I can still see him in his crisp ensemble, likely put together by his husband Adrian.

Those rounded black-framed glasses perched atop Owen's nose, adding an intellectual flair to his classic charm. His bronzed skin that complements his almond brown eyes, framed by thick dark lashes and well-kept curly hair tapered at the sides.

He had a hint of stubble on his sharp, angular jaw. I'm unsure if he was trying something new or forgotten to shave, but it gave him an almost villainous look to him as Owen sat in his favorite armchair by the crackling white fireplace. An amused curve on his pink lips that felt like a slap to the face as he casually propped one ankle on his lap. With a steaming cup of tea cradled in one hand, the saucer in the other.

"Honor is your sister," I said in an accusatory tone.

"You are a few weeks late," Owen replied, his English accent punctuating his sarcastic remark. I recall how badly I wanted to scream as he raised the cup to his mouth while he muttered, "Years, but, tomato, tomato."

I paused the recording. It was so seamless no one would notice, but I needed to call him out and it didn't need to be on the record.

Over the years, I've grown closer to Lucca over the others, but regardless, I looked at Owen like a friend. I thought his hands were tied. For legal reasons he didn't want to name the true Honor, who in the books was his character inserts best friend who fell in love with his older brother.

I didn't know how to put into words what it felt like to have the answers I sought sitting right there on the fireplace mantel. Or that I was scooped by some stans trying to defend their idols honor and prove whoever Honor was, she was no comparison to Simone.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I yelped. "Why the wild goose chase? Why all the secrecy? She's your sister. How hard is that to say?"

"Well that's a little dramatic love," Owen shot back casually sipping his tea.

"And that's not?" I waved my hand in his direction. "You look like a twink bond villain."

"I resent that," Owen shot back his smirk painted on his pink lips as he placed down his fine china. "I'm a top and lift far too often to be called a twink."

"Owen!"

"Lilah..." He drolled. "Admittedly, it burns me too. I had always thought it would be one of my readers to figure it out. I mean at the very least you all read. But hell hath no fury like a stand who makes their bias their entire personality. I honestly thought it would have been you."

I didn't know how to respond to that. I wanted to say his books weren't my entire personality, that he was full of himself, but we both knew that would be a lie. If it wasn't for the SG series I wouldn't have a career, friends. I think part of me was angry the mystery was over because I didn't know what came next.

It just hurt that my favorite author would speak to me that way.

"Is this how you speak to your friends?" I glared at him.

"No," Owen replied. "But we're not friends."

That one caught me off guard. We had spent the holidays together. I was at his wedding, but as Owen explained it, it was only because I reminded Lucca of his lost sisters.

"I can see Catalina," Owen granted. "But you are nothing like my nugget. Unless discussing how painfully optimistic Inez could be but for you... it feels naivety. Or a parasocial bond..." he said as though he weren't sure.

"For me, you were a means to an end. I may have written them but these books are the only children Inez and I will ever have. She wanted to see them come to life," He told me, smiling as he recalled the determined look on Inez's face as she would tug his ear and remind him the actresses that played both herself and his mother had to be deaf. "You can press record now."

I'm on sure how long I sat there. My eyes on my hero as he flicked his fingers in silent command to go.

The recording begins right where we left off. My voice a little quieter than it had been moments before.

"Why not just tell people Honor and Ethan were based on you and your sister. Wouldn't it make their bond all the more profound?" I questioned.

"I wasn't going for profound," Owen replied. "I wanted genuine. I was in recovery and I missed my sister. I hated how things wound up so I wrote myself a new ending. The series itself came a long way from the original. Most of the sex scenes were gender bent retellings of my time with Inez and Adrian, my sister and I are close, but not that close," Owen quipped as he took a sip of his tea.

Owen informed me that the sex scenes were Inez's idea. She saw his story as a romance and enjoyed spice, where Owen was simply writing a revisionist history. A smile at his lips as he said, "She always had better ideas than I did. She was braver too. It was her idea to shop my book. I let her. I owed her for all the years she stuck beside me. I didn't think it would be picked up, or that my sister would read it."

Alexia was horrified by Owen's first book. Her letters to Lucca, the memories and secrets they shared were suddenly a New York Times best seller, 'based on a true story.'

She railed into her brother. Cried into the phone as she made him promise to never tell anyone that she was Honor. Specifically, because her husband was heavily pro-life.

"Why did that matter to you?" I questioned, a hint of resentment in my tone. "Your brother in-law is a piece of shit and your sister is a hypocrite who didn't even attend your wedding."

"She's still my sister," Owen shrugged. "We simply do not like who the other chose to marry."

I could understand why Owen didn't like Justice. But I could only reason why Alexia was against Adrian and Owen's union when he had the blessing of his dead fiance's friends and family.

"Because Adrian's a man?" I simmered.

"No," Owen laughed at me. "Because he's Adrian. My sister will always hate Adrian. She blames him for my addiction. This is something I know. This is something I accept. With that said, it took a lot of people to keep Alexia's secret. Inez convinced Lucca, Lucca could convince everyone but Adrian who eventually saw things my way..."

There's a pause in the recording. Owen's brows furrowed as he said, "Had she not died, I wouldn't have written the last two books. They were my therapy and my meal ticket after my parents cut me off. But it helped me realize the first four were our babies. Inez wanted to see them on the big screen and because of that fucking asterisk, the only studios that would touch the adaption without the real people signing off would have her rolling in her grave. I was in this strange space that felt as if honoring one love meant betraying another and Alexia and I were in a good place. We speak nearly every day. I didn't want to lose her again, but I realized she couldn't fault me if someone else pulled her out of the closet."

I gawked at Owen, unable to believe he had said the quiet part out loud. Taking another sip of his tea he explained that he found God after losing Inez. A devout Catholic, she often asked Owen to pray with her, assuring that God didn't hate any of his children and it would help clear his mind.

Owen said the first time he had ever prayed was with Inez's parents. He had expected them to hate him. Had she not had to drag him from that bar their daughter would be alive but all they wanted was for God to heal him.

It brought him comfort. Helped him through his recovery and took some weight off his shoulders. Owen said he had prayed minutes before we had met. He asked God to help him finish. Help him bring his and Inez's babies to life. Do something to change Alexia's mind and heart. Then he went for a walk and found me camped outside his building.

"I couldn't tell you who she was without breaking my promise, I thought Lucca would. The only people he hates more than my sister are my dad and her husband. I honestly thought he would say it the very second he looked at your face and saw what I saw, but by damn that man is loyal," Owen chuckled. 

Wc: 1507

Thank you for reading The Sluts Guide to Romance. Don't forget to like, share and comment to tell me what you thought about the chapter.

Looking for a new ONC read? Check out The Summer I Really Didn't Kidnap Lance Hardwood by (he/him). A Disney Star pretends to be kidnapped, just to have some fun. Crazed fans, mad chases and mayhem ensue.