"Bet she didn't tell you that eh? Still wanna be with her?"

I pivot around with angry tears welling in my eyes. 

"Bastard!" That's all I can get out my mouth, because what I feared most has happened.

"I'm the only one who would be willing to marry you. So you should take my offer. You've got nothing to lose and everything to gain."

My whole body is quivering, both arms stiff at my sides, my fists clenching and unclenching. 

I was admitted to a hospital in California that day three years ago. Only Duncan was present and as the child's father, the doctor of course informed him about the unfortunate result of my accident.

I wasn't able to bear child anymore.

I don't know why his parents would approve of him seeking me for marriage now, unless he didn't tell them. 

But why?

"You're right. You're the one who would be on the losing end, so why are you doing this?"

Why are you causing me so much pain again? That's my real question.

"It's because he thinks no one would want to marry a cripple."

Perplexity rises in the thick of my despair, but Owen's statement rings true when Duncan's face crumbles.

"W-What? Cripple?"

"He met with an accident a couple of years ago and lost his right leg. An assault to be more exact. Gangsters had beaten him up and destroyed his leg because he stuck his cock in the wrong place."

My eyes automatically drift down to Duncan's leg. 

It's covered by his pants but now that I'm paying attention, the right one seems to be less filled out than the left.

Was that why he sounded so breathless after walking?

A prosthetic leg?

I bring my eyes up to his, which are brimming with sorrow, fury and embarrassment.

"We're both damaged goods, Cyra. We're perfect for each other. Don't you see that?" The desperate gleam in his eyes borders on hysterical.

"No I don't see that, Duncan." 

All the reservoirs holding my emotions have been emptied by now, and I'm left hauntingly hollow, only mental weariness accompanying me. 

I can't even bring myself to feel pity for him. 

"I don't want to marry you, because you left me during my darkest hours, and made me live the nightmare alone. And now, I'd rather be alone forever than be with you."

"I understand now! I do! And I'm s-sorry! S-So sorry! Please, Cyra... Give me another chance."

"Why should I, Duncan?"

"I... Because I need you! Only you can understand me. Y-You were always there for me! And I'm- I'm a cripple. Everywhere I go, people look at me like... like... I'm worthless."

He admits that last part in a strangled voice, but I only shake my head and walk away rigidly.

"No, please Cyra! I understand now! I understand why you always helped people who needed help a-and I need it now! So please! Help me! Help me..."

The sound of his voice cracking makes me glance back. 

Duncan drops down on his knees to the ground, a metallic sound clanking through the dead night. With his head bowed, he weeps into his hands. 

The sound is one of torment and despair.

He is lost.

But how can someone who is also lost, help him out of the darkness?

Maybe it's his karma, or maybe he was just unlucky, but I won't judge. 

I'm going to let it all go now. 

I wait until he regains control over his emotions to say my piece.

"I forgive you, Duncan. I forgive you. You did what you thought was right for yourself. So right now, I'm doing what I think is right for me."

He lifts his head, hands braced on his thighs, and gazes at me with bloodshot eyes, like I'm his last chance at surviving his own nightmare.

"You need to leave."

He scrambles to his feet with effort, limping a little when he walks up to me. But he's stopped by Owen's large frame. 

Duncan tries to push past him but a firm hand on his chest once again halts his progress. 

"Don't make this any harder than it needs to be. You made your own choices so you have to live with them. Now leave," he growls out.

Duncan looks past Owen at me, his eyes gradually losing their light and resolution. 

He gulps and wipes away some snot from his nose with the back of his hand, then attempts to say something but no words come.

As a last farewell, I extract a tiny bit of sympathy from myself and say to him, "You need to love yourself before anyone else can love you."

Then, I trudge to Rayla's front door, my own words taunting me. That piece of advice was for me just as much as it was for him.

I stand there for a long while, waiting for Owen.

He deserves an explanation.

I hear a car start and then drive off, and my stomach drops.

"Aunt Cee?" 

Noah is here? Owen is still here?

I slowly turn around to see a stony-faced Owen carrying a worried Noah.

"Mitchell just left. Noah was waiting in the car. He wanted to see you, and I came here to look for you about to diner too."

It's like I've turned into a slug, all my movements are delayed.

"Is aunt Cee okay?" Noah flails his arms slightly at me, urging me to carry him, but I don't move at all, like chains of guilt are wrapped around my body.

He stops trying to get me to take him into his arms, a crestfallen look on his face. Then he peers up at his father.

