Logan

Logan
Logan
It’s been a month of torture. A month of pretending that I’m fine when, in reality, I’m anything but.
Every time I see Nadine, she looks calm—composed—while my nerves are all over the place.
It’s frustrating. How does she do it? How does she stand so close to me without breaking, when I can barely keep myself together?
Most days, I fight the urge to grab her, pull her into my arms, and kiss her until she forgets every ounce of pain I ever caused her.
But I know that won’t fix anything. We both need to heal—separately—before we can even think about anything else.
I’ve been going to therapy.
At first, I thought it was pointless, just another thing to check off the list.
But now… I can’t deny that it’s helping. It’s forcing me to face my mistakes, to see the damage I’ve done.
And one thing is clear—I can’t insert myself back into her life just because I miss her. She deserves to be happy, even if it’s without me.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Until Shawn’s innocent voice shatters my entire world.
“Look, that man looks a lot like Hardin!”
My body stiffens. My pulse slows, then picks up like a ticking bomb.
Hardin? Who the fuck is Hardin?
I turn to look at Nadine, and that’s when I see it. The way her breath catches. The way her face flushes—pink creeping up her cheeks, down her neck. She stares in the direction Shawn is pointing, and I swear, my chest tightens like a goddamn vice.
Then she exhales softly and turns to our son, with a small smile. “That’s not Hardin, sweetheart. He’s out of the country right now.”
Right now?
I don’t even realize I’m clenching my fists until my nails dig into my palms. I force myself to breathe, to stay composed, but then Shawn says the one thing that knocks the air out of my lungs.
“I like Hardin because he makes you smile a lot.”
Oh, my fucking God.
I feel the world tilt beneath me.
Someone else is making Nadine smile. And it’s not me.
I swallow hard, forcing my expression to remain neutral. I can’t let her see how much this rattles me. I don’t want to push her or make her feel pressured.
But my entire body betrays me.
Despite the cool air, sweat gathers at the back of my neck, dampening my palms. My chest feels too tight like my suit is suddenly suffocating me.
I move my hand to my tie, loosening it slightly.
I need to breathe.
I need to not lose my fucking mind.
But all I can think about is one thing—
Who the hell is Hardin?
“It’s not Hardin. Let’s go, Shawn,” Nadine says quickly, holding his hand as if to move on from the conversation.
Her voice is steady, controlled—but I know better. That small pause, the way she grips Shawn’s hand just a little tighter, tells me she’s trying to brush past it before I ask more questions.
Then she turns back, noticing I haven’t moved. “Aren’t you coming?”
I snap out of my daze and flash her a smile—the kind I know hides everything underneath. “Of course.”
I step forward, and before I even realize it, I’m holding Shawn’s other hand. Nadine on one side, me on the other, our son walking between us.
Just like a real family.
My heart tightens painfully in my chest.
This is how it should be. The three of us, together. But reality is different, and I have no one to blame but myself.
We walk in silence, each lost in thought. I know we need to talk—talk. About the ring, about the note that was sent, about everything that happened while she was at Daniel’s place. There are too many things left unsaid, and it hangs between us like an invisible barrier.
Soon, we meet with Shawn’s teacher, exchanging polite words before saying goodbye. And just like that, the moment ends.
Now, Nadine and I are walking side by side, heading towards her car.
I take a moment to look at her.
There’s something different about her—something radiant. Confidence? Freedom? Whatever it is, it makes her glow in a way that catches every passing glance. I can’t count the number of heads that turn in her direction.
And you know what? I like it.
She’s living her life. She bought a car, a damn penthouse, and she’s doing well. That should make me happy. And it does.
We reach her car, and without thinking, I step forward and open the door for her.
She pauses.
Her eyes widened slightly, a flash of surprise on her face as if she didn’t quite believe what she just saw.
It’s a small gesture. Nothing grand. But the way she looks at me makes my chest tighten all over again.
“…Thank you,” she mutters softly, still watching me, almost unsure if I’m real or not.
For a second, just a brief second, it feels like the wall between us isn’t so high.
She gets into the car, and with my hand still resting on the door handle, I gently push it shut. But I haven't moved away just yet.
She notices.
Slowly, she rolls down the window, with an unreadable expression. “Anything?” she asks, her tone edged with impatience or maybe curiosity.
I take a breath. “I just wanted to say… thank you.”
Her brows pull together. “For what, Logan?”
“For taking care of our son. You’re doing a great job.”
For a moment, she says nothing. Then, a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. It’s subtle, barely there, but I see it. And damn it, my heart skips a beat.
“He’s my son, Logan. What do you expect?” she says, with a touch of arrogance in her voice. But it’s not her words that undo me—it’s the way she says my name.
Like she used to. Like it still belongs to her.
Heat pools low in my stomach, and I curse myself for reacting to her so easily—even after six months apart.
I clear my throat, as I force myself to step back. “Have a nice day,” I say, bowing my head slightly.
She hesitates for a second, then nods. “Thanks. You too.”
The window rolls up, and I watch as she pulls out of the parking lot, disappearing down the street.
I stay there for a moment, hands in my pockets, staring after her.
Because for the first time in a long time, I feel something I haven’t felt before.
Hope.
As soon as Nadine’s car disappears, I exhale sharply and turn back toward my own.
My mind is racing, my emotions all over the place, and the last thing I need is Asher’s unsolicited comments.
“Just shut up,” I snap as I open the car door.
Asher raises his hands in defense. “What? Why are you snapping at me when I haven’t even said anything yet?”
“Oh, please,” I roll my eyes, sliding into the driver’s seat. “I know you. You probably have a thousand things to say right now.”
“I was just about to say—”
“Asher, for fuck’s sake, can you just shut up?” I groan, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.
He leans back, studying me. Then, to my surprise, he smirks. “You’re making progress, Logan. See? That’s all I was about to say. Was that so bad?”
I sigh, running a hand down my face. “No… and thanks. Can I just have some peace in my damn car?”
I know I shouldn’t be taking my frustration out on him, but the thought of Nadine smiling because of another man, Hardin, twists something deep inside me. It’s like a knife slowly turning in my gut.
I inhale deeply, trying to loosen the grip of jealousy clenching my chest. I want to be better—not just for Nadine but for everyone around me.
My voice is barely above a whisper when I speak again. “I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”
Asher looks momentarily surprised, but he quickly shrugs it off. “It’s okay, Logan. But… what happened back there?”
I want to tell him.
I want to admit how much it’s killing me that someone else is making Nadine smile the way I used to. But the words feel foreign. Too raw.
“Nothing,” I mutter instead. Then, clenching my jaw, I admit, “I just want my woman back.”
Asher nods, with a more serious look. “And you will get her back, my friend. Trust me, you’re making progress.”
I glance at him, searching his face for any hint of doubt. “You think so?”
He nods. “I know so.”
A slow breath leaves my lips. “Thanks, man. For always having my back.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
I start the car, shifting gears. “Let’s get out of here. I’m not heading to the office just yet. I have an interview to attend.”
Asher arches a brow. “The one airing across the state?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, gripping the wheel. “I didn’t want to do it, but I need to clear the air about some of the shit being said about me.”
Asher claps a hand on my shoulder. “Then let’s go give them something worth talking about.”
With that, we drive off toward the TNV station. My mind refuses to give up on Nadine, and I hope this interview will bring a sense of life to my already chaotic life.