Page 73 of Since Always

"Owen, I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere private?"

He pauses. "Where?"

"Follow me."

I lead him around behind the bank of elevators to an alcove, hidden to the rest of the rooftop by the bar. "Are we good here?"

"I think so, yeah. Everyone here is probably too drunk to even clock it anyway. What's going on?" he asks, sitting down next to me on the edge of a concrete planter. I turn to face him.

"Don't freak out when I say this," I start.

"Well, saying that has surely never worked for anyone. What is it?"

"My mom knows. She figured it out."

“I fucking knew it. She figured...How?" I can see the panic setting in his eyes.

"She's my mom. And it doesn't matter. I just wanted you to know that she knows."

"Fuck," he says. "Fuck. We are so stupid and careless. I don't know how we thought we could hide it. We were only together for a few days and both your mom and Stephanie figured it out."

"Stephanie knows? Has she told Chris?"

"She saw us. In Aspen. And no, she's not telling him. Fuck," he repeats as he drops his head into his hands.

"I know. I'm sorry. But it's okay," I say.

"Does she hate me?" His voice sounds broken, as though the thought is more than he can bear.

"No." He gives me a look as though he doesn't believe me. "She doesn't hate you, I promise. She's processing. But she told me I had to live my life and make my own choices, and they couldn't be about her or Chris."

"She said that?"

"Yes. And she's right. I am a grown woman, and I am tired of feeling like my life is being controlled by other people; you included. You decided we couldn't be together without any discussion with me, and that's not fair. I know the reasons this would be hard. And I know asking you to look past them is selfish, because you're the one with so much to lose. But I still want you to choose to be with me. I think that what we have is worth it. I think I could be enough for you, even if everything else went to shit. But, more than that, I don't think it will go to shit. I believe we will weather the storm. Together."

"Cassidy..."

"I don't want to beg you to be with me. I won't do that. This is not begging. And if you say no tonight, I promise I will leave here and not mention this—mention us—ever again. But I never got to make my case, so I need to do that.

I want you to pick me, Owen. To pick us. We can fight for the rest of it together. I won't waiver. I will be right there by your side, because I love you. I have loved you my entire life." My voice is shaky, but my resolve is strong. I know the life I want. I want the one with him. Whatever that is, wherever we are, and whoever is in it. I want Owen.

And so, I wait. Part of me thinks he will cave instantly at my passionate plea. But he doesn't. In fact, his face contorts in pain.

"Owen, talk to me."

He gives me a sad smile and reaches up to stroke my cheek. "My gorgeous Little C. I love you too."

I want to rejoice at the words, but I know he isn't done.

"But it's not enough," I finish for him. "Not enough to risk your career."

"It's not just... It's not just that." He stands and takes a couple of steps over to the windows. Though his back is to me, as he looks out into the night, I can see his reflection in the glass. He is hurting. I want him to say more, but I know not to rush him. He is, as always, carefully finding the words. "You deserve better than me," he says finally, without turning around.

I jerk back.

"What? That's a stupid thing to say. There's no better than you. That's a line you give someone when you don't want to be with them. If you don't want to..."

"No." His shoulders heave. He is crying. I rush to him, turning him around and wrapping him in my arms.

---