Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(84)

I took something from my old room, too, and traded it for the evening gown I’ve been wearing for too long. I don’t need just in case clothes anymore.

I’m nearly to the hospital when I stop for coffee. After last night, I need the strongest blend they have.

That’s exactly what I order, size large. I add the cream myself at their little station in the corner. Lips to the brim of the cup, I’m blowing across the top of the coffee when someone steps in front of me.

I look up. Shock rolls through me.

“Owen, hi.” I lift my bent neck from my coffee.

His hair is longer now, blond waves that tuck behind his ears. He's dressed in navy blue slacks and a crisp blue-and-white gingham shirt with a sheep embroidered over the left breast.

“Aubrey!” His arm goes around my shoulders as we navigate an awkward side hug. Coffee sloshes onto my hand. I use the napkin in my other hand to clean up, trying to ignore the burning sensation.

“How are you?” I ask, pushing away the immediate bad feelings I have toward him. He broke my heart, but I wouldn't have Claire if he hadn’t. Or Isaac. Owen set that whole night into motion.

“I'm great.” He nods and rocks back on his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Working for the family business. Real estate,” he adds, like I may not remember. It's an unnecessary reminder. “How are you?”

“Wonderful,” I say, momentarily forgetting about the current upheaval in my life. “I’m an underwriter at Bridgewater. I have a daughter. She's four.” Just mentioning Claire makes my cheeks spread into a grin. The barista calls out a complicated coffee order, and Owen spins to grab it from the counter.

He motions to a nearby table. “Do you have time to sit?”

“Um, sure.” I sit down with my drink while Owen grabs a sleeve from the counter and slips his coffee into it.

When he sits, his eyes are soft with apology. “I'm really glad I ran into you. I’ve always told myself if I ever saw you again I would say this to you.” He sighs deeply while one hand spins the napkin on the table. “I shouldn't have broken up with you over the phone. That was shitty. I'm sorry.”

With one finger I tap the wooden tabletop, evaluating his contrite expression. The apology is nice, but there’s something else I want. I’m never going to know why my mother left, but at this exact moment it’s possible for me to learn Owen’s reason.

I nod. “Thanks, but… What I really need is to know why you broke up with me.”

He twists his lips. Sips from his coffee. Squints his eyes.

I lean forward. “Just tell me. It won't hurt my feelings. I need to know why. It's important to me. Please.”

He sighs again. He's probably wishing he'd turned around the second he saw me today.

“You were...so intense.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and scrunches his eyes. When he opens them, they look wary. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

My chin is propped on my hand, and I nod into it. “It's better than any apology.”

Owen seems to understand I mean it, because he opens his mouth. “We were young, and you soaked up everything about me. About us. You were like a sponge. And the way you loved, it was so hard. You loved with force. It was too heavy for me.” One hand runs through his hair. “Is this what you want to hear? I feel bad.”

My head shakes. “Don't. This is good. This is what I've been needing since the day your balls retracted into your body and you broke up with me by phone. On April Fools Day.” I sip from my drink, eyes on him, and smirk.

He groans, but he's half-smiling. “I deserved that.”

“You did.”

“So you have a daughter? Four?” He sits back in the chair, relaxed. Suddenly his eyebrows draw together. I can almost see his brain trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.

I sip my drink and let him sweat for a couple seconds. “Not yours,” I say as I lower my cup.

He lets out a shaky, relieved laugh. “For a second there…”

I shake my head. “Nope. No secret baby reveals happening today.” Once in a lifetime was enough for me.

We talk for a few more minutes before Owen says he has a showing he needs to get to. “I'm glad I ran into you,” he says as he stands. “You look good. Happy. Different.”

“Good luck at your showing today.” I smile up at him.

“Thanks. Let me know if you're ever in the market for a house.” His voice turns eager, the tone of a sales guy.

I lock my eyes in place so they won’t roll. “Will do. Bye.”

He pats my shoulder as he walks past. For the first time since I saw Owen, my tense muscles relax.

I love too hard. That was Owen's reason. And it says more about him than it does about me. It tells me he needs plain vanilla. White plates.

But Isaac...

He wants my color. He wants to take our hours and turn them into a life together. He's not afraid of my intensity.

It’s not until I’m in my car and driving again that I realize something.

Broken people love harder.

So why does Isaac love the way he does?





Four days after he was found, John was discharged from the hospital with instructions to rest. Aubrey is finally back at work after taking the week off to be at the hospital and then help him settle in at home. I don’t say anything to Aubrey about it, but I think Nurse Cheryl will be making some house calls. John morphed into a witty, personable man every time Cheryl came into his room, and she seemed just as smitten. I’m a big believer in fated outcomes, and both Aubrey and John finding love in a hospital isn’t a coincidence.