Forgot To Tell You Something: An Angsty, Later in Life Romance

Life sucks. Life without Owen really sucks. I know some people will say I’ve only known him a few weeks, and it can’t be that hard. Those people can kiss my ass.

Those same well-intentioned idiots claim being friends is better than nothing. Another lie. Being friends with a man I’m so insanely, ridiculously attracted to is torture in its purest form.

Thankfully, and I’m lying when I say this, I’ve been occupied the last few nights. Okay, I’ve been creating crap to keep busy. Still, anything is better than thinking about the amazing sex I’m not having with Owen. Or the amazing sex he might be having with some other hot commodity at the hospital.

I’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not hear the women gushing over his good looks and easygoing bedside manner. They have no idea how hot his bedside manner truly is.

Crap, what if they do know?

“Ugh, I can’t do this.” I toss down my pen in frustration, earning a side-eye glance from Stefani. The woman is a saint because I’ve been insufferable the last week.

“What’s up, Lu?”

“I’m stressed.” It’s not a lie.

“I’m surprised you’re not on cloud nine today.”

“Why would I be on cloud nine?” Does she know something I don’t? Have I won the lottery, and everyone failed to mention it?

“Where did that man take you last night? He looked divine.”

“What man?” I’m not sure why I’m asking this question. I know exactly what man. What I don’t know is where he went the night before. Looking divine, apparently.

“You’re funny. I know you don’t kiss and tell but come on, give me something. A man doesn’t wear a tux every day.”

My heart sinks as I collapse into the chair. So much for Owen’s declaration of love and fidelity the other day. He really showed Nicole how involved his heart was with someone else as he escorted her to the dinner.

He claimed he wasn’t going to the dinner. Another lie. Hell, the paint is still wet on the casket of our relationship.

Easy come, easy go—a perfect motto for Owen.

“Where did you two go?”

“I didn’t go anywhere. He had a date.”

“A date?”

“Yes, Dr. Hedges invited him to some fancy-schmancy dinner at a five-star restaurant.”

“Well, that’s not a date.” Stefani drums the desk with her fingers. “That’s a work function.”

I shoot her a look. We know Nicole’s reputation—in and out of the emergency department. “It wasn’t just dinner, either.”

“Are you sure?” When I nod, she rolls her chair over, giving me a fierce hug. “I’m sorry, Lu. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I shrug, determined to present a brave face. “I’m glad you did. You’re my ride or die, remember? The one who tells me I have broccoli in my teeth or that the man I dated briefly has moved on.”

“What man is that?”

I swear Owen moonlights as a ninja. His timing is impeccable.

“Good morning, Dr. Stevens. How are you today? Late night, I’m assuming?” Stefani is cordial, but her tone carries an arctic chill.

Thank you, sweets. You always have my back.

“In need of a vat of coffee,” Owen chuckles, swigging back the last of his cup. “Tally, would you like to join me for breakfast?”

“I’m busy,” I mutter as I stalk into my office and shut the door. It’s a universal signal that I’m off-limits, otherwise engaged.

A ‘stay the hell away from me,’ sign.

It’s also one which Owen blatantly ignores as he pokes his head in the door. “Tally?”

I hate how appealing this man is on every level. Why can’t I be immune to him?

“Yes, Dr. Stevens.”

“I found this great restaurant. They have an amazing mahi-mahi dish. It’s supposed to be the best seafood in the area. I’d like to take you.”

“I’m busy.” I don’t even raise my head from my paperwork. If I look at him, every emotion will show on my face.

“I didn’t say a day.”

I remain silent. It’s my best defense at the moment.

“Tally, can we talk?”

“I’m busy. Is there something I can help you with, Dr. Stevens? I don’t have the time nor the inclination to discuss mahi-mahi right now.”

“Darlin, what’s going on?”

I stand up, bracing myself as I meet his gaze. I open my mouth to repeat my former statement, but Owen isn’t having it. He crosses the small space, pressing his fingers to my lips.

I’m tempted to bite them, but I surmise he’ll enjoy it too much. Come to think of it, I will, too.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Or what?”

He kicks the door closed, turning the latch in one deft move. Then he comes for me. Damn my tiny office.

