Page 11 of Secret Baby With My Brother's Best Friend

Have I made things worse?

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Harper frowned. "What do you know about how I feel?"

"Harp, I'm just trying to make things better," I muttered softly.

"How? How do you intend to do that?" She asked, but I didn't answer. "By apologizing? Do you even know what I've been through?" There was water in her eyes now.

"What do you mean?"

Chapter Seven

Harper

The word enraged couldn't even begin to cover how I felt—a wave of anger washed over me as Logan's words sank their claws into me. "Forget the past and move on." He said it as if the emotional turmoil I had endured in the last few years was a minor inconvenience that could be easily disregarded and swept under the rug like it never happened. It was infuriating. Did he honestly believe it was that simple? That he could ask me to forget the past, and I would just ignore all the pain and hardships I had experienced in his absence? It was preposterous.

Logan had no right to tell me to move on, yet I was not surprised to hear him say it. What could he possibly know about how I lived in the last six years? The hardships I endured in his absence, and all the pain I felt and still feel right now. Does he expect me to forget that simply because he said so without any explanation or even a proper apology for what he did back then?

The sheer arrogance of his words irritated me to no end. If we weren't in a crowded space, I might have gone ahead and thrown my coffee on his face, hoping it was heated enough to burn him a little just to show him how infuriated I was. But luck was on his side. Logan had spoken without any regard for my feelings and no understanding as to what I had gone through on my own, and that angered me beyond reason. My eyes stung with tears at the thought of the past few years and what I had to endure. But I refused to shed a tear in front of him. He wasn't worth it. I glared at Logan, balling my palm into a tight fist and resisting the urge to yell my next words to him at the top of my voice. This wasn't the place for such conversation, and if we kept arguing, we might cause a scene.

"What do I mean?" I sneered. "What does it matter to you? I don't have time for this, Logan," I said and got to my feet. I strode out of the restaurant, picking up the pace as I returned to my room.

Logan caught the door as it was about to close, stepping into the room with me. Ohhhh No. I stepped back, putting enough space between us. "What are you doing here?" I asked sternly, feeling the heat rising under my skin.

"We are not done talking. I don't like it when you walk away during a conversation," he said softly, leaning against the door.

"I am done talking!"

"I'm not!" he stepped closer. "I am trying to make things better, and you're refusing to listen and making an issue out of it."

"You're trying to make things better?!" I raised my voice, poking a finger through the air. Logan's eyes lowered to my lips, and I could feel the passion simmer between us. I bit my lips, staring at him.

"Yes, I am," he replied gently.

"How? By telling me to move on?" I raised a brow.

"Yes, that's how to make things better."

"You don't know what you're talking about," I asserted, stepping back.

"Yes, I do."

"You obviously don't!" I yelled. "It was six years, Logan!" I exclaimed, clenching my fist tightly to control my temper. "Six years!" I repeated with more emphasis. "Not a few weeks or months but years. You don't get to tell me to forget everything just like that and move on. You have no right to do that!" I screamed.

"That wasn't my intention. I just wanted—"

"Wanted what?" I interjected harshly. "You wanted to control my emotions and tell me what to do."

"When did I do that?" Logan shook his head, stepping closer. "I wanted to make things better so we can work together without any bad blood, but as always, you can't stand to be reasonable at all!" he snapped. His eyes reddened.

I scoffed. "I can't stand to be reasonable?" I repeated with a sneer and frowned. "That's big coming from you. If you were even slightly reasonable, you wouldn't have asked me to move on without considering what I must have gone through all those years."

"What did you go through?" he asked with a shrug. "Was it anything less than what I went through? You make it sound like I did something monstrous to you."

What? I couldn't believe what I just heard him say to him. I stepped back like I might pass out from the effect of his words. I felt a massive rock settle in the pit of my stomach.

His arrogance clearly knows no bounds, and the thought of slapping him across the face looked even more appealing to me by the moment. I feigned a laugh, the pain of his words cutting through my chest. I hated him so badly.

"I make it sound like you did something monstrous to me?" I reverberated incredulously, unable to believe my ears. "So you did nothing to me then?" I questioned blankly. "Is that what you are trying to say?" I asked him.

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