She heard the bitter guilt corroding every word, and her heart ached. “That’s understandable,” she said softly.
He lifted his lowered head to give her another bleak look. “It gets worse.”
“All right.”
“When I was sixteen my mum ended up in A&E with a couple of broken ribs and a black eye. I went at my dad, giving him all I had. I was stronger and faster than he was, and I beat him up pretty badly. When my mum found out…she was furious. She didn’t want him to be hurt. She wanted him to be home with us. And the next day, when she was still in hospital, he left. Less than a year later he was dead in a stupid brawl. My mother never forgave me.”
“None of that was your fault.”
“I ruined my family,” Owen stated bluntly. “First my dad, and then my mum, and then my sisters. One of them ended up on the drink like my father.”
“Not your fault—”
“I saw it happening, and I didn’t do a damned thing because I was heading the same way myself. In fact, I gave her her first drink when she was only thirteen. She’s never recovered. And then there’s my other sister, Carys. When I left at seventeen, she begged to come with me. She said she’d die in Cwmparc. She was sixteen, a year younger than me, and desperate. I left her there. And she’s still there—with no husband, four kids going wild, and an addiction to prescription painkillers. Is that not my fault, Emily? I didn’t save any of them. I got myself the hell out and they’re lucky if they get a telephone call from me once a year, because I can’t stand the guilt.”
“Then make amends,” Emily said steadily. “Set it right.”
He gave her a look of mingled hope and despair. “How?”
“By calling them more. By helping them—”
“How? Because I’ve got nothing now. I sunk everything I had into that pub, and the insurance payment is barely going to cover my debts. I’ve got no job—”
“So you can get a job,” Emily returned. “You have fifteen years of experience in owning and running a small business. Why shouldn’t you start again and succeed? Plenty of other people have.” She pointed a finger at him. “You know what your problem is? Your head is stuck in Cwmparc. You think you can’t amount to anything even now, when you’ve already done so much. People can change, Owen. They can grow stronger and braver and better. Look at Henry. He made a huge mistake with Jace—and yes, I know all about that—but he changed. Look at Ava. She turned around her life around. So did Jace, and Alice, and even Harriet… I don’t know a single person in Wychwood who hasn’t had some sort of hard time! It doesn’t have to be different for you.” She felt a sudden, surprising spike of anger. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“What?” He stiffened in shocked affront. “I’m not…”
“Yes, you are. You think you’re the only one who has made mistakes, has regrets? You think I don’t regret shutting people out of my life for years and years, and then letting my OCD tendencies control me? Huh?” Her voice rose, strident and powerful. It felt good to shout at him, to shake him up. Good and necessary.
“Emily…” Owen looked shell-shocked by her outburst.
“And what’s with your saviour complex, Owen?” she continued relentlessly, on a roll now. “You wanted to save me? Well, guess what, I don’t need saving. I need someone to understand, and encourage me, and be there, but I don’t need someone, even you, sweeping in on your white horse and saving me. All I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, is what Ava said. For someone to think I’m worth saving.”
“I do think that—”
“Then let go of all your guilt because it’s not helping anything. How is running away again going to solve anything? You feel guilty for getting out of Cwmparc. Do you think you’ll feel better getting out of Wychwood?”
“It’s not like that,” Owen said with some fire in his voice. “I can’t stay.”
“Why not?”
“What do I have to offer you?”
“I told you, I don’t need for you to have a fat wallet or an impressive job. I don’t care about those things.”
“And if I’m a useless plonker on benefits?”
“That’s not who you are,” Emily answered steadily. “If you have to go on benefits for a bit, fine. Plenty of people do. My mother is. But you’ll get back up on your feet, Owen. You’ve come this far. Why put a ceiling on what you can accomplish, especially when you have so many friends to help you? When you have me by your side?” Her heart beat hard as she said the words. She meant everything she said, but she was conscious that she was really putting herself out there. If he turned away from her now…
She’d be devastated. She’d also be blisteringly angry.
Owen was silent for a long moment. He was still holding her hand, so that was a good thing, but Emily sensed the indecision in him. The torment.
“Owen, I meant what I said—you’ve been strong for me,” she said quietly. “So strong. But now it’s my turn to be strong for you. I don’t want to be the only one who needs help and support. That’s not the point of a relationship. Let me be strong for you. Let me…” Her voice caught. Now she was laying herself bare, offering herself up on an altar. “Let me love you.”
Still Owen didn’t speak. Emily didn’t either, because she’d said everything she knew to say. His head was lowered so she couldn’t see his face. Her heart was thudding so hard she felt sick. She realised she was squeezing his hand as hard as she could, and she tried to relax—and failed.
“Do you really love me?” he finally asked in a low voice and
