I knew Owen was still mad at me. I could tell from the moment he "ignored" me when I called his name when he was up on the ladder, pounding nails into the frame of a house I had no idea he was building. There's no way he hadn't turned around when he heard the car coming up the drive. He knew someone was coming, even if he didn't expect it to be ME. Since coming to the cabin site often now, I know for a fact you can hear someone driving through the trees, up the drive, to the cabin, even when they're still far back. He was just waiting. He knew it was me and he was just waiting for me to be the first to speak. And since I had the favor to ask, he had to win that round. We had dated for 2 and a-half years before the fight that ended it all. It wasn't even the worst fight we had ever had; hell, we argued on our first actual date, but it was the fight that ended the really good thing we found that we had between us.
About 3 years ago, after the park fell to ruin, there was really no reason he had to stay with me like he did. We were a team that day and I know he was the one who kissed me, but I also knew it was just in the heat of the moment. He had just almost died. I hadn't thought Owen thought twice about me, except that he wanted to help me find my nephews. And he was trying not to die alongside me doing it. I really didn't think he was attracted to me at all anymore. I thought he was a smartass who liked to tease, and that his teasing wasn't always just in fun. We had tried a date because the attraction between us was definitely strong and undeniable-and it was a disaster. That day, I wondered what was happening the moment he grabbed me after I helped him up, but truthfully, I thought he was protecting me against something. At that point, I had blind trust in him. He was going to make it all okay and we'd get Zach and Gray back soon. All I wanted was to get them back in my sight. When he kissed me, I was shocked and somewhat insulted. I could read the surprise in his eyes that I had shot and killed the dinosaur that was SO close to killing him. All I could think of was of course I can fire a gun! Just because I'm a girl in heels and a skirt doesn't mean I shouldn't know how to do that! He shouldn't have been THAT surprised. And then I was instantly self-conscious. I hadn't brushed my teeth since the morning, had dinosaur shit smeared all over myself in a disgusting effort of protection, my goddamn FAVORITE white suit was now a pile of rags that definitely smelled worse that my breath. However, I thought the second time we kissed was much better that that first messy and chaotic one. The next time and the time after that were even better. Every kiss was better than the last and I think he noticed too because he chose to stay. With me. And it was not a good time for either of us, but me, especially. The severe anxiety I felt over losing everyone was crippling. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think of anything but pure red terror. It seemed like the edges of my world, the edges of my field of vision, were in this constant state of agitated red. My mind was in a constant state of agitation too, never stopping, just replaying and replaying horrifying events with the Indominous Rex that I couldn't control over and over again. The worst night was when he picked me up off the bathroom floor where I lay, curled in a ball, tears and snot running down my face as I sobbed. I hadn't showered in going on 3 days because I could not get out of bed, except to go pee. I had finally gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom around 2 am, but I lost control of my anxiety while washing my hands. I fell to the floor sobbing and he must have heard me or something woke him, because he was there beside me, right when I truthfully thought I was going to die because I was sure my heart was going to explode. He was kneeling next to me, his soothing words in my ear, his hands circling me around my ribs, under my arms, and before I knew it I was in his lap, and he was holding me and crying with me. He told me he wished he could take away it all from me. That he would if he could. And that he was right there. He held me while he scooted over and up and turned the water on for the shower. We let it run while he just held me and the room filled up with steam. My sobs finally subsided and he undressed me and himself and got us both in the shower. It was still hot and he took a wet washcloth and wiped my tears away with it. And then I started crying again because of how nice he was being to me. He pulled me to him and let the water rush over the crown of my head, while he tried to calm my tears again. He let me stand under the hot water while he lathered soap into the washcloth and then proceeded to wash me from my shoulders to the bottoms of my feet. Then he shampooed my hair and I never realized how gentle a man could be with such a womanly task and I realized I was starting to come back from the edge. I took a deep, wavering breath in and let it out slowly and he noticed, stopped rinsing my hair and caught my eye. He smiled at me.
"Keep breathing like that," he said. "Deep breaths."
