Chapter 33

Logan's POV

I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing. How did she get here? There was no invitation. No warning. Isabella had been gone for years, leaving us behind, and now, out of nowhere, she just waltzes back into our lives like nothing happened. And of all people, she was standing there with Xaden on the balcony, looking as if she had never left. I could feel my blood begin to boil, but I pushed it down, trying to stay calm.

The mattress beneath me felt strangely cold, too soft, as if the comfort I had once found in it had vanished with the sudden, unwelcome appearance of Isabella. I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling that was growing inside of me. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was a part of the past I had buried, and now it felt like the past was knocking at my door, demanding to be remembered.

The door creaked open, and I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. The faint sound of footsteps on the floorboards told me everything I needed to know. I clenched my jaw and kept my eyes on the ceiling, pretending I hadn’t noticed her.

“Logan,” Isabella’s voice was calm, almost too calm, like she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell into my life. I didn’t turn to look at her, not yet. I wasn’t ready.

She paused, probably expecting a response, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. Not yet. The silence stretched between us for a moment before I heard her sigh, the sound of her stepping closer to me. I could almost hear the smile on her face, that smile that used to drive me crazy when we were younger. She was never afraid to push my buttons.

“You know,” she said, her voice dropping into a softer tone, “you look different.”

I still didn’t move. “I don’t care.”

Isabella didn’t seem put off by my indifference. I could hear her soft laughter, the sound of her standing by the door like she was too comfortable in her own skin. “Always the same, Logan. Always the same.”

I heard the small shuffle of her feet as she leaned against the doorframe, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze flicker to her for a split second. There she was, standing with that infuriating smile. Her eyes, the same dark shade I remembered, fixed on me like I was supposed to react in some way. And I wanted to, oh, I wanted to so badly. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

She tilted her head slightly, as if analyzing me. “How’s Violet?” she asked, casually, as if she hadn’t just waltzed back into our lives like a ghost from the past.

I frowned, confusion creeping into my chest. “Violet?” I muttered, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. “Why are you asking about her?”

Isabella’s smile flickered for a moment, and I could see her expression harden slightly, but it was quick. So quick, I almost thought I imagined it. “You don’t know?” she asked, her voice tinged with a little too much sweetness. “You didn’t hear? You’ve been busy, huh?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, sitting up abruptly. My heart skipped a beat. There was something about her tone, something that made my chest tighten with unease.

Isabella’s eyes narrowed as she leaned in a little closer, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s upset with you, Logan. She’s... angry. And I’m not sure how much longer she’s going to hold it together.”

My stomach sank at the words, and I stood up quickly, the mattress creaking beneath me. “What? How? She just arrived! She’s been gone for—” I stopped, the words getting caught in my throat. How could she already be angry? How could she have gotten into something with someone so quickly?

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of the situation, but nothing seemed to fit. The pieces didn’t make sense. Violet, angry? It didn’t add up. Not after everything we’d been through.

Isabella didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she just stood there, her gaze piercing, unreadable. The smile was gone now, replaced by something colder, something I couldn’t quite place. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange?” she finally said, her voice cutting through the air. “You’ve been so busy with your own little world that you didn’t even notice she was upset.”

I snapped, my fists clenching at my sides. “What are you trying to say? You think I’m some kind of idiot?”

Her lips twitched upward, but the expression wasn’t kind. “No. I’m just saying you should’ve been paying attention.” She paused, her eyes narrowing again. “Maybe if you weren’t so focused on... other things, you would have seen it.”

My heart thudded in my chest, the words stinging more than I wanted to admit. I opened my mouth, ready to shoot back something sharp, but then I saw the way her face had shifted, the almost... resigned look in her eyes.

I shook my head, frustrated. “I’m not taking sides. I just... I don’t get it. Why would Violet get upset so fast? She’s been my partner for years, Isabella. She knows me. She knows I’d never do anything to hurt her. So what the hell is going on?”

Isabella stepped forward slightly, her eyes softening, just a little, but I couldn’t tell if it was genuine. “Maybe you should ask her,” she suggested quietly. “Maybe you should figure out why she’s so upset before it’s too late.”

Before I could respond, my feet were moving before my brain had time to process. Without a word, I walked toward her, each step quicker, each breath more labored.

I reached out, taking her arm gently in my hand, pulling her towards me. “I’m not taking her side. But I’m not going to let her just—” I stopped, trying to find the right words, the right thing to say.

I sighed, my hands dropping to my sides. “I’ll figure this out.”

Isabella’s gaze softened again, but there was something behind her eyes, something unreadable. “I hope you do,” she said quietly. “But don’t take too long, Logan. Sometimes people can’t wait forever.”

I clenched my jaw, unable to form a response, my mind already racing ahead. Isabella wasn’t wrong. She never was, at least not when it came to seeing through the mess I made of things. I just... hoped this time, she was wrong. I couldn’t lose Violet. Not over something I didn’t even understand yet.

I turned, moving toward the door, but I paused before stepping out, my eyes meeting Isabella’s one last time. She was standing there, watching me with an almost distant expression.

“I’ll fix it,” I muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Her eyes flickered with something — sympathy? Regret? It was hard to tell. “You better,” she replied softly.