Chapter 189

At work, I once again asked my boss if I could take on more work.

He looked at me strangely. “I don’t know how things are done down at the main office, but here in Russford, we don’t drown our employees. We take care of each other.”

Didn’t he understand? I wanted to drown. If I thought it might have actually convinced him, I would have dropped to my knees and begged him to please give me more assignments, more work, so that I wouldn’t have to think about my own tragic personal life anymore.

But things were slower in Russford. The people were kinder. They cared about each other. So I knew my pleas would only fall on deaf ears.

Heartbroken and miserable, I shuffled back to my desk and completed my unfortunately limited tasks for the day.

I didn’t call Logan that night.

Or the next.

He tried to call me five times spread out over the two days, but didn’t leave any voicemails. His only text read, Please.

I was afraid to talk to him, worried I might be tired enough to end things. Russford was fine, but I missed my hometown. I missed my friends and our regular places. I didn’t like drinking alone.

Didn’t Logan understand that all these sacrifices I’d been making were for him? Yet he couldn’t turn Tina away for me?

It was too much. I felt so alone.

At the end of another boring work day, I clocked out and went into the elevator. I was surrounded by co-workers, but they already had established friend groups. As an outsider, I was struggling to break into any of them. No one ever invited me to anything.

I hadn’t even heard from Tammy or Frank in a couple days. I knew they were okay. I saw them working through the windows of the grocery store when I went home the night before. But since they hadn’t reached out, I respected their choice and gave them a wide berth.

Maybe Tammy regretted telling me the things she had. Or the conversation had raised feelings better left buried.

In my car, I drove myself home. Oddly, there was a car parked in the usually empty spot beside mine. A nice car too. It looked a lot like the car Logan drove.

Yeah, right. Maybe I was imagining things. I’d been so lonely, I was making up dream scenarios in my head.

Of course it would be nice if Logan took a day off work to drive out to see me for a long weekend, but what were the actual odds? Logan would never give up a day’s work for anyone, not even his wife.

Laughing at myself, I exited my car and locked it up. I turned around, facing the side of the grocery store where the stairs to the apartments were located.

There was a man sitting on the bottom step. He stood as I came closer.

I dropped my purse.

“Logan?”

He smiled a little, though it wobbled. “Hi, Hazel. Is it okay that I’m here?”

Okay? It was all my heart had desired from the start. Here he was, skipping work, making an effort, any effort, just for me.

I ran toward him. Just as I reached him, I leaped.

His arms went wide but closed instantly as I collided with his chest. He caught me and held me close against him. Immediately, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. I buried my head into his shoulder, and he, his face into the corner of my neck.

“I can’t believe you are here,” I mumbled.

“I couldn’t stay away anymore,” Logan said. “Not after I realized how much I hurt you.”

“I don’t want to talk about that. Not yet.”

“Okay. Whatever you want, Hazel. Anything. I swear.”

We held each other like that for a time, before the sounds of the cars driving by returned to my ringing ears and I realized how exposed we were. Unhooking my legs, I lowered my feet to the ground.

“Come upstairs,” I told him. “We can talk in my apartment.”

Logan nodded. He seemed somewhat dazed. I imagined I looked the same.

I went back to retrieve my purse and he grabbed his bag from his car. As I eyed it in his hands, he said, “I’m hoping… that I could stay?”

I nodded. Even if our talk didn’t work out, which right now, it seemed like we would be fine, I wouldn’t kick him out into the night with the long drive home. At the very least, he could sleep on the couch.

The longer I was in his presence though, looking at him here with me in the flesh, the less likely it seemed that he was going to be anywhere near that couch tonight.

As we entered the apartment, Logan stopped to look around. The building itself was older than the previous one I’d lived it, but the way it was arranged made it feel more homely and less sterile. Even the colors were more creams and earth tones than cold gray and harsh white.

“I like it,” Logan said.

