Chapter Eight

Day Eight Hundred Nine

"Owen, over here," he heard the moment he walked through the door of the bar.

Scanning faces that were unrecognizable in masks that celebrated the costumed holiday, his eyes landed on a table near the back. Alli Bhandari, dressed to the nines as Cleopatra's doppelganger, distinguished herself from the rest of the crowd by her commanding presence alone. The fact that she could pull off looking like the famed Egyptian queen like it was simply another day at the office set her even further apart from the rest of the bar's patrons.

He reached the table in record time despite being waylaid by drunk, tipsy and sober people alike. He shook hands with Eddie, kissed Hannah on the cheek and briefly embraced the miniscule woman that had been his best friend's best friend. The same best friend's best friend who was beginning to resemble a little sister to him, something he would have scoffed at not too long ago if someone had come along and predicted it happening.

"You look tired," Alli noted, pouring him a glass of beer from the pitcher that table shared.

"Back-to-back practices all week to prepare for tomorrow's homecoming game and sixty graded tests will do that to a guy," Owen replied, taking a seat at the table with an exhausted sigh. "What's the excuse for the bags under your eyes?"

"Incredibly finicky client who swears she knows everything there is to know about fashion and what I know wouldn't even fit into a thimble," Alli grumbled, throwing back a shot of clear liquid the entire table knew to be tequila. "I hate television divas, especially ones who were once on a top-rated show like Rossi High."

"Well, it was pretty much a cultural icon," Hannah pointed out. "God, I remember dying if I wasn't able to catch it every Friday night. And I remember breaking a few dates here and there just to see if Elliott and Blair were going to make it. And then there was Damon, who I swore didn't get the screen time that he deserved. Wasn't he just the sweetest to Anita?"

"What about Cali and Steve? I still can't believe he cheated on her with that one girl. And the entire one-eighty the writers did to Finn's character."

"Oh, dear God, they're losing all sense of reality," Eddie groaned. "Quick, Owen, talk about football or pool or anything else that isn't going to wreak havoc on my manhood."

"You better just watch it, mister, or I'm dropping you off at your mother's house on the way home," Hannah warned, delivering a pinch to Eddie's side that caused him to wince.

"Oh honey, you know I'm kidding. You know I wished Blair would have ended up with Damon as much as you do," he cajoled, kissing the side of his fiancé's head.

Hannah rolled her eyes but it seemed that Eddie was safe for the night. Standing, she pulled him to his feet. "Come on, lover boy, let's dance."

Eddie chuckled, letting his fiancé precede him and join the crowd in the center of the bar. "Don't tell Hannah, but I really did want Blair and Damon to get together," he said before following his wife's footsteps.

Owen shook his head as he watched the couple on the dance floor. "He really is whipped, isn't he?"

"Nah, he's just a guy in love." He recognized the quiet longing her dark eyes as she watched people pairing off on the dance floor but chose wisely to keep it unspoken. "So, I heard from Clare a few days ago."

"Oh?" This was an unexpected twist in the conversation. It wasn't that it bothered him to talk about her exactly. It was just a bit shocking to have Alli bring her name up so casually, especially since she knew that there had been no response to the e-mail sent a month prior. He reached for his glass of beer and took a long drag of the amber liquid to relieve his suddenly dry throat. "How's she doing?"

Alli shrugged. "She's tired of all the rain and exhausted from all the hours she's been putting in. But overall, she's okay."

"Well, that's good. So she's enjoying her job?"

"It sounds like it. Look, Owen, I know the two of you still aren't talking but we've sort of gotten to be friends so I thought I should tell you," Alli started, her fingers tracing the logo on one of the beer glasses as her tongue and lips stumbled over the forming words.

"Alli—"

She turned her eyes onto him and he was taken aback by the intensity in the dark orbs. "Clare's vacation is coming up and she's coming back for the first week in December. December first though the ninth, to be exact."

The news was like a punch in the gut. The multitude of thoughts that ran through his mind filtered through so quickly and held such an impact that it was as though they were attached to a freight train. A giant freight with a picture of Clare attached to the steam engine and every possible outcome that seeing each other would bring pasted on each of the cars.

