Nadine

Nadine
Nadine
Logan’s father steps forward, his eyes locked on mine. The rest of the family watches in silence, their faces filled with curiosity and concern.
Then, he does something unexpected.
He opens his arms, motioning for me to step forward.
For a brief moment, I hesitate. But the exhaustion, the guilt, the fear—all of it crashes over me at once. I need that hug more than anything. Without thinking twice, I rushed into his embrace.
The tears I’ve been holding back since I got the call finally break free, spilling down my face like a flood. My body shakes as sobs wrack through me.
"It’s okay, Nadine. I’ve got your back," he whispers, his voice steady and reassuring. "I know you’ve been through a lot."
I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop shaking. But he holds me, gently rubbing my back.
"Let it all out, girl," he says.
One by one, the rest of the family follows, wrapping me in the warmth of their support. Each hug strengthens me, grounding me when I feel like I might fall apart.
After a moment, I wipe my face and take a deep breath.
"I should see the doctor," I finally say, breaking the heavy silence around us.
"Okay, Nad," Lucas responds, giving me a small nod.
I make my way to the doctor’s office, trying to steady myself. The meeting is brief—just a few papers to sign and consent forms for Logan’s surgery. My hands tremble as I hold the pen.
Why am I the one signing these? His entire family is here.
Something is going on that I don’t understand.
Before I can dwell on it, the sound of wheels against the floor catches my attention.
I step out just in time to see Logan being wheeled toward the operating room.
My breath catches in my throat.
The man who has always been so strong, so unbreakable, now lies motionless on that hospital bed, hooked up to wires and machines.
He looks so fragile. So unlike himself.
My chest tightens as panic starts to rise.
The doctor speaks, explaining medical terms and procedures, but none of it registers. I can’t focus. All I care about is Logan waking up. Being okay. Coming back to us.
We wait.
Minutes turn into hours. The air in the corridor is thick with tension. Every second feels unbearable.
But I know I can’t leave. Not until I heard that he made it through.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the doctor steps out.
We all turn to him at once, holding our breath, waiting for the words that could change everything.
My heart pounds violently in my chest as I try to focus on the doctor’s words.
"We've done our best," he says, his voice calm but firm. "Now, we wait for him to come out of the coma."
Oh, God.
My breath catches, but I force myself to stay strong. Logan is too stubborn to give up without a fight. If there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that he never backs down. That thought alone gives me the strength to keep going.
"Can I see him?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor nods. "Of course. But keep it brief."
"Thank you," I murmur before stepping inside his room.
The moment I see him, my knees almost buckle.
He looks just as fragile as before—pale, unmoving, tubes and wires surrounding him. The steady beep of the heart monitor is the only sign that he’s still here with me.
I swallow the lump in my throat and move a chair closer to his bedside. Slowly, I reach for his hand, bringing it to my lips.
A soft kiss. A silent plea.
The pain of seeing him like this is unbearable. My eyes shut tightly, but it doesn’t stop the tears from falling.
"Please, Logan," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Fight your way back to us. More than anything, I need you. Shawn needs you. Remember that, Logan. Please, come back to us."
The tears fall faster, soaking his hand as I squeeze it gently. "I promise I’ll be good. I won’t shut you out again. I won’t push you away because of Cara—I know now that I was wrong. She means nothing to you. I see that now."
A sob escapes my lips as I clutch his hand tighter.
"I promise I’ll never use Hardin to make you jealous. It will just be me and you, Logan. No more games. No more walls between us."
I press my forehead against our joined hands, my body trembling.
"Please," I whisper again, my voice cracking under the weight of my pain. "Fight your way back to us."
And then, I wait—praying, hoping, and clinging to the man who still holds my heart.
A light taps on my back pulls me from my thoughts. My body aches as I slowly lift my head.
How long have I been here?
Blinking away the heaviness in my eyes, I look up to see Florence standing beside me.
"It's late," she says gently. "Don’t you think you should go home? I’ll stay and watch over him."
I shake my head. "No, ma. I’ll stay here until he wakes up."
She gives me a knowing look. "My child, you’re exhausted. You need to rest, okay? I believe in miracles, and I know he’ll be awake before you come back tomorrow."
I hold onto the faith in her voice, clinging to that hope like a lifeline.
"Come here," she says, reaching for my hand to help me stand.
Before I move, I lean down, pressing a soft kiss on Logan’s forehead. My fingers trace the familiar lines of his face, memorizing every feature as if I’ll never see him like this again.
With a heavy heart, I finally make my way out.
I step outside and realize just how late it is. I didn’t even notice that I had fallen asleep beside his bed.
The drive back to my penthouse is quiet, the streets nearly empty. My thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions, exhaustion settling deep into my bones.
As soon as I park, I reach for the door handle, but before I can step out, I feel someone wrap their arms around me from behind.
Jeez!
"What the f—" I start, but then I catch the familiar scent of his cologne.
"Hardin?" I breathe out, my body relaxing slightly.
"Nad, you scared the hell out of me!" he exclaims, pulling away just enough to look at me. "You weren’t answering your phone! Where have you been?"
I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Calm down, Hardin. Let’s go inside, and I’ll explain everything."
He glares at me. "You better have a damn good reason for scaring the shit out of me like that."
I do.
The realization seems to hit him as he finally takes in my face—my red, puffy eyes, the exhaustion written all over me.
"Have you been crying?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.
The moment he says it, the tears come rushing back. My throat tightens as I try to speak between sobs.
"Hardin, I can’t help it… Logan—he was in an accident."
His expression shifts instantly. Without hesitation, he pulls me into a tight hug, his warmth wrapping around me like a shield.
"Shh, Nadine," he murmurs. "He’ll be fine."
"You think so?" I look up at him, searching for reassurance. "You need to see him, Hardin. He looks like… like a vegetable. Like there’s no life left in him."
Hardin gently cups my face, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. "Nad, Logan is strong. He’ll fight his way back. You just have to believe in him."
I nod, though the fear in my chest refuses to ease.
"Okay," he says, giving me a small smile. "Now, wipe your tears. I’ll order Chinese. You need to eat.”
Soon, the delivery guy arrives, and Hardin and I settle down to eat. I barely taste the food, my mind still consumed by Logan and everything that’s happened. Eventually, I drag myself to my room, exhaustion pressing down on me.
A hot bath soothes my aching muscles, and as soon as I hit the bed, sleep takes over. I don’t fight it. I don’t overthink. I just let go.
For the first time in a long while, I slept deeply. My dreams are filled with moments of happiness—Logan, Shawn, and me, together as a family.
The next morning, I jolt awake, sitting up so fast that my heart pounds in my chest.
I slept too long. No one woke me up.
Panic grips me as I grab my phone. No missed calls. No messages.
I throw off the covers and rush to the bathroom, taking the quickest shower possible. There's no time for food—I need to get to the hospital.
I race out of the house, barely registering my surroundings as I speed down the street. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly, my mind already at the hospital before my body gets there.
By some miracle, I arrive in one piece, parking in a hurry before rushing toward the entrance.
The receptionist flashes me a warm smile, but I barely acknowledge it. I just wave absently before pushing forward, my heart hammering against my ribcage.
I fling open the door to Logan’s room—
And freeze.
My jaw drops.
No.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, my voice barely escaping my lips.
This doesn’t look good.