The door opened further, and then Emily stood there. She was dressed in one of her elegant work outfits—a slim-fitting pencil skirt in navy with a pink silk blouse that had little pearl buttons. Her hair was twisted up in some fancy way, and she looked beautiful and sexy and impossibly remote. How could he have thought they’d have a chance, even for a moment?
“What are you doing here?”
She blinked at his surly tone, and then stepped into the room. “I wanted to see you.”
Owen spread his arms wide to encompass all the damage—the rubble still littering the floor, the damp walls, the complete ruin. “Not much to see.”
Her slate-blue gaze scanned his face. “I’m so sorry, Owen.”
“So am I.”
She stared at him, and he stared back, and there didn’t seem to be much more to say. He dropped his arms and was about to turn away when she asked, “Have the insurance people come to look at it?”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Yes.”
“And what did they say?”
He swallowed, feeling like there was a stone in his gut. “They’ve managed to find a way to keep from paying for most of the damage.” Bitterness corroded every syllable, bitterness and guilt, because he knew this was his own damned fault. “The cellar wasn’t an approved place for storage, because of the flood risk, so I’m not covered for any of that damage, and the ceiling falling in isn’t covered, either, because I hadn’t damp-proofed when I’d been told to.” Never mind he hadn’t had the money. “And because I was cheap, I got the cheapest policy, so all the fixtures and furnishings are covered at their current value, rather than new for like. So that’s about a hundred quid, if I’m lucky.” He let out another sigh. “It’s my own fault. I know that. I should have taken out a better policy, and paid attention to the small print. I should have damp-proofed the upstairs, but I didn’t think it was as bad as it obviously was. I know.”
“I’m sorry.” She spoke quietly, sadly, and Owen shook his head.
“It’s all right.” Even though it wasn’t.
“What will you do?”
“I’ll have to pack it all in.” He shrugged, or tried to, even though the words felt like something physically breaking inside him. “I can’t afford to fix it all. I bought this place when it was a falling-down mess, with a business loan I still have to pay back. There’s no money for this level of renovation.” He kicked at a piece of rubble. “The Drowned Sailor just gave his last gasp.”
Emily was silent, and he looked at her, saw her brow was furrowed. Her lips pursed thoughtfully as she scanned the room. “You disagree?” He spoke scoffingly, because to him it was all too obvious.
“No, not necessarily. I just hate the thought of you having to give up.”
So did he, yet having her say it made him angry, although he couldn’t have said why. “I don’t have any choice—”
“I know.” She took a step towards him, one hand held out in appeal. “Why are you acting as if you’re angry with me? I haven’t seen you in three days—”
“I’m not angry with you. I’m just angry about everything.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Something flickered in Emily’s eyes. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
He didn’t deny it. “What with all this…” He paused, still not wanting to say it. Not wanting to feel it. He’d been trying to save Emily, and he was hurting her instead.
“With all this?” Emily repeated. Her voice came out strong, but still with a quaver. “What is that supposed to mean, Owen? With all this, what?”
“I’m not… I can’t…” He swallowed. He was such a coward. He couldn’t even say it, but then he saw that he wouldn’t need to.
Realisation flashed darkly in Emily’s eyes and her lips trembled before she pressed them together. “Are you trying to break up with me?”
“I…”
“That is, if there was anything to break up? I know we haven’t really been dating—”
“We have.” He wasn’t going to tarnish or diminish what they’d had, even now. “You’ve…been important to me, Emily.”
“Past tense.” The words were bitter. Owen didn’t reply. “I don’t understand you. Three days ago we were walking around London like we were—like we were in love, and now all of a sudden it’s all off? How did that happen?” The words burst out of her, radiating with hurt.
“I still care for you,” Owen allowed. “I just can’t focus on a relationship when my whole life has fallen apart.”
“But isn’t that precisely when you should focus on a good thing in your life?” Emily demanded. “When everything else has gone wrong?”
Yes, if things were that simple. If he felt like he had anything to offer Emily, but now he didn’t. He was back to being the roughed-up kid from the wrong side of the tracks, with nothing in his bank account and no job prospects whatsoever. He’d probably end up on benefits, drinking his life away just like he would have done if he’d stayed in the valleys. Maybe there were some things you just couldn’t escape.
“I’m sorry, but I’m really not in a place to have a relationship now. I have nothing to offer you.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”
“No.” The word was flat, uncompromising.
Emily flinched, and tried to hide it, and it hurt Owen more than if she’d just taken it on the chin, or gone all prickly, the way she used to. She’d changed, and he’d been part of that. He’d helped her, and now he was hurting her. The way he always did.
“So that’s it,” she said quietly. “That’s just it.”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly, accepting, her face pale, a dazed yet determined look in her eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help around here?”
After what he’d just done, she wanted to help him? Her kindness and generosity just made Owen feel worse, and more certain that he’d done