Swallowing hard against the lump forming deep in his throat, he picked up his glass again and drained three-quarters of the liquid before he felt like he had the capability to speak again. "That's good. The first week of December has always been her favorite. She should spend it with her family."

"Owen—"

He shook his head, shaking off the placating tone and any explanations she could possibly give or sympathies she would bestow. "No, Alli, this is a good thing. I'm glad she's visiting. I know you've missed her so I'm sure her parents have missed her even more so."

"But what about you, Owen?" she asked.

"What about me? Look, I don't even think she'll want to see me so there's nothing to worry about." He finished his beer, stood and bent down to kiss her on the cheek. "It's going to be okay, Alli. I'm going to be okay. You shouldn't worry so much."

"Owen—"

"I said I'll be fine. Now, I got to get home. The big game is tomorrow, you know. Will I see you there?"

Alli sighed. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be on a Friday night."

He waved at Eddie and Hannah, still showcasing their moves on the dance floor, before escaping from the suffocating atmosphere inside the bar. Once outside, he filled his lungs with the crisp autumn air and let out a slow exhale to calm his raw nerves. The last thing he had needed to hear on the night before one of the most important games in his career was that she was returning.

God, why did she have to choose to return now of all times? He was finally getting his life together, finally becoming the person he should have been years before Clare had stepped into his life. He could finally look at himself in the mirror and not cringe at what reflected back. And he was finally succeeding in being able to push her to back of his mind so not every sound, smell and, God forbid, touch brought him back to that one night.

To have her come back when he was teetering on the edge of that line that separated the improved Owen from the old one was practically cruel and unusual punishment.

But he had assured Alli that he would be okay and that he was good with the knowledge that Clare would be sharing the same city's air in a month's time. However, making someone else believe that and forcing himself to believe it were two entirely different matters altogether.

Day Eight Hundred Forty-Seven

He had done his best to avoid Clare Edwards during the week that he knew she was in town. It wasn't too hard doing so between midterms and the hockey playoffs that his team had qualified for—the first time the Degrassi team succeeded in making them since Owen himself was a member. The fact that his brother was in town visiting at the same time made it that much easier to keep scarce.

So when he decided to go to the bar for a few drinks, he figured it would be the last place he would find her. Especially since she was flying home the next day and from his experience, alcohol never mixed well with flying if you wanted to remain alert. But there she was, sitting at the counter and appearing to be in deep conversation with the bartender.

He could have turned around and headed right back out of the establishment with Clare none the wiser, if only that wasn't the coward's way out. And Owen was a lot of things but the one thing he had never been was a coward. Taking a deep breath in, he solidified his fortitude and made his way to the stool right next to the one she was sitting on.

"Long time no see, Edwards." She turned to face him, blue eyes startled and a tenuous smile on her face. "Are you going to give me a hug or what?"

She seemed to relax at the question, standing and wrapping her arms around his neck. He placed his around her waist, holding her firmly against him and breathing in the familiar scent of vanilla shampoo mixed with the floral perfume worn so lightly that it was barely noticeable. When she pulled out of his embrace, he let his eyes wander over her blue jean and sweater-clad form.

It was a comfort to know that despite all the changes in his life as of late, one thing still remained the same.

"You've been hiding from me," she said once they were both seated. "And don't try to pretend you were too busy because I know when you're lying to me."

It should have been disconcerting that she knew him so well but it just added to the level of comfort she provided just by being her. "I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"You think you know me so well. One of the reasons I chose to come to Toronto for my vacation instead of some other glamorous place was to see you," she informed him. "I mean, Alli keeps me pretty up to date but hearsay and knowing firsthand are two different things."

"What do you want to know?"

Clare shrugged. "How's life been treating you? How's the job going? Are you happy?"

"Good, better and…" he swallowed, "…I guess I am."

"That's really good, Owen. You deserve to be happy."

"You always believed that, didn't you?"

"Why wouldn't I have believed that? Owen, for a time I considered you to be one of my closest friends. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't believe that my friend deserved every bit of happiness the world could give him?" she replied.

"Then why did you leave? You have to know that you made me happier than anyone has ever done before."