I noticed he was shivering, and I realized I had been under the only stream of hot water for almost the entire time we had been in the shower. I reached back and grabbed his hand from where he was rinsing my hair and laced my fingers with his. I pulled him around so that he was facing me and grabbed his forearms. I stepped back, allowing him to step forward and stand naked fully under the water. I felt the goosebumps rise on his skin from going from the chill to the sudden heat of the shower water. And then I kissed him, long and hard, pressing my hands to either side of his face, holding him to me, trying to breathe into him how thankful I was that I had him.
He would tell me later that that moment was when he realized he was truly in love with me. He would tell me later that the first time he kissed me was because he thought he was going to die and he had fallen in love with me in the instant I fired the gun. He would tell me that that moment was one of the most intense moments of his entire life, not only because of the dinosaur snapping in his face, but because he realized that I was standing on a table directly in plain view and he couldn't shoot anything that might come at me to protect me. And that that kiss changed his entire life. He would tell me that he would never leave me. He would tell me how strong I was and how good of a person I was for him.
But then… he would even later tell me that he left because I didn't want to live in his van with him "like a bum." But that's not why he left, not really. It was what happened before that that made it so easy for him to leave. Things weren't perfect between us and we still butted heads on a lot of things. But we always managed to come out of things laughing. And we both truly loved each other, I thought. The sex was amazing, the way he was with my family was great and his ability to center and calm me was incredible. This time, we were fighting at my apartment over something so trivial; I can't even think what it was now. Something that should have held no substance but I went and ruined everything. I told him how much I actually hated our first kiss as the park fell around us. We had been drinking, but I swear to God, I could see his eyes shift and change. In that moment, the feeling of winning the fight was tarnished. Because, I knew in an instant, that I had won it. He stopped arguing with me and silently finished the rest of his beer and went to bed. I finished my glass of wine and slowly hand washed the glass. Something I usually didn't do at the level of drunkenness I was at, but I think I was trying to avoid going to my bedroom where he was. So I went to the couch and turned on the TV and finally passed out. After not talking at all the next day and night, he told me he planned to take the camper van and travel. He had actually already started packing. I was surprised and confused. He said I could come and ride with him if I wanted, but his attempt was halfhearted. And he actually used those words. "Ride" with him. Because he refused to let me drive the damn camper van EVERY TIME we took it to visit my sister and the boys or my parents. And also, by that time, I had a job managing a veterinary specialist chain and didn't hate it. He knew I couldn't just pick up and go with him. He knew I wouldn't want to. I liked my apartment with the big open rooms. I liked to drink wine by my fireplace. I liked having a place to put my things. He knew I'm a very structure orientated person, even though I relaxed a lot after the fall of the park. But I didn't want to live out of a van or a motel. Even more so out of a van that I knew he would NEVER let me drive. I wasn't destined to be a passenger in someone else's life and he knew it drove me crazy he refused to let me drive it. So, in conclusion to our quietly furious fight, I called him a bum because I was mad at him and then screamed at him to just leave. And he did.
Next I saw him, it was about five months later, and he was on the ladder. Ignoring me. Then he turned and my breath caught seeing him again. I couldn't deny that I had missed him. I drank too much at the bar and laughed at him because I was nervous and because he was acting like that old smartass Owen that drove me nuts. Then I told him what I was planning on doing and where I was planning on going and asked him to come. It came as a surprise to me to find out that he already knew and had already decided on not going. However, I was more genuinely surprised to see him on the plane that morning. I had truly given up on him coming, waiting outside the small plane that would take us back to the island. I would have to go back to the ruins without him. Now I can't help but feel somewhat guilty for asking him to come, because without my encouragement he definitely would have stayed home. Home and away from everything that fell to shit. Things got shockingly worse after we almost didn't even make it off the island alive. These animals cannot be contained. WE learned that 3 years ago, in a hard, resonating fall. But this was about more than a theme park, a theme park that shattered my innocence and ignorance to profit on living creatures when it fell. This was deliberate intentional selling of animals for killing purposes. It was about hatred. Adding greed and money to the mixture as well as unlocked cages of prehistoric dinosaurs reborn into our time and the world fell apart around us again. Somehow, some way, we ended up together, war torn and ravaged again, standing outside a dead man's estate, his young granddaughter with no one left holding on to us so tight there was no way we were going anywhere without her.