Page 87 of We Were Something
Logan purses his lips, glaring at her.
“Paige, this is Jen.”
“Becker,” the blonde says, standing up straight and pinning me with a look I know all too well. “Logan’s wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Logan corrects her.
I lick my lips, shoving down the part of me that wants to put this bitch in her place. If I’m here for Logan, I can’t be starting brawls in the hallway outside his mom’s ICU room.
“Nice to meet you, Jen,” I say, giving her a smile I hope is genuine even though I don’t entirely feel it. “I’m sure this has been really hard for you,” I start, remembering Logan mentioned at one point that his mom and his ex were close.
But before I can continue what I was saying, Jen points a finger at me, her eyes narrowed and her voice curt.
“You don’t knowanything.”
“Jen, stop it,” Logan says, his voice deep and commanding.
She looks at him with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Leave Paige alone. She’s done nothing wrong.” Then he looks at me, that apology from earlier back in his eyes. “Would you mind going by my mom’s and collecting some of her things?” he asks. “I haven’t had a chance yet to—”
“I’m not going to let some tart rifle through Nancy’s belongings,” Jen interjects. “Whoknowswhat she might try to pilfer.”
I blink twice, working hard to keep my mouth shut, biting the inside of my cheek to remind myself that Jen is clearly grieving and afraid.
Though I’d like to slap her across the face.
“Jennifer,” Logan says, his tone curt. “Apologize.”
“I will donosuch thing. You expect me to allow someone I don’t know to go to Nancy’s and—”
“No, I don’t.”
His words are hard as he cuts her off.
“I don’t expect you toallowanything, since Nancy isnotyour mother and you really havenosay.”
Jennifer looks at Logan like she wants to light him on fire, her face growing red with rage, like she might explode at any minute.
But instead, she suddenly bursts into tears, the deep kind of sob that comes with an uncontrollably desperate grief, and turns into Logan again, nearly collapsing against him.
Logan lets out a long sigh and wraps his arms around her, supporting her just enough to help her over to slump into one of the chairs across from Nancy’s room.
Then he turns to me and hands me a set of keys.
“I’ll text you the address and a list. It won’t be anything complicated. But she has a cat, if you could…”
“I got it,” I tell him, stepping into him and squeezing his hand. “Whatever you need. Just text me.”
He nods then leans in, pressing a brief kiss to my lips before I turn and head back down the hallway.
Part of me doesn’t want to leave him. Another part of me doesn’t want to leave himwith her, though I’m almost positive that little voice doesn’t hold any kind of weight, that I haveno needto be concerned about him consoling his ex-wife.
My phone lights up in my hand as I take the elevator down to the first floor with an address and a list of a handful of things to grab.
I clutch it like a lifeline.
The way I would have been clutching his hand if I’d been able to stay next to him.
