Page 22 of Easy To Lose

I take a deep breath. I wanted to wait, but I can’t lie to her. “Owen,” I say as fast as I can. From the blank expression on her face, I know she doesn’t believe me.

“Please tell me you don’t mean the same Owen who broke your heart,” she says, sadness radiating off her in waves.

“Mom, I know that what he did back then was bad, but we’ve talked about it. If you just give him a chance, I think you’ll come to like him again.” She gives me a skeptical look before her shoulders slump, and she brings me in for another hug.

“Does he make you happy?” she asks. I nod my head, hugging her back even tighter. “Then that’s enough for me. Bring him over for dinner. I’ll warn your father, but I can’t promise he’ll be as understanding as I am.” I chuckle as I nod, knowing that I may be leading Owen to the slaughter.

I hope he’ll forgive me.

Chapter 18

Owen

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” Morgan admits as we sit in my truck in front of her parents’ house.

“Hey,” I say, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are scared, her teeth worrying her lower lip to the point where I have to actively stop looking at her so I don’t just kiss the hell out of her right here. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” I kiss her lightly before opening my door and heading around the front of my truck to open hers.

“Such a gentleman,” she teases as I help her out and kiss her one last time, hidden behind the truck’s cab.

“I’m not always a gentleman.” I groan against her lips as she kisses me harder, pulling me closer as her hands clasp my face.

“I don’t want what happens in there to affect what happens out here…” I know she’s worried. I’ve seen it in her eyes the last couple of days. I didn’t think I needed to reassure her, but apparently, I was wrong.

“Baby, listen to me. There is nothing they can say that will make me stop the feelings I have for you, okay? I know they hate me for what I did to you, and they have every right to, but I’m here so they can see how much I care for you. How much I want to make up for all those lost years because of my teenage delusions of grandeur.” She gives me a small smile before I kiss her lightly one last time and take her hand, leading us to the front door.

“I just want you to be prepared,” she murmurs the closer we get to the front steps. I squeeze her hand silently, and before I have a chance to repeat my stance again that nothing will change the way I feel about her, the front door opens. A very large, imposing man steps out.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Mr. Lawson says with a big smile on his face. For a split second, I wonder if Morgan was overreacting. Maybe they’ve forgiven me for what I did all those years ago. But then the man’s eyes turn to me. “Owen,” he states. No hello, no smile. Just a stern look that tells me loud and clear that tonight is going to be anything but easy.

“Daddy…” Morgan warns as Mr. Lawson’s eyes shift from mine to his daughter’s.

“What?” he questions, a big smile crossing his face as he starts laughing, holding out his hand to me. “Sorry, son, I was only joking. It’s nice to see you again.” Morgan swats at her father’s arm as I stand there dumbfounded.

“Seriously, Dad? That was not funny,” Morgan says as her eyes flick to mine. I know my brow is still furrowed. “You okay?” she asks, and for a second, I think she’s talking to her father. When no one answers, I shake myself out of whatever haze I’m in and nod.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Lawson,” I state, still not really knowing where I stand but happy the stern look has disappeared at least.

“Please, call me James.” He gives my hand a shake and pulls me in for a quick hug that sets every limb at ease. I glance over at Morgan. She just rolls her eyes at the stunt her father just pulled.

“Come on, Owen, let’s go inside.” I follow her into the modest bungalow that looks identical to its neighbors from the outside. But the minute I step foot into the house, it’s like I’ve been transported to high school. The décor hasn’t changed a bit since the last time I was here. Every wall is covered in wallpaper, every piece of furniture some kind of floral pattern, and the pink shag carpet under my feet pulls the entire look together.

“Mom! We’re here!” Morgan yells from the doorway. The second her mother pokes her head out of the kitchen and locks eyes with me, I know her stern look isn’t a joke. Diana Lawson is the one I will have to win over.

“Honey! So glad you’re here,” she says, wiping her hands on a tea towel and walking out and our way. She envelops Morgan in a hug and then turns to me. “Owen, it’s nice to see you.” She isn’t unwelcoming exactly, but her tone tells me everything I need to know.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Lawson. I appreciate your hospitality.” Her eyes narrow, and I can see her brain working to find a way to twist what I just said into something she can hold against me later. Morgan interrupts her by taking my hand and leading me into the living room.

“You watching the game, Dad?” James nods as he sits down in his lounge chair, the same seat that Morgan used to sit in when we studied together. He turns up the volume. We take the hint and sit down on the couch as Diana goes back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to Morgan, who is just as engrossed in the game as her father. I make my way into the kitchen. When I poke my head in through the door, I take a second to admire the way Mrs. Lawson commands the kitchen. Every burner has something cooking, and the oven is on and full of something that smells delicious.

“Mrs. Lawson?” I call, hoping not to startle her. “Do you mind if I help?” I’m horrible in the kitchen since my mother kicked me out for burning French toast. But I know this is the only way I’m going to get through to the woman who hates me right now.

“Oh no, dear. That’s fine. I have everything under control.” She dismisses me faster than I thought she would, but I still don’t move. “Owen, you don’t need to suck up to me,” she states matter-of-factly, and I can’t help but smile because that bluntness has definitely been passed down to her daughter.

“That’s not what this is about. I know you’re still upset about what happened all those years ago, and I just want to explain myself.” I told Morgan I was going to do this last night. She told me I didn’t have to, but I know it’s the right thing to do. If I don’t explain, they’ll hate me like I’ve hated myself for years.

“The only person you owe an explanation to is my daughter. And since she’s forgiven you, I guess I should, as well.” I shake my head. That’s not good enough for me because I know those seeds of doubt will fester unless she knows the whole story.

---