3: 3
Narelle's voice pulled me back to the present.
"Owen! Are you really going to clear this whole plot and plant orchids instead?"
Owen had a shovel in his hands, and one load at a time he was tearing up the flowers he'd once planted himself.
Just like our love.
Petals came up tangled with dirt, the mud and the grime smearing together, uglier under the thin drizzle.
"Plant them. Whatever you like, we'll plant it."
The memory tore into me out of nowhere, and my nose stung.
He'd once said the same thing to me.
That year, Narelle was recovering from an illness in my dorm. She'd lost both her parents, and I couldn't bring myself to send her away.
I worked part-time jobs day and night until I'd finally paid off every cent she owed Owen.
The day I came back to the room, she suddenly threw her arms around me and sobbed.
"Bella, you're my savior, and so is Owen. The one thing I'll never regret in this life is meeting the two of you."
"If only I could stay by your side forever…"
I didn't read anything into it. I chalked it up to the emotional swings after her abortion, and I held her and said softly, "It's okay. It'll all pass."
That night she started crying beside me out of nowhere. When I asked what was wrong, she said the person she liked had turned her down.
I couldn't understand how she'd fallen for someone new so soon.
But I respected her.
Looking back now, the one who turned her down was Owen.
That night, she climbed onto the roof, ready to jump…
Most of the details up there I can't remember.
I only remember telling her not to throw her life away for a man who wasn't worth it, and the bitter little laugh she gave.
"If one day the man beside you needed you to give up your life to save him, would you do it?"
I said nothing.
Owen and I weren't at the point of living or dying for each other.
Owen kept his face blank, but I could feel the flicker of disappointment in him beside me.
We kept talking her down as we edged closer, and then, out of nowhere, her foot slipped and she fell backward.
In that split second she grabbed my sleeve, and the two of us went over almost at once.
My arm screamed with pain, but neither of us dropped. Owen had me in one hand and Narelle in the other.
His jaw was clenched, his lips gone white, the veins standing up on his hands.
"I've got you both!"
It was already more than he could hold, but Owen still didn't let go.
Narelle smiled. "Don't waste your strength. You two take care of each other."
As if she'd lost any will to live, she pried her hand out of Owen's grip and dropped straight down…
Thank God the safety cushion did its job.
She didn't die.
Owen was commended. I got an official reprimand.
Housing an outsider in the dorms was a serious violation of school rules.
But our story spread far and wide all the same.
To this day.
Narelle noticed me.
"Bella! I'm so sorry, digging up your favorite flowers. You won't hold it against me, will you?"
Owen looked up at me too. "What are you doing here…?"
Just then, the dean who'd promised us this plot of land for our flowers all those years ago suddenly appeared.
He was as kind as ever. "Well? What brings you two back here?"
"Have the years treated you well? I heard you're married. Any little ones yet?"
My hand went to my stomach without thinking…
Narelle looped her arm through Owen's and spoke up before either of us could. "Sorry, they're about to get divorced. Owen's my husband now."
Owen cared more about face than anything. He pushed Narelle's hand off and laughed awkwardly.
"Dean, Bella and I just aren't right for each other…"
The smile froze on the dean's face, and he gave a helpless shake of his head.
He patted my shoulder and offered me some encouragement. "Bella, let me leave you with this: keep the roots in the ground, and the east wind returns year after year. I hope you make it through this low point in your life."
He excused himself, saying he had a meeting, and walked off alone.
Narelle pointed after him, finally breaking completely. "Owen, what is he trying to say?!"
I didn't want to get tangled up with them, so I left right behind him.