"Leave aunt Cee alone, Noah. She's... Just let me carry you, okay?"

I feel a pinch in my chest at his words. 

Does he not want Noah near me anymore? 

I guess that's understandable. I kept such a huge secret. One that would affect a relationship. I haven't given them anything while they've given me so much.

"I'm-"

"Don't say sorry, Cyra. Let's just... Can we talk inside?"

With a parched throat, I croak out a yes and fumble for Rayla's house keys. 

Everyone is asleep now and with all the emotional distress pressing down on me, I can't really think straight.

I let them in and we sit in the living room. It's just then I notice a file in Owen's hand.

He sets Noah on the couch beside him, who looks at me longingly. Then he slides out the documents from the file.

"The agreement."

I snap my eyes up to his. "O-Oh... I..."

"I thought hard about it. And it's selfish of me to hold this from you. I know how much you want to leave here. And I won't stop you. It's not right."

This is what I wanted. 

But I'm helpless against the desolation pouring into me.

"I've signed it already. Your signature is needed here, then the deed will be done."

I look down at the place he's pointing at and my body goes into puppet mode. I grab the pen in his outstretched hand, then shakily lower it...

And sign my name there.

It doesn't feel right. 

But what is right and wrong? How do we differentiate it? How can we tell?

"Daddy, aunt Cee will still come see us right? Even after aunt Cee moves away?" 

Noah's hopeful tone registers in my heart, but not my head, that's why I stay frozen there.

"Noah, can you give aunt Cee and I some space? It's important."

Noah looks very reluctant, but he nods slowly.

I'm so numb I barely notice Owen bringing Noah into the next room, which is the kitchen, and coming back after a while.

"Fireheart." Owen's gentle voice penetrates through the crevices in the walls I've re-erected after what happened outside. "We're going to be okay right?"

He still wants me?

"Owen... I... Don't know. How can you still look at me?"

He doesn't move towards me, doesn't pull me into his arms which have become a safe haven for me. 

But his eyes tell a different story.

He's dying to bring me into his arms, to kiss me like I'm all he knows, but he's afraid he wouldn't let me go once he does that.

"I love you, Cyra." 

Four words is all it takes to return me to the ashes and bring me into the world anew.

But even anew, I'm a blank canvas, and I haven't found what it is that I want.

I thought I wanted to leave, but do I? I'm not so sure anymore and I need time to think.

"Say something."

"Give me some time to figure out what I want, Owen."

"I understand. I don't know the full story with Mitchell, but I hope... I hope you'll tell me one day. And I hope that's the day you will give yourself to me fully."

Even though my breath hitches, I remain unmoving. But then Owen abruptly hauls me up and I crash into his rock hard chest.

I gasp when I'm immersed in the heat of his body. My hands naturally clutch onto the front of his cotton shirt. Barefooted, I barely reach his chin.

"It's so hard to let you leave like this... I feel like you'll never come back and I can barely breathe. And not knowing what exactly you went through... not being able to help you out of your past, it shreds my heart to pieces. I've never felt so useless before, Cyra."

I shake my head. It's not his fault.

"You have to know, fireheart. I will never leave you, not like how that bastard did. So don't give up on us okay? Noah and I need you."

The pressure in my nose increases as I force down a sob. Screwing my eyes shut, I hang onto his shirt and press my cheek to his chest.

He leans his head down and nestles into my neck, his warm breath fanning my skin. He peppers my neck with soft kisses, inhaling my scent just like how I am inhaling his.

It feels like we're memorizing each other because we're afraid this might end.

His gentleness contradicts his strong and sturdy physique, charging straight for my frail heart.

Every action and gesture of his, accentuate his proclamation of love earlier, leaving me afloat a labyrinth of thoughts and emotions.

His hands on my waist trail up to my back, and he pulls me even tighter against his unyielding body. My hands move to his broad back, holding on to him like he's my lifeline.

A lifeline that is too good to be true, that I think it was given to the wrong person and it'll soon be snatched away from me.

"Daddy? Ten minutes is up."

I hear Owen swallowing when Noah announces the set time. 

He tightens his arms around me one last time before releasing me. 

My arms fall limp to my sides as Owen goes over to pick Noah up. Then, he stands a few feet away from me with determination shining in his eyes.

"I'll wait for you, Cyra. We both will."

They gaze at me with so much raw emotion, consuming me with their green eyes which hold a promise. 

A promise that they'll give me all the love they have in their hearts if I choose to accept.

But am I capable of returning the love they deserve?

