Page 86 of Somewhere Without You
“You don’t get to use my feelings as a reason for lying,”I said.“You don’t get to say it was about protectingmewhen it was really about protectingyou.”
He winced. Good.
“Do you love her?”
Logan didn’t hesitate. He shook his head.“No. Not now. Not then. Not ever.”
“Then why?”My voice shook despite me.“Whyher?”
He exhaled sharply. Then he sank into the chair across from me, elbows on his knees, hands laced together forcing them to stay steady.
Outside, the wind howled, rattling the window he’d just repaired. I wondered, vaguely, if it would hold.
“I told you,”he said after a long pause.“I wasn’t myself when I got back. I was barely anything at all. The Army stripped pieces of me I didn’t even know I had, and then losing you—”He stopped, jaw tightening.“I was a wreck. Madeline was like fucking duct tape. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t look too closely. She just wanted to fix me. And I was so tired of being broken.”
“So she was convenient?”I pressed, bitterly.
Logan shrugged.“I think some part of her always knew I wasn’t really in it. That my heart was never fully there because it still belonged to you.”
I swallowed hard, but didn’t look away.
“She wanted me to move to Boston because she knew, eventually, you’d come back,”he added.“And she was right.”For a moment, I saw the truth in his eyes—raw and unguarded. But it didn’t dull the sting.
“Love doesn’t mean much if it’s built on half-truths,”I said. Hot tears filled my eyes, and this time, I didn’t stop them. They slipped down silently, one after another.“I let you in. I told you the truth, even when it hurt. And you. . . you only gave me half of yours, dressed up like a whole.”
Logan looked like he wanted to close the space between us, to reach for me. But he didn’t. Maybe he finally understood that whatever stood between us now couldn’t be patched up with apologies or promises.
“You have every right to be angry,” he insisted. “I messed this up—completely. But what I felt for you, what Ifeel. . . that’s real. It’s the only thing that’s ever made any sense to me.”
I didn’t speak. Not right away.
Because what could I say to that? That I was flattered? That it somehow made this easier? It didn’t. It only made everything murkier, like stepping into water you thought was shallow only to find yourself sinking.
“I’m not some echo, Logan,”I said, my voice thin and trembling.“You don’t get to keep circling back to me every time something else doesn’t work out for you.”
He flinched, like the words had struck a nerve, but he didn’t argue. Maybe he knew better than to try.
“I don’t know if I can come back from this,”I admitted, staring down at my hands.“You keep saying I was the one thing that felt real. . . but if that’s true, why wasn’t it enough to tell me the truth?”
Silence settled between us, thick and uncomfortable. He looked like he wanted to answer, like he had a thousand things on the tip of his tongue. But none of them made it past his lips.
“I need time,”I said, standing slowly.“I don’t know what this is anymore. Whatweare. Or if we were even anything at all.”
He nodded, his jaw flexing.“I’ll give you whatever you need.”
I patted my eyes with my shirt.“Right now, I think I need you to leave.”
“Emily—”
“Don’t,”I said, holding up a hand.“Just. . . don’t.”
Logan stood, brushing his palms against his jeans like he needed something to do with his hands.“Ok,”he relented.“You need space. And I. . .”He glanced toward the door, then back at me.“I’ve done enough damage for one day.”
I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. That I forgave him? That I understood? Because I didn’t. Not yet.
So instead, I said nothing.
He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob.“For what it’s worth, I meant it. All of it. Evenif I said it too late.”
