Accepting Owen (Emilia's Perspective)

Chapter Sixteen

We had arrived at Half Moon Cay and the ship was docked. We didnt have any plans, but decided to skip breakfast and get food on the beach. I decided to take a shower before we headed off the boat.

Owen's phone rang as I was getting dressed in the bathroom. "Hel-lo?" He answered, seeming confused. "Jess, I-"

I leaned closer to see if I could hear more. Did he say Jess?

"What? Wait, wait, how? No, obviously. I just meant... well... fuck. How long have you- Okay. Okay. Fuck. Well what do you plan to do? I'm literally on a cruise ship right now on my honeymoon, there's no way. No, it's not like that. Jess, stop."

I covered my mouth. He was arguing with another girl on the phone!

"Just tell me- FUCK- please don't cry. I can't really talk right now. I'll call you back in a couple of days. I mean, I'll be home in a couple of days. Just don't do anything until I get back. Please?"

He was trying to hide it from me, saying he couldn't talk. I shook my head as pain washed over me like the waves lapping up against the side of the ship. My stomach was churning. Was I supposed to pretend I didn't know for the rest of the trip?

"I promise I'm not ghosting you. I'll be there. Just wait until I get home."

I squeezed my eyes closed to keep the tears from falling. Of course everything had seemed like a fairy tale. It was too good to be true. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. I started to shut the bathroom door, but Owen was already coming in. "Don't talk to me right now," I said through gritted teeth, hoping I could avoid throwing up.

"Emilia," he said carefully, stress evident and heavy in his voice. "You're going to want to hear what I have to say."

"I don't want to hear anything from you right now. You are my husband. You are supposed to be mine. I'm not sharing you with someone else. I don't care."

"Darling, you don't have to share me-" He reached for me, but I pushed him away.

"Don't- don't touch me. I have to-" I couldn't breathe. Fuck! What's happening to me? I grabbed my wallet and left the suite. I landed in a seat at the bar, ordering a shot of whiskey and trying to calm my racing heart. When I drank the shot, for a moment, I was able to breathe again. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Another, please," I asked the bartender when the pressure in my lungs returned.

"Darling, please, listen to me," Owen begged, standing between me and the next seat over.

I felt sweat starting to form all over my body. "I can't even breathe. Why? I don't understand, Owen. Why would you do this to me?"

"I'm not cheating on you." He looked exasperated and worried at the same time.

"Then who the fuck is Jess?" I shouted back

"Emie, you're freaking out. I think we should go back to our room to talk about this."

I put my hand on my chest. "I can't. I'm not moving."

The bartender placed the shot in front of me with wide eyes, but tried to avoid looking at me so I wouldn't notice.

I drank it quickly before turning back to Owen. "So, tell me then." I wasn't sure I wanted to hear it, but I felt like I had to.

"This girl that I was with, before I met you- that's who Jess is." He looked nervous, or maybe he was just hiding something. My mind was working so hard to figure out how to get off the damn boat and away from him I couldn't quite read his expression. He looked at the ceiling before continuing, "She called to tell me she's pregnant."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, wrapping a fist in the thin fabric I'd draped around my shoulders. I was breathing very quickly but I felt like I wasn't getting any oxygen.

"Hey, breathe. You're hyperventilating. You need to take a deep breath. Look at me."

I groaned, trying to force air into my lungs. I met his eyes.

"It's okay. Let's go back to our room," Owen said softly, like you might to a scared child.

"No, no, no. I don't-"

"Just let me help you." His eyes held mine, and I think he meant to be reassuring but it just made me feel uncomfortable.

"I don't want this," I cried.

"Come on." He pulled me off the stool and helped me back to our room, which luckily was only a few feet from the bar. He pulled my chin up so I had no choice but to look into his worried eyes. "Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth. Slow it down."

I did as he instructed, until the pressure in my chest waned. "How long ago were you with her?" I asked when I no longer felt like I was drowning.

He sighed. "Like, two months ago."

"So, your ex-girlfriend, who you were with two months ago, called during our honeymoon to tell you she's pregnant?" My voice was harsher than I meant it to be. My emotions were so raw and clawing at me.

"She's not my ex. I never dated her."

"Oh great. So just some hook-up." I closed my eyes, rubbing my teeth with my tongue. "You told her to wait until you get home. Do you plan on trying to date her?"

Shock flashed across his face. "What? I am married to you. That hasn't changed because of a phone call-"

"It does change things, though. Because I trusted you. I waited my entire life to have sex, so my first time could be with you, and two months ago you were hooking up with randoms and apparently not in a safe way because now you're going to be a father to some other woman's child." I was unraveling again. I was so upset it was taking all of my energy not to fall on the floor and weep.

"I had no idea we were going to be getting married. The condom must've broken. I understand that you're upset, and I might even understand why, but I'm not sure what it is you're trying to say. You what? Don't want to be married to me now?"