His hulking frame backs me into a corner, as he wastes no time pressing his length to mine. “Or I’ll be forced to find other ways to get the truth out of you.” His hands are like homing devices as they skate under my skirt, sliding along my thighs.

But his talented digits are not welcome anymore. Not in my office and not on my body. “I’m not in the mood for your games, Owen.”

The teasing grin slides from his face when he realizes—finally—that I’m not kidding. “Are you still mad at me?”

Why can’t I lie? God didn’t gift me with a filter; why couldn’t he have given me a damn poker face? “No.”

“Okay, that’s a yes.”

“Did you have an enjoyable time last night?”

A knowing look crosses his features. “I’m assuming you mean the dinner?”

“Yes. I’m assuming that’s how you know how delicious the mahi-mahi is there. I know who you escorted to the dinner. You must think me very foolish, Dr. Stevens. And until now, I suppose I have been. But I won’t be sloppy seconds for anyone. Not even you.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw.

Come at me, Dr. Stevens. I’m locked and loaded.

“Wow. First,” he barks, holding up one finger, “I didn’t escort anyone to the dinner. I recall asking you to be my date, but you refused. Oh, yes, because, two,” a second finger joins the first, “you claimed that we couldn’t be together, because of your rules. A decision I was adamantly against. So, don’t give me crap now because you’re jealous.”

The bastard. “You’re right. I was jealous. Was. But then I realized, you’re just like every other guy. Not. Worth. My. Time.”

My words are untrue, but harsh zingers are my only defense against the ache in my heart. I don’t fool myself into believing I’m irreplaceable, but I didn’t plan on being optioned out this quickly.

Owen’s breathing is harried and uneven. My words have found their target. “I’m glad to know I’m not the only liar, then.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You told me you loved me. You were on board with marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. Whatever order it comes, right, Darlin?” Owen seethes, but there’s no warmth in the pet name, only pain. “But at the first obstacle, you cut and run.”

“This is not my fault.”

Owen throws up his hands, looking skyward. “I lied to you about my job. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I took a chance because I never felt this way before. So, I lied about what I do for a living, not because I’m ashamed of it. I’m damn proud of being a doctor. I worked my ass off to get here. But I lied because you informed me I didn’t stand a chance in hell if I was a doctor. Not a drug addict, not an adulterer, not an abuser—a doctor! So, I kept quiet to see if you would fall in love with me.” He leans in, his face inches from mine. “And you did. You fell as hard and as fast as I did. But in the end, my job title was more important than the fact that I love you.”

“Have you once, in all of this, stopped to consider how I feel?”

“Tally, that’s pretty much all I’ve done.”

I stand up, glaring down at him as he slouches into the chair. “No, you haven’t. Not once. You keep insisting that I should overlook this indiscretion, but your apologies are half-assed, at best. You didn’t come clean, Owen. I found out your identity from our chief-of-staff. In the weeks we were together, you had so many opportunities to sit me down and have a serious conversation, but you never did.”

“Would it have mattered?”

The truth? I would have been terrified and angry, likely punched a wall, and then spent a few hours in the ED getting my injured paw wrapped. But I would have caved. For Owen. For us.

But now, it’s too late. He’s moved on, or is in the process, no matter how much he argues that fact.

I shrug, wiping away a few more tears. “I can’t answer that because you never gave me a chance, but now you’re angry that I won’t give you one. I don’t abide by secrets and lies, Owen. Besides, you’ve already moved on. I don’t see what else there is to discuss.”

He needs to leave. Now. My bravado is as thin as rice paper, ready to crumble from one more blow.

Owen ignores my statement about Nicole, but he seizes on another part. “You want to talk about secrets, Tally? I didn’t know your father had dementia.”

“It wasn’t a secret. I didn’t tell you, because some people can’t handle the stress of chronic illness, particularly when their new girlfriend is the caregiver.”

Owen taps the desk with his thumb while his foot drums out a rhythm on the floor. I’ve seen him angry before, but this is a whole new level of agitation. “Here’s the problem with that statement. I’m not some people. When are you going to realize that?” He stands, pacing the small space. “I want to know about your scars.”

