He Erased Me From The Photo I Erased Him From My Life Chapter 11
On Friday of my second week, I walked into the lobby and saw Owen.
He was standing by the front desk, dark circles under his eyes and a rough shadow of stubble on his jaw. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
Naomi glanced from him to me. I handed her my laptop bag.
“Go on up. I’ll be right there.”
Only after she was gone did Owen speak, his voice hoarse.
“Natalie, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He froze.
“You came all this way, and you still can’t say what you did wrong?”
Owen’s lips parted, but no sound came out. “You saw the hotel order, didn’t you? Sloane was falling apart that night. I just wanted to help her—”
“And changing our wedding menu to suit her tastes was helping her, too?” I cut him off, my voice level.
“At the barbecue, when she deliberately spilled sauce all over me, and the first thing you cared about was whether *she* was startled—was that also helping her?”
The color drained from his face.
“And at the clerk’s office, when all she needed was a ride for Lucy, and you left me standing there alone to go to her.”
I looked him straight in the eye, my words sharp and clear.
“Was that helping her, too?”
Owen opened his mouth, but he had no answer.
“You always knew she was crossing the line,” I said. “You just assumed that no matter how many times you chose her, I would still be there, waiting.”
I took a step back and pulled out my keycard.
“Owen, you and Sloane deserve each other.”
Then I swiped into the building and walked through the security gates without looking back.