"Owen? What are you doing here?" Lyra asked, caught off guard when the driver stepped out of the sports car.
"Just passing by. I’m guessing you’re heading to the hospital, and it’s the sa route to my office."
He leaned casually against the car, sunglasses hiding his eyes, and gestured upward.
"See? The sun’s brutal today. I’m afraid you might faint if you keep standing out here."
He grinned as he waited for her answer.
Owen was right. The weather was extrely hot today, and she was already hungry.
Lyra glanced at her watch, she still had ti for lunch.
"Have you eaten? If not, you may join ," she offered politely.
Owen blinked several tis in surprise.
He would have been grateful if she had simply accepted the ride, yet she went further and invited him to lunch instead.
"Of course. Let’s have lunch before we go back to work."
He moved to the passenger side of the car, opened the door for her, and waited for her to get in.
After closing the door carefully, a long smile stretched across his face as he made his way back to the driver’s seat.
Not far behind them, Dante’s car had stopped by the roadside.
The mont he saw soone else approach Lyra before he could, fury surged through him and a curse slipped past his lips.
After the sports car pulled away, Dante decided to return to Ashvale. He needed a proper plan before coming back.
...
The sports car was compact, and they sat close.
But Lyra had to look carefully to notice the faint scar on his neck, partly hidden beneath the pattern of his tattoos.
The sa spot where he’d been injured on that masquerade night.
"I’m struggling to focus on driving right now," Owen said suddenly.
"Pardon?"
"You keep looking at ."
Owen’s tone was serious and a little tense, but he hid his smile, trying not to laugh at her behavior.
She kept examining him, unaware of how obvious she was being.
"Oh..."
Lyra rubbed her neck, feeling heat crawl up her cheeks. It wasn’t proper, and she’d been caught red-handed.
"Sorry, I just..."
Lyra found herself stuck, the words slipping away from her. She couldn’t think of a single excuse to escape.
"You just want to take another look at the evidence from that night, right?" Owen smiled at her.
"It’s too late, Lyra. What can you do if all of it is true?"
His words made Lyra fall silent for a mont. Then she turned to look at him.
"I’m sorry that you beca a victim... all because of ."
Her eyes dropped to her hand, which was fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
Owen gave a small wave of his hand. "No need to apologize. I helped you back then because I chose to, no one forced .
I don’t like bringing up that bitter mory. I struggled a lot back then. Better to just move forward."
Owen spoke seriously, with none of his usual playfulness in his tone and her guilt deepened after hearing him say that.
He took a deep breath and let it out.
"So... anywhere you’d like to have lunch?" he asked with a bright smile, trying to cheer her up.
Lyra chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried to think.
"Um... the hospital cafeteria?"
Owen lowered his sunglasses slightly and narrowed his eyes at her, giving her an unimpressed look before sliding the sunglasses back into place and focusing on the road.
"Seriously? The cafeteria? After all these years, that’s our first lunch?
We were supposed to et after the masquerade night, rember? Shouldn’t our first lunch as friends be celebrated sowhere nicer?"
Lyra crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes right back at him. The guilt she still carried for him was there, but it couldn’t hide the annoyance rising in her.
Owen was demanding, give him an inch, and he would take a mile.
"Didn’t you say you don’t like bringing up bitter mories? Yet here you are bringing up the date that never even happened."
She pursed her lips and added, "I only asked for lunch, not a celebration."
Owen chuckled, and her annoyance spiked at the sound.
"Okay, okay. Just this once."
He lifted his hands in surrender.
"I really did want to go on that date. If I hadn’t been beaten into a coma, I would’ve shown up. After all those years of pain, I just want to finally claim that lunch."
He glanced at her. "You clearly accept as a friend, right? If not, why would you even ride with ?"
"Yes," Lyra replied nonchalantly, though the truth was she had already accepted him as a friend.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Let’s go sowhere nice."
He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers, thinking about where to take her.
"Hmm... I actually know a place. If that’s okay with you?"
Lyra nodded and said, "I’m okay. As long as it’s sowhere close to the hospital. I need to rush back to work, and it shouldn’t be romantic. I don’t want Rowan getting the wrong idea."
Hearing that, Owen’s expression shifted.
"Lyra... are you really getting along with him?"
"Of course. We get along really well."
She smiled at him, but Owen only looked ahead at the road, released a slow breath, saying nothing more.
The rest of the drive passed quietly until they pulled up at the restaurant, exactly the kind of place she had asked for, simple and nothing romantic.
They ate and chatted like friends. When they finished, Owen drove her back to the hospital.
As they pulled into the basent parking lot, Lyra unbuckled her seat belt and turned to him.
"I’ve got sothing of yours to return. Wait here. I’ll be quick."
She hurried upstairs to her office, grabbed an envelope from her drawer, and rushed back down.
Owen was leaning against his car when she returned.
"This," Lyra said, holding out the envelope. "Lucas gave it to . I just want to return it."
"Oh?" Owen took it, his brows lifting.
"You don’t want to keep it as a mory? After all, the woman who once promised to marry after I beca ugly... already married soone else."
He let out a helpless sigh and peeked at her.
Lyra crossed her arms, clearly annoyed.
Owen laughed and lifted his hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay—kidding. No more digging up bitter mories."
He made a gesture as if zipping his mouth shut.
Lyra smiled back at him. Owen always had a way of turning everything into a joke.
"Just co by again. See you."
She waved at him until his car disappeared from sight, then headed back to her post. There was plenty of work piled up, all because of her guest that morning.
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