Nadine

Nadine
Nadine
Ava and I are not close, and that is intentional. I prefer to keep a professional boundary with my employees—strictly work, no familiarity.
“What do you need?” I ask again, hoping she will get straight to the point.
She leans against the doorframe, with her arms crossed, a knowing look on her face. “Nothing. I just saw your hot boyfriend on TV and thought I’d check if you watched the interview too.”
I exhale slowly, already growing impatient. “Okay?” I prompt, waiting for her to get to the point so I can move on with my day.
“I can tell he misses you,” she says, her tone softer now.
“And you haven’t been yourself since, you know…” She trails off, clearly hesitant to finish the sentence.
I straighten in my chair, with a neutral expression. “Ava, I appreciate your concern, but my private life is not up for discussion. I would prefer it if we kept it that way.”
Her face falls slightly, and she quickly nods. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she mutters before turning on her heel and leaving my office.
As soon as she’s gone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
The rest of the workday passes in a blur. We secure two major deals to supply flowers for high-profile events, and orders keep flooding in.
I’ve also noticed a pattern—many of these contracts come from clients who claim they were personally recommended by an anonymous source.
I don’t know who this person is, but I wish I could thank them in person.
By the time we wrap up for the day, I’m more than ready to leave. I’ve adjusted my schedule to ensure I always pick up Shawn on time and then head home to finish any pending work.
As I gather my things, the sky darkens, and the air shifts. The scent of rain lingers, with a warning of the approaching storm.
I hurry, packing my bag as quickly as possible, hoping to beat the downpour.
Just before I step outside, I realize I should grab an umbrella, so I quickly hurry back into the office and grab it.
As soon as I step out with the umbrella, I see the rain has started. It’s not heavy, but enough to get you wet if you’re not careful.
I stop in my tracks when I notice a figure standing in the rain, he looks familiar. His eyes meet mine, and my heart skips a beat.
“Logan…” I breathe his name, barely believing what I’m seeing.
His face snaps up when he hears me, and I notice the change instantly. He’s completely drenched, his usual composed, put-together self is gone.
He looks nothing like the confident man I saw earlier today, or the one on TV just moments ago.
His hair is plastered to his forehead, and he’s shivering slightly from the rain. To put it simply—he looks defeated.
He takes a slow step forward, his voice hoarse. “I was wrong, Nadine. About everything.”
I take in a sharp breath and grip the umbrella tightly, fighting the urge to step back.
“What the hell are you doing out here, Logan? You’ll get sick standing in the rain like this.”
He lets out a humorless chuckle, looking lost, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as me.
“Maybe I deserve that,” he says quietly.
My pulse quickens, and I feel the sting of old emotions bubbling up.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to hear me out.” he continues I feel a tightening in my chest as I stand there.
I hate this. I hate how he can still pull me in so easily. I want to turn away, to tell him it’s too late, but I can’t.
Don’t fall for it. Don’t let him do this to you again.
“You had your chance to explain,” I say, my voice shaking slightly. “You had months, Logan. And now you’re standing out here in the rain acting like you suddenly care?”
His jaw clenches, and for the first time, I see something I’ve never expected in his eyes—pain.
Real, raw pain that hits me harder than I want to admit. I stand frozen, not sure if I’m supposed to be angry or… something else entirely.
I can feel his words: each one slowly chipping away at the walls I’ve built around myself.
"I know I don’t deserve another chance," he says, with vulnerability. "But I need you to know that I see it now. I see everything I did to you, to us, and I hate myself for it."
My heart tightens in my chest at the honesty in his voice. It’s too much to bear. I swallow hard, trying to fight back the wave of emotions threatening to drown me. I shake my head, I don't want to go down this road again.
"I don’t want to do this," I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He didn’t back away though. Instead, he takes another step closer, and his presence overwhelms me, even in the freezing rain.
"Please," he pleads. "I’m sorry for treating you like something to control instead of something to love."
I want to stay angry, to remind him of every tear I’ve shed because of him, but the way he’s looking at me, with such raw pain and regret in his eyes, it breaks me.
He’s not the man I thought he was. Or maybe he never was. Maybe I was just too blind to see it.
"You don’t get to just say sorry and expect things to change," I snap, but my voice cracks, and I hate how weak it sounds. "You don’t get to act like the victim now."
"I know," he says quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. "I have no right to ask for anything. But I need you to know... I miss you. Every damn day. I miss you."
A sharp pain stabs my chest, and I fight the urge to collapse.
My hands are shaking, and my throat feels tight, but I won’t let him see me break. I clench my fists, taking steady breaths as I try to push the pain away.
I know I should walk away. I should leave him standing there in the rain.
I slowly look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Tears threaten to slip from my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. Not after everything.
I’ve carried this pain for so long, the scars he left on my heart, and now, just when I’ve decided to move on, he’s here—standing in front of me with his emotions raw, unguarded, and vulnerable.
He looks at me like I’m the center of his world like I’m everything to him.
But I can’t just run into his arms because he says he’s sorry. Not after everything he’s done.
"I know I don’t deserve another chance," he says, with desperation. "But I beg of you, remember the love we once shared. Tell me what I can do to make it right."
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
But as I stare at the man who once broke my heart—the one who made me feel replaceable, the one who made me feel like I didn’t matter.
I can’t ignore the hurt. I wanted to tell him everything, to let him feel every ounce of pain he caused, but the words didn’t come.
I gather all the strength I have left, my throat tight as I try to speak. My heart races and my chest feels like it’s about to explode.
But what I say next takes him by surprise. His eyes widen in shock, and he stumbles back like my words have hit him harder than anything else.
Without another word, I turn and walk to my car. I open the door and slide inside, trying to escape the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
But as soon as I’m in the safety of my car, the dam I’ve kept locked inside bursts open.
My body shakes uncontrollably as the sobs tear through me, heart-wrenching and full of pain.
This is too much for me. I can’t hold it in any longer. I bury my face in my hands, the tears falling like a flood, and I let the hurt take over.