Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed novel Chapter 330

The trio stepped out of the restaurant into the crisp evening air.

"Man, you're like a celeb, Owen. Had everyone huddling around you like you're the lead singer of a band or something."

"Celeb?"

"Yeah, you know, like a pop idol."

Owen chuckled, shaking his head. "It's all about the perks, isn't it? No idol business there."

Leda sniffed the air subtly. "Have you been drinking? You didn't drive, did you?"

"Just a bit. No, I didn't drive."

"Perfect, hop in. I'll drop you and Anne off."

Leda's car couldn't quite make it down the narrow lane, so Roseanne and Owen decided to walk the rest of the way.

Under a sky scattered with stars, a gentle breeze carried the occasional meow from a distant alley cat.

Owen stumbled over a discarded fast food wrapper, his balance off from the drinks.

"You okay?"

"Sorry, ended up having a couple more than I should have."

Trying not to let the smell of alcohol reach her, Owen consciously maintained a gap between them.

His apology sounded incredibly sincere, making Roseanne feel a bit dazed.

In the past, Murray often came home drunk, never once thinking it something worth an apology.

It dawned on her then, how different people could be.

She used to think all men were like Murray, Cliff, or York; swimming in a sea of bright lights and cocktails, living life in a blur of work and play.

Or like Norris, gentle and steady, the embodiment of an ordinary life.

But then there was Owen—

Surrounded by admirers, yet humble and reserved.

It was a revelation to her that excellence didn't equate to indulgence, and success didn't have to breed arrogance.

"So—"

He paused, looking at her with a soft smile. "Let's just say it's half and half."

Roseanne couldn't help but smile back.

"You've got a knack for balancing the good with the bad, huh? An even split between joy and obligation."

"Yeah," Owen nodded, "I hope you can find that balance too."

Roseanne paused, a question on the tip of her tongue, but they had already reached her front door.

Their conversation flowed smoothly all the way home.

"Goodnight, Owen."

"See you tomorrow."

That night, as Roseanne lay in bed, she found herself dwelling on Owen's words and demeanor—strong, determined, and composed.

Was it reaching such heights that gave him such strength of heart?