Page 52 of The Best I Never Had

“Can’t be worse than Thea,” the other twin says with a laugh.

Owen glances back, heat searing me. “Maybe not, but at least she’s nice to look at.”

The twins not so subtly nudge each other, looking back and forth between us. “We’ll let you get to it.”

When the door swings closed behind them, Owen and I stare at each other in silence for a minute, then he steps toward me with clear intent on his handsome face.

I put my hand out, stopping him before he can round the counter and mess up my control again. He blinks, but takes a few steps back.

“Owen,” I say, but he cuts me off.

“No, I get it.”

“It’s not that I don’t—”

“Come on, we don’t need to do that.”

“Yes, we do,” I say, a bit of desperation in my voice, but he turns away with a shake of his head.

“Thea, it’s fine. I’m not the kind of guy you—”

“Yes, you are,” I say. He has to understand. I need him to understand. “If you think I don’t want you, you aren’t paying attention. But it’s not just about me. I can’t ruin this wedding.”

He freezes, then slowly faces me. His expression is at war with itself, like he thinks I’m making up an excuse to let him down easy, but he’s too curious not to hear the full explanation.

“Why would you ruin the wedding?”

“Because I ruin everything, Owen! Everything I touch goes to shit. Case in point.” I gesture to my batter-covered hair.

He doesn’t speak, but his jaw flexes, like it’s a physical battle to keep himself from speaking.

I take a deep breath, then lay it all out for him to judge. “I told you we moved a lot in foster care. But what I didn’t say—what I guess I didn’t want you to know—is that it was all because of me. I wasn’t lying when I said I lash out. My whole life, I’ve been difficult. Angry and aggressive, convinced everyone had it out for me and Addy. To be fair, there were some foster parents who did have it out for us, but there were kind ones, too. Ones whose rules and structure I rebelled against out of principle. Each home, I pushed and pushed and pushed until I broke them, and they’d send us back.”

Owen’s brows pull together. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You were a grieving kid, and the foster system—”

I hold up a hand, needing to get it all out. “The goal of the foster system is to reunite families. If you have a family member they hope will take you in, they move you around from home to home so you don’t get too attached, which is such a fucked-up theory to begin with, but not really relevant. If you don’t have anyone—like me and Addy—the goal is foster to adoption. They pair you with homes they think may make you a permanent part of their family. But no one could ever handle me.”

I pause, my breath coming fast and shallow. Owen doesn’t speak, just patiently waits like he can tell I have to get this out. Like if I don’t, I’ll never work up the guts to say it again.

“Addy was thirteen when I aged out. It was easier for our caseworker to place one kid than two, and she was sent back to our very first foster home. The Fischers.”

Owen blinked a few times as the words registered. “The Fischers, as in—”

“As in her adoptive parents, yeah. They started the adoption process six months after Addy came back to them. If I hadn’t been in the picture, they would have adopted her right away. Our mom died when she was three, so she’d never have remembered a time before them. The Fischers would have been Mom and Dad. She lived through twelve different homes, so many horrible days and nights, because I was difficult and disruptive. I won’t be the reason she loses your family, too.”

“I’m so sorry, Thea,” he says as he moves to my side of the counter, taking my hand. We both watch as his thumb skims over mine. “But I don’t understand how that stops us from exploring whatever’s between us.”

I slip my hand from his, backing up until I smash into the refrigerator, the cold metal dousing the heat inside me and grounding me in this choice.

“What ‘us,’ Owen?” He flinches, and I rush to add, “What sort of future could we have with the way this started?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, and I can see the moment he reaches the same conclusion as me. There are only three ways this could play out.

One, we mess around in secret and risk getting caught. I can just see the way the family would gossip, throwing around speculations until the lies got too complicated to keep track of and the truth came out. Diana would either be furious or break down like Owen expects, and she wouldn’t show up for the wedding. Addy would be heartbroken.

Two, we come clean and say we didn’t date before but we are now, and we run into the same issue for Addy.

Three, we tell everyone we “got back together,” and maintain that lie for the rest of our lives.