************

After Owen and Noah left, I mechanically got into Rayla's bed but didn't get a wink of sleep.

"You okay? What time did you come back last night? I didn't hear you. Slept like the dead." 

Rayla passes me some toast as we're seated at her dining table.

I already called up the main staff at the diner and informed them about the change of owners. Shocked was an understatement but I didn't know what else to say to them.

"Slightly after midnight. Yeah I'm fine. Just not enough sleep."

"Hmm okay." She eyes me warily. 

I could never hide from her, but something in my expression stops her from prying.

She sighs after awhile. "I can't believe you're leaving Marysville for good today!"

"I'll visit on weekends."

"Yeah but you'll probably spend time with your two beanies!" 

The razor-sharp knife twists deeper into my gut.

"What about your family? Are you still gonna support them?"

"I didn't cut off all ties with them. I'll just keep my distance. But yes, I'll continue supporting them and pay for my sisters' tuition fees when they go to college."

I don't tell her anything about last night. 

After many hugs of goodbyes, I'm in my car, driving towards Columbus. She'd assumed the reason for my mood was because I was leaving Owen and Noah.

It wasn't completely wrong.

A bitter sting pricks my numb heart when I think about it. 

I don't know what we are anymore.

I expected him to flee to the hills, but he didn't.

You're the one fleeing, Cyra. Somewhere in my brain, an accusatory voice grinds out.

I reach my new apartment in about an hour with my bags in tow. It's actually a studio apartment and it's about ten minutes away from Zanders enterprise.

Sunday passes in a daze and the next thing I know, I'm getting ready for my first day of work.

Owen didn't contact me. I know he wants me to come to him on my own, but I can't.

I'm not brave enough.

Before long, I'm parked outside Zanders Enterprise. 

Since this is Columbus, traffic is more congested than Marysville. But I always keep to time well, so I have thirty minutes before the scheduled meeting time.

Outside my car, I lean my head back to gorge in the sight of the skyscraper, surrounded by other lofty buildings, the bustling city is a tinge overwhelming to me. 

The last time I was in the city was at the bar, and it was when things began with Owen.

It seems like it was such a long time ago.

Striding towards the building, I push open the huge double doors. My heels click on the polished white tiles, echoing throughout the large reception lobby. My eyes roam the area, taking in the suave interior. 

It'd be a dream to work here, and it's about to come true.

I make my way to the reception desk and inform the receptionist that I'm the new hire for the marketing department.

"Hold on, miss."

"Sure." I lift my lips a little and fidget in my heels, my gaze darting around while she searches through her computer.

"Ah, Ms. Jones correct?"

"Yes. That's me."

"You're early. Ms. Denver from HR is supposed to come down, but she's a little busy at the moment and asked if you could head up."

"Oh sure. That's not a problem."

"Please go up to the 37th floor. The elevators are on that side. Once you step out, turn left and you should see her office on the right."

She fires directions rapidly at me and I'm glad I'm a little more clear-headed today so I thank her and head towards the direction she indicated.

I try to minimize the swaying of my hips from wearing heels because the last thing I want to do is attract attention to myself, which I'm doing right now.

Multiple eyes lock onto me. I don't know if it's because they can see how haggard I look, but I block them out and press the button for the elevator. 

When the car reaches, I step in with a few other people in business attires carrying folders and coffee cups.

This would soon be me.

I should be thrilled that I've left Marysville and my old life behind.

But it's the last thing I feel.

I punch the button for the 37th floor and stand at a corner to make myself as unnoticeable as possible. 

Harder to accomplish than said. Everyone scans me as they enter, only when they face forward, I can be at ease. Eventually, I'm left alone as the elevator continues ascending.

As I watch the numbers increase, I wonder if Owen will be coming in today, feeling a twinge of hope and sadness. 

When the doors ding open, I take a deep breath and step out. 

The moment I do, my cellphone vibrates with a call.

It's Owen.

I only hesitate for a brief second before swiping to answer, my heart picking up speed.

"Owen..." His name swooshes out of me.

"Fireheart..." His voice sounds weak and hoarse, like he hasn't drank a sip of water in hours.

I immediately tense up with alertness and grip my phone tighter. "What's wrong? Owen! What's wrong?!" 

I don't care that I'm yelling at this point because I've never heard Owen sound so helpless and so... pained before.

"Noah..." His voice cracks when he mentions his son's name.

And I immediately rush back into the elevator.

************

A/N:
Oh no, what happened to Noah!?!!

Make your guesses!