“Don’t have much choice, do I?” He shrugs, a casual move that fails to mask the stiffness of his shoulders. “This is your life. If I want to be a part of it, I guess I just have to accept certain things.” His voice goes rough around the edges. “The girl I knew is gone. Emilia Lennox is gone. And as much as I fucking hate that… as much as it fucking kills me… This is who you are now.”
I flinch at the unmistakable needle of disdain threaded through his words. The wordhatecrashes around my head like a wrecking ball, smashing a foundation of friendship I thought impervious to structural damage after all this time.
This is who you are now.
Owen must see the look on my face and realize the pain he’s just inadvertently caused.
“Sorry. That came out harsher than I intended.”
“No,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “I think it came out exactly as you intended.”
“Ems…”
“It’s fine. I know how you feel about the monarchy. I won’t take it personally.”
A lie, of course.
How could I not take it personally that my best friend doesn’t like the person I’ve become? That he wishes I was still Emilia Lennox, rather than Emilia Lancaster?
I try to fight off the tears, but quickly fail. Owen sees them glossing over my eyes and his expression crumbles.
“Fuck, Ems, I shouldn’t have...” He runs a hand through his mop of hair. “I’m sorry. I’m a prick. I take it back. Okay?”
I shake my head, unable to respond. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, all that will come out is a sob.
The girl I knew is gone.
With a pained sigh, Owen reaches out and gathers me into his arms. I don’t fight him. My face hits his chest, my hands ball in the fabric of his shirt. For a long while, he just holds me close, his heart thumping steadily beneath my cheek. I absorb his strength like a fortifying elixir, a balm to wounds so deep, it’s hard to see any possible course of treatment that might heal them. With my eyes buried in the crook of his shoulder, I allow a few tears to leak out, chastising myself all the while for falling apart in front of him.
“Oh, Ems.” His hand strokes down my hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.I’m sorry. Okay?”
“Mmm.”
“I feel awful.”
“It’s fine.” I sniff. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So you forgive me?”
“Of course I do.” My voice is clogged with unshed tears. “You’re my best friend.”
There’s a marked pause. I wait for him to volley back, to return the sentiment, but it simply hangs there in the air — a baton passed between two runners with entirely different finish lines in mind.
“Owen?”
A tremble moves through him as he inhales sharply, then retreats a step — his arms falling away, his hands fisting at his sides. As I meet his eyes across the sudden gulf between us, the strangest sensation comes over me; that this is the last embrace we will ever share, the last time I will ever find myself crushed against that familiar chest, crying my eyes out the way you only can in front of someone you trust completely.
“Emilia.” I know he’s serious when he uses my full name. “I am your best friend. I will always be your best friend. But in spite of that… and maybe because of that… I have to tell you the truth.” His brown eyes are more sincere than I’ve ever seen them, stripped bare of all posturing and pretense. “I haven’t seen you as just my friend in a long, long time.”
I go still — my body, mind, and heart all ceasing their functions at once, like I’ve been thrown in a vat of icy water. I am frozen on the spot.
“I’m not sure when it started,” he continues ruefully. “Years ago. Probably before I even realized it was happening. I always figured, if I just waited long enough, it would work itself out. That if I was patient, if I didn’t push matters, we’d end up together someday. Like we were always supposed to. Like we would’ve if not for… all of this.”
My mouth gapes — a yawning cavern of stunned disbelief. I try to recover, but it’s too late. He’s already seen the shock twisting my features.
“Owen—”
He cuts me off before I have a chance to get his name past my lips. “Don’t. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to console me over this. I know I’m an idiot.”