Page 96 of We Were Something
“I wanted her to be near the park,” Logan tells me as we kick off our shoes at the door and trudge slowly toward what I’m assuming is a bed we can pass out in. “When she moved here, she had a dog—a long-haired dachshund named Guinness.”
I snort, smiling at the image that comes to mind. “That’s adorable.”
“Shewasadorable. She passed away a few years ago, but it’s still been great for mom to have access to the green space so she can go on walks and stay active.”
He comes to a weird stop at the doorway to a bedroom, his fist softly bumping the doorframe before he turns to me, his eyes rimmed in sadness and fear.
“She’s going to walk through that park again,” I tell him, wishing I could be here to see it. “I just know it.”
Logan nibbles on his lip, nodding. I don’t know if he believes me or not, or if he’s just choosing to hope.
Either way, it’s gotta be better than the alternative.
He turns again and moves into the bedroom, tugging off his shirt as he circles to the far side of the bed.
It almost hurts to look at him, and that makes me feel like a totally shallow asshole because I’m not in love with him strictly because of how attractive he is. Though it definitely doesn’t hurt.
I’m in love with his child-saving heart and his crazy intellectual mind. I’m in love with the silly way he struggles to communicate when it comes to sex. I’m in love with the feel of his hands on my face and the dreamy way he looks into my eyes.
I’m in love with a million little things about him that I doubt anyone else notices. Like the way he blinks twice when he’s confused. His nervous tic of biting the inside of his cheek. The gray hairs in his beard. The way he laughs when he’s caught off guard.
And it’sbecauseI’m in love with all of those things, those bits and pieces of who he is, that I say what I say next.
“I think I’m going to head back to Hermosa tomorrow.”
Logan’s head whips to the side, surprise crossing his features.
“What?”
I take a deep breath and decide to just spill the honest truth. Instead of sneaking away, I lay it on the line.
“I don’t want to get in the way…between you and Jen. Maybe it’s not on your mind right now because your mom is unconscious, but at some point, it will come to you…the fact that you two should be together.”
He turns to face me, something like anger replacing his surprise.
“What the hell are you talking about? There’s nothing left between me and Jen.”
But I’m already shaking my head.
“There is though. I saw it today, when I came back to the ICU and saw the two of you. Together, laughing, talking to your mom.” I pause, trying to tuck away my own swell of emotions as I say the next part. “You put your hand on her stomach like…like she…”
“Like any man would do when trying to communicate with his unconscious mother, even if it means leaning into the idea that she’ll have a grandchild if she wakes up.”
I stay silent, not sure how to respond to that but feeling almost certain that if he gives it all a bit more thought…
“You flew up here to be with me, and now you’re throwing in the towel and telling me to go back to my ex-wife? I thought…” He rests his hands on his hips and glares at me, never finishing his sentence.
“She wants you back,” I whisper, batting at the single tear that sneaks free from my right eye. “She came to me and begged me to leave, because she wants you back. Who am I to steal you away when what you all need right now as you grieve is your family. You could be a family together.”
“Where is all this coming from?” he asks me. “I feel like I’m missing something. Tell me what I’m missing.”
I cross my arms and shift on my feet, wanting to run and hide and wanting to run into his arms at the same time. Penny and Lennon are the only two who have lived this with me, and I’ve made a habit of never discussing what happened.
But I know I need to tell him. Need to be honest about what being with me will mean for him.
“I told you I dropped out of school because New York wasn’t for me,” I say, my eyes focusing on the light green lamp shade behind him. “That’s true, but it’s not the full story.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, surely confused by what probably seems like a sharp veer in topic.