She ducked her head, suddenly finding more interest in the napkin her drink sat on for the moment. The silence between them became almost unbearable and when she finally did speak, her voice was so quiet that he had to lean forward to hear her words. "Because I didn't want to be the one responsible for your happiness."

Owen drew back as though she had struck him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She looked up, her eyes meeting his with an intense sadness he had never seen directed towards him. "Every guy I've ever been with has relied on me to make them feel what they needed to feel. With KC it was normalcy and Eli craved that control his illness wouldn't allow. Jake…well you know that Jake has always been that solid, responsible boy-next-door type so a relationship with me gave him that element of danger. And Austin—the last serious relationship I had before returning to Toronto—was all about having an image of perfection to hide what was a pretty flawed character.

"I was happy to be whatever they needed at the time because that's who I am, Owen. I am the woman who sacrifices my needs and desires so others receive theirs. But I didn't want it to be like that with you. I knew how unhappy you were with life and the directions it had taken you. If we would've gotten together that night, you would've been happy for a while but then life would have gotten in the way again. And I didn't want to be the one you blamed when it all went to shit," Clare explained.

"Wow," was all he could say that to that. He understood where she was coming from but soon, understanding gave way to the anger and annoyance that he felt due to the fact that she deemed herself to responsible for just how and what he felt. "You know what, Clare? With all that worrying, you never even thought to give us a chance. You must think pretty damn highly of yourself to believe that you're the one control of how everyone is feeling."

"Owen, I—"

"How do you even know what would have happened between us?" Owen demanded. "You must have forgotten to mention that you had a crystal ball stashed away."

"That's not fair, Owen."

"You know what's not fair, Clare? What's not fair is having my best friend turn tail and run off the very next day after we slept together. What's not fair is being treated like an afterthought when it was one of the most amazing nights of my life. What's not fair is having you two thousand miles away, then having you act like you're still next door and nothing has changed between us," he said, venom filling every word he spoke.

"Nothing had to change if you had answered one damn email or returned a fucking phone call or two," she spat. "You think I am so off base because I believed you would blame me if our relationship ended up going to shit. Well, look at us now, Owen. We're not even together and it's still my fault."

And the realization that Clare was actually right in everything she had said hit him like a pile of bricks. Instantly, the anger faded and regret took its place. "Clare, I'm—"

Clare shook her head and held up a hand to silence him. "Another reason I came here was to tell you that I met someone. It's not serious or anything but the fact is that it could be and I thought you should know."

Was it a pile of bricks that had hit him? Or was it a pile of boulders? "Alli didn't mention you were dating anybody."

"That's because I didn't tell her. I didn't figure a few coffees, a couple of lunch dates and a dinner were worth mentioning when I don't even know if it's going to be more," she said.

"So why are you telling me?"

"Because of that twenty-five percent chance that it could be more."

She was officially moving on and it was entirely his fault. Alli had even warned him of the happenstance but he had taken the warning with only a grain of salt and the actual occurrence was the result of his ignorance. If he could turn back the clock and just return one of her phone calls…well, there was no use dwelling on what could have been when reality was smacking him in the face. He would just have to suck it up if he wanted a chance of having any type of relationship with the woman from that day forward.

"Who is he?"

"It's just freelance photographer who has been doing a lot of work for the magazine lately." She forced a smile onto her face. "I think you'd really like him. He's funny, charismatic, intelligent, creative and so completely laid-back that it's a wonder he gets any work done at all. Although the work he does is just…amazing. And he's really into sports and travel as well as art and literature."

"It sounds like you've already decided what you want."

Clare shrugged. "I guess I have."

And it was at that exact moment that he knew he had lost her for good. He stood from the stool, leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad everything worked out for you. I got to get going. It's a school night, you know?"

She grasped his hand. "Are we going to be okay, Owen?"

He loosened his hand from her grip and brought it up along with the other to frame her face, bending to kiss her once more but on the forehead. "Just…call me when you get back to Seattle. I promise to answer this time."

Owen turned and walked away; cursing his rotten luck and wishing, not for the first time, that he could have been a little more successful at avoiding Clare Edwards.

To be continued…