The Exes and The Architect Chapter 2

My encounter with Owen Maxwell was purely accidental—or so I thought at the time.

I had just broken up with Dean. Though I’d always known the end was coming, I’m sentimental, and I felt hollowed out. To shake the feeling, I flew to the American West—to the vast, remote open spaces of Montana. That’s where I ran into Owen.

I’d actually seen Owen once before.

When the nominal patriarch of the Reed family—my "father"—died, everyone was summoned back for the will reading. Even as the illegitimate daughter, the law protected my rights, and Owen was the estate lawyer assigned to the case.

I ended up with three million dollars and a modest condo. In the grand scheme of the Reed family's wealth, it was less than pocket change, a paltry sum. My half-siblings and other illegitimate relations received much more. I knew they’d done it deliberately—they hated me the most because my mother had nearly succeeded in securing a permanent place in the family. But it didn't matter. The money was enough for me to live on simply.

At the time, Owen, in his formal suit, had clinically asked if I required legal counsel for any further action.

I had declined.

We hadn't seen each other since.

Yet here we were, meeting again amidst the breathtaking scenery of Big Sky Country.

Owen explained that his wallet and ID had been stolen. He said I was the only familiar face he knew in the area and asked if I'd let him tag along. I was traveling alone, and traveling with a lawyer felt reasonably safe. I agreed.

Owen was usually reserved, almost cold, but he was incredibly considerate. He was also endlessly knowledgeable; no matter what topic I brought up, he could keep the conversation flowing. Traveling with him was unexpectedly joyful.

He taught me to ride, and we galloped across the vast Montana plains. With the entire sky above us, and the ground flying beneath the horse's hooves, I felt a deep sense of release. It was in that moment I finally shed the burden of my first two decades of misery and misfortune.

I'm a graphic novelist. I turned my Montana experience into a webcomic, and it blew up overnight. The sudden success of my career finally eclipsed the failure of my love life.

After we returned to the city, Owen and I kept in touch.

We talked about everything under the sun, and sometimes I was stunned by our intellectual and emotional synchronicity. We were so effortlessly compatible it felt like we'd known each other forever.

We started planning more trips together.

One night, in a small, rustic cabin in the Pacific Northwest, we had a few drinks. The moon hung bright and low in the sky.

I smiled and turned to him. "Do you like me?"

Owen gave me a faint smile in return. "Took you long enough to notice."

"I was only semi-sure. But I felt like you did."

"No need to be unsure. I’ve liked you for a long time now."

Owen’s eyes were bright, like starlight on a crisp night. He simply held my gaze.

He later confessed that he was terrified in that moment, convinced I was about to reject him.

I burst out laughing.

"Well, I like you, too, then."

Getting together with Owen felt entirely natural, as if it had been destined.

Once we were dating, Owen encouraged me to try things I’d always been afraid of. He took me to see the penguins in Antarctica, and we watched a volcano erupt in Hawaii. We kissed passionately on the deck of a cruise ship in a gale-force wind.

"Harper, life is passionate. I want you to always be radiant."

Meeting Owen filled the empty spaces and quiet loneliness that had shadowed me for years.

When he proposed, I didn't hesitate for a second.