Logan

Logan
Logan
Everything around me feels unbearably heavy.
I try to lift my hand, just a little, to touch the face of the person holding me. I can feel warm tears landing on my skin, soaking into my hand, making my chest tighten painfully.
The voice… It sounds like Nadine.
But that can’t be right. Nadine has built walls around her heart—walls so high that even when I thought we were making progress, she shut me out. The last time I called her, her response was cold, distant… infuriating.
Still, the way this person is crying—it feels real.
I need to open my eyes. I need to let them know I’m here, that I’m okay. But my eyelids are so damn heavy like they’re glued shut. I fight against the exhaustion pulling me under.
Then, just when I no longer feel the warmth of that hand on me, something inside me pushes harder. I can’t let them leave.
With effort, I stop forcing it. I let my body relax and let the movement come naturally. And finally—finally—my eyes crack open.
A loud, piercing ring explodes in my head the second I do. The pain is so sharp, so sudden, that I clutch my head instinctively as if pressing against it will somehow make it stop.
I blink several times, trying to adjust, trying to make sense of where I am. My vision is blurry at first, but then I start to recognize the sterile white walls, the machines, and the quiet hum of medical equipment.
A soft bed beneath me—but not the one in my room.
I glance down and see tubes connected to my hand, IV drips, and monitors tracking my vitals. That’s when it hits me.
I’m in a hospital.
I let my head fall back against the pillow, exhaling slowly. My mind feels blank like someone has erased chunks of my memory.
How did I get here?
I try to piece it together, but the answers feel just out of reach.
Gradually, the pieces start falling into place. The fog in my mind lifts, and everything begins to make sense.
I remember now.
I had called Nadine. I had been desperate to reach her, to tell her everything face-to-face. But her response… it cut deep. It made my blood boil.
Anger clouded my judgment. I stormed into the garage, got into my car, and sped off, my only thought being to get to her—no matter what.
But I wasn’t paying attention.
I didn’t see the oncoming vehicle until it was too late. The impact was brutal. For a moment, I thought I had died, like life had been completely sucked out of me.
Now, I glance around the hospital room, hoping to see a familiar face. Just then, a nurse walks in.
"Hey, Mr. West! Good to see you're awake."
I try to respond, but my throat is painfully dry. I motion weakly with my hand.
"Oh, I get it!" she says, quickly handing me a glass of water.
I take it from her gratefully, swallowing slowly as I regain my strength. But something nags at me—something I need to know.
"Someone was here, right?" My voice is hoarse, but I manage to speak. "Who was it?"
The nurse smiles. "Oh, your wife was here. She just stepped out to get something to eat. She was worried about you."
My grip tightens on the glass. My wife? Who is going around calling herself my wife?
It couldn't be Nadine. No way. She wouldn’t do that.
Before I can ask anything else, the door opens again, and my mother walks in. The moment she sees me, her face lights up with so much joy.
"Oh, my boy!" she exclaims, rushing toward me. She wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace, her warmth grounding me.
I smile weakly as she pats my back, holding me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
"Have you seen Nadine?" she asks, her eyes full of something I can’t quite place.
Before I can respond, the nurse interrupts, "Let me inform the doctor that you’re awake."
I nod at her, dismissing her politely.
As soon as the nurse leaves, I turn back to my mother, frowning slightly.
"You mean… Nadie was here?"
"Yes, Logan," she says gently. "You need to see her. She was so worried… She refused to leave your side last night."
"Perhaps you're talking about another Nadine," I say, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Do you mean Shawn’s mom?"
My mother gives me a look as if I might have hit my head harder than I thought.
"Of course, Logan—Shawn’s mom," she says, exasperated in her voice.
"Don't give me that look," I mumble. "It’s just… hard to believe, given everything that's happened between us lately."
Her expression softens. "Oh, I get it," she says with a small nod.
Just then, the doctor walks in. "Ah, good to see you’re awake, Mr. West. I’d like to run some more tests to make sure everything is perfect—especially your brain function."
My mother steps aside as he takes the necessary samples and checks my vitals. He moves with a casual confidence, something I’ve always admired in a good doctor.
He asks me a few questions about how I feel, and I answer honestly, knowing the details might help with any further treatment.
"Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it."
Then, after a brief hesitation, I decided to ask the one thing that’s been on my mind.
"But… have you seen my wife?"
I just need to know. I need to confirm the person claiming that title.
The doctor pauses, studying me for a moment as if he’s deciding whether I’m strong enough to handle whatever he’s about to say. I quickly school my features, not wanting him to withhold anything.
"What’s wrong?" I finally manage to ask.
He exhales lightly before answering.
"I think your wife might be stressed. With you in the hospital and other pressing issues, it must have been overwhelming. She fainted."
My chest tightens.
"But don’t worry," he quickly adds. "She’s being well taken care of. She’s in one of the rooms, receiving the best treatment."
I close my eyes for a moment, dragging a hand down my face, frustration and guilt twisting inside me.
This is my fault.
I did this to her.
The doctor watches me, waiting for my reaction. And then, without even thinking, I say something that makes him look at me strangely.