Sewn-up Hearts | Grey's Anatomy

28. | You Are The Reason

There goes my heart beating
'Cause you are the reason
I'm losing my sleep
Please come back now
There goes my mind racing
And you are the reason
That I'm still breathing
I'm hopeless now
"You Are The Reason" -Calum Scott

Owen sat at the barstool and ordered a drink.

Tapping his fingers nervously on the counter, he glanced at the clock. It was 6:00, and he should have been at the airport by now. But he took his shot and drank it.

He didn't know at this point whether he was mad at Teddy, or grateful. He didn't have the guts to buy himself a plane ticket, yet he didn't know if he could get on the plane. If he made it, would he even be able to go to the hospital?

Three main scenarios ran in his head.

The first one was the bad case: she'd scream at him, she'd yell at him for being there, and she'd kick him out of the hospital. He could imagine her eyes blazing in fury as she stood there heartbroken, and telling him to leave because he had already ruined her. The tears in her eyes were enough to break him. The screams sounded louder than gunshots. As his imagination shot farther, he felt himself thinking of each scenario becoming worse and worse.

"I left so I didn't have to see your face anymore because clearly you were too stubborn to realize that you're just a big mistake. Get out!"

"But-"

"Get out!"

"Cristina just-"

"No, you think I left just so you could chase me down like you did to Teddy? Why are you such a oblivious ass? I can't believe you thought I'd want to see you after I left!"

What if that was how it would be? That would make it worse because then he thought of it and denied it. Owen rubbed his temples and traced the edge of his shot glass with his thumb. The nostalgia of scotch hung in his mouth and he waved for another one.

"Single malt please."

As the bartender slid it over to him, he looked at it and realized he had drained it like his life depended on it.

The second scenario was worse: she would pretend he was a stranger. Like everything he did that he thought had hurt her, hurt himself, was all nothing. That she'd treat him more professionally than she did when she was his doctor, and she wouldn't care of him anymore. He couldn't even say that he made a mistake because none of it mattered to her. Did any of it matter.

He had to matter.

He had to believe it.

Why else would she leave the morning after without saying goodbye. It was a load of bullshit if she said it was just a coincidence. He ached for her every day, he passed out because he couldn't eat with the pit in his stomach. Owen held on to the fact that their love had to be stronger than this.

But what if it was all a hallucination. What if he saw something that was never there. The way he kissed her couldn't have been just a hallucination, her moans couldn't have been just for sex. The way she looked at him with darker eyes than before couldn't have been a fling or just a change of lighting because he refused to believe otherwise.

She had sex with him too. It took two to make love, as cheesy as he knew it sounded. She kissed him just as much as he kissed her. She slept in the on-call room with him.

Then there was a third scenario, where he swore he'd barf again if he continued thinking about it. What if she had moved on?

What if, he opened the door of her office and she was leaned over, and a person was—