Meant to Be (Sweetbriar Cove #1)(36)

"So, that guy . . ." Owen continued, as if he'd seen it written all over her face. "He's just a friend?"

Poppy took a breath. "Yes. No. Nothing's happened," she said quickly, still feeling like she owed him an explanation. "We had dinner, and . . ." She gulped. "I mean, I just met him. Here. He wasn't . . ."

"The reason you left me," Owen finished.

Poppy cringed. It was bad enough when she'd sat him down that day to tell him it was over, but now, she had a different kind of guilt to reckon with. Standing here with Owen, he felt like a stranger. Part of a life she hadn't even thought about in weeks. They'd shared their hopes and dreams, spent years together, and picked out their future right down to the china pattern on the registry list, but all that had faded away, so far it felt like a dream. It was shameful just how fast she'd cast him aside, and even thought she knew it was a sign that their relationship had always been doomed to failure, Poppy still ached to see the sadness in his eyes.

"Owen . . ." She didn't know what to say. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought, maybe if we talked . . ." he began, his expression turning hopeful. "You got cold feet, and I get it. All the wedding plans, our families-it was crazy. You needed some time to yourself, to figure it out. But we can make this work."

"Owen, no." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you, but I meant what I said. I can't marry you."

"So we don't get married." Owen closed the distance between them and took her hands, holding tight. "We stay engaged, or just together. Whatever you want. I don't need a piece of paper to know you're mine."



       
         
       
        

Poppy stepped back. "But I'm not. Yours." She looked up at him, searching for a way to make him understand. "You know I'm right. It's been wrong for a long time between us."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Things were fine."

"Fine," Poppy echoed sadly. "Is that what you really want? To build a life together on 'fine'? Don't you think you deserve more than that?"

Owen sagged. "We could try-"

"Please." Poppy stopped him. "Don't. I care about you, you know I do. But I need more than that, and you should, too. You deserve to be with someone who can't imagine a world without you, who wakes up every day filled with gladness that they get to share their life with you. Not just 'fine.' "

Owen dropped her hands. He slowly went and took a seat at the table, and Poppy could see the denial finally slip away. "You couldn't have figured all this out before we sent the invites?" he asked with a rueful look.

"I'm sorry. But imagine if we'd gone through with the wedding," she pointed out. "We'd be hiring divorce lawyers instead of just sending gifts back."

To anyone else, that wouldn't have been much consolation, but Owen was always the frugal one. He spent hours on the internet looking up bargain deals, and set up a whole system for her to track her budget. Now, he nodded, looking more cheerful. "You're right. New York is an equitable property state, too. That would have gotten messy."

Poppy let out a small breath of relief. She was the emotional one, but Owen had always weighed things with logic and fact. It was one of the reasons it would have never worked between them, but now she was relieved she had a way to make him feel better.

"And think about if we'd bought a house together," she continued. "Or combined our finances, too. I had to do this now," she said softly. "Before we went too far to take it back."

He nodded again slowly. "I figured it was worth one last try," he said, giving her a familiar smile. "In case I could talk you around. I had a whole list prepared of reasons why we should stay together."

"That's sweet." Poppy exhaled. "But this isn't like my retirement plan, or deciding whether or not to get a dog. A pro/con list doesn't really work for love."

Owen opened his mouth like he was going to argue, then stopped. "Not for you, no, it doesn't."

The tea kettle whistled, and Poppy poured them two cups. She joined him at the table. "Did you get the last of the gifts returned?" she asked, and he nodded. "I'll be sure to send thank-you notes, all the same." 

"You might want to steer clear of my mom for a while," he said, making a face. "You're not exactly her favorite person right now. Or my sister's."

"No, I'd imagine not." Poppy thought of Owen's over-protective family and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe there was a silver lining to this break-up business, after all. "What about you?" she asked. "It's a long drive back to New York this late. You're welcome to stay here, there are plenty of rooms."