I freeze, externally and internally. I know Owen is aware of them, but I won’t dive headfirst into the shallow end of the pool. “I don’t want to talk about them, Owen.”

“Well, I do! I want to know what that son-of-a-bitch did to you because I’m paying the price for his actions. But you won’t tell me a thing, because that would involve letting someone in. Christ, even Stefani doesn’t know what happened with that man.”

My heart beats like a freight train, threatening to derail and explode into a million shattered pieces. “How dare you dig into my past without my permission. You have no right—”

Owen grabs my arms, forcing me to look at him. “Oh, I dare. I hoped your best friend might have some insight, but you’re a vault, Tally. Look at you, mad because I’m trying to find out what happened to you, instead of realizing why I’m trying to find out.”

My office line rings, and I’m thankful for the distraction. It’s the emergency department. I’m needed—one of my many hats at Memorial. I hang up the phone, taking a sip of water. “I have to go to the ED.”

“I would say we can talk later, but you never pick up the phone.” He shrugs, both of us searching for some way to fix this mess.

He follows me out of the office, and who, but Dr. Nicole Hedges is waiting at the nurses station. It would be funny if she weren’t trying to bag the man I love. Before Owen’s arrival, I saw her maybe once a month for a patient consult. The Emergency Department is her usual haunt. But lucky me has seen her a few times already this week.

Joy of joys.

“Owen, there you are! Always hiding in Lu’s office, aren’t you?” She gives his arm a playful punch. “Are we still on for drinks tonight?”

Game. Set. Match.

I’m done.

I gather my paperwork and storm to the elevator, pushing the button and trying to maintain some semblance of calm.

“I can explain,” Owen states, his eyes apologetic, his expression rueful.

“It’s not my business. But please, stop acting like you want us back when it’s blatantly apparent that she’s more than a work colleague.”

“Tally—” Owen begins, but the doors slide open. Thank the Gods, there’s only room for one of us.

Time for me to go.

I need to put on my game face. Anything happening between Owen and me must remain at the door.

The woman inside is tiny. According to the medical report, her name is Marla. She’s twenty-six, one hundred pounds soaking wet, and covered in all manner of lacerations and contusions.

I hate that I know how she feels.

Her story is like so many other women, but equally heart-wrenching.

He was a nice guy in the beginning.

Then things changed.

Maybe it’s her fault. If she had dinner ready when he got home, he wouldn’t have started drinking.

It’s all bullshit. She’s a victim, even if her abuser won’t let her admit that fact. This case differs slightly from so many others that roll through the emergency department. Namely, because Marla is ready to leave Earl, the monster who gifted her with this colorful collage of bruises.

She’s afraid for her son because Earl thinks he’s weak and needs toughening up. Marla knows his discipline all too well—she’s felt it countless times.

As the Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner, I have a process. Once my examination is complete, and the paperwork filed, we can address the elephant in the room. Where can we discharge Marla that is safe for her and her son?

That’s where Beth comes in. She’s one of my best friends and the director at the local women’s shelter. She’s also the only one who knows the full story behind my scars because she bears scars of her own.

Beth works as a victim advocate, and she’s bar none at giving the extra nudge necessary for an abused woman to seek safety. Thankfully, Marla reached that conclusion on her own. Now, with Beth’s help, they will move into the shelter and away from Earl.

“Code gray, emergency. Code gray, emergency.”

We reserve the term code gray for a violent altercation. My ears perk up as the voice sounds over the intercom, and I intrinsically know that Earl has arrived at the hospital.

“Stay in here,” I warn Marla, leaving her in the exam room with Beth. I turn into the hall and come face to face with a crazed man, swinging his arms wildly.

Lovely. He’s a live wire.

“Sir, you need to calm down.” A nurse tries unsuccessfully to deescalate the situation.

“I need to speak to my wife.” Then his gaze swings to me.

I haven’t uttered a word, but he knows I hold the information he’s seeking.

“You,” he sneers. “You know where my wife is, don’t you? I want to talk to her.”

“What is your name?” I inquire, swallowing my fear and moving toward him.

