Daniel. After I get into the car and the driver pulls onto the street, I watch them through the back window, tears streaming down my face. Their arms are around each other, and I hope they’re giving each other enough strength to get through the days ahead.

Everything goes by in a blur as I try not to think about Owen. I pack up my things at my hotel, then catch a flighthome.

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