“My name is Earl, and I know that bitch is here. Our neighbor told me she was leaving, spouting some lies about me hitting her.”

That’s the other thing. Marla has agreed to press charges. Earl made it significantly easier for the police to track him down. In fact, here they are now.

Like I said, timing is everything.

Earl is read his rights and handcuffed, hurling obscenities in my direction. One, in particular, shakes me to the core. “Just wait, you filthy whore, until I get out. I’ll find you. I’ll finish what he started.”

As far as I know, Earl doesn’t know the monster I dated, the demon who left the scars along my side. But even the smallest kernel of fear is enough for my knees to wobble.

I return to the exam room and promise Beth and Marla, in a shaky voice, that Earl is headed for the station house, and they are safe to leave, complete with a police escort.

Beth pulls me out of the exam room, grabbing my arm. “What is it, Lu? I see it in your face.”

I shake my head, not letting the seeds of hate Earl tossed about take hold. “Nothing, just another asshole.”

“What did he say? Did he threaten Marla? Her son?”

“No. He threatened me. Said he would finish what my ex started.”

Beth pulls me to her, squeezing me tight. She says nothing. What is there to say? She knows, as well as I do that as long as your abuser is on this side of the dirt, you’re never truly safe. Hell, even when they are behind bars, there’s still a danger.

“Tally? Are you okay?” Great. Owen, who’s never in the ED, just happens to be here.

I pull back from Beth, offering him a stiff smile. “I’m fine.” It may be rude, but I don’t plan on introducing Owen and Beth. Why complicate matters?

Owen takes that job upon himself. “Hi, I’m Owen Stevens.”

How odd. He didn’t introduce himself as a doctor.

Beth shakes his hand, smiling up at him. No woman is immune to the man’s charm. “Beth Smith.”

“How do you know Tally?”

Okay, time for me to jump in. “Dr. Stevens is our new interventional cardiologist. He’s a brilliant addition to Memorial.”

Beth’s eyes widen with recognition. No surprise, since I talked about him non-stop during our brief courtship. To her credit, she hides it well. “You’re a doctor?” Beth inquires. “Well, I suppose the white coat and scrubs are a dead giveaway.”

It’s unfair. Most people are shapeless in scrubs, but Owen? He fills them out to the point of bursting. No wonder he’s on the top of every woman’s eye candy list.

Time to steer the conversation to neutral territory. “Beth runs the women’s shelter downtown. She helps patients who need a safe haven.”

“We’d be lost without Lu. This woman is tireless in her work and dedication.” Beth wraps an arm around me in an embrace. “I’m going to head out.”

“I’ll check in tomorrow. Call me if you need anything,” I remind her, watching as she guides Marla to a new life, free from abuse.

“Ken told me you’re the Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner.” Figures Owen would glean info off one of my closest cardiology buddies, the talented and big-mouthed Dr. Jessop.

I meet Owen’s gaze, not emotionally ready for another round. Thankfully, I find only compassion in his eyes. “They need a voice. I understand—” I break off, realizing this is the first time I’ve intimated to Owen that I’m an assault survivor.

He pulls me to a quiet alcove, cupping my face with his hands. “My God, Darlin, what did he do to you?”

I blink back tears. Time to come clean. “Bad things.”

Pressing his forehead to mine, I feel the emotion in his voice. “I’m not him, Tally. Please let me in. Let me protect you.”

“What are you doing down here?” I inquire, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Were you looking for me?”

Uh-oh. I know avoidance when I see it, and Owen is looking everywhere but at me right now. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

I’m about to ask why he’s here. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but then I spot Nicole, and I have my answer. To think, I almost caved. I must be stronger, which means more distance between me and the man who will shred my heart when he falls in love with another woman.

“Ah, I see.” I step away, nodding in Nicole’s direction.

Owen’s eyes widen. “It’s not just us for drinks. I swear, Tally. Come with us. Or, let me cancel this evening, and you and I can go somewhere.”

Just like the first night, I feel like a third wheel. A flat third wheel. In other words? Totally useless. “I have some work to finish. Have a good time.”

“Tally,” Owen calls after me, but I’m not waiting around for him. He’s made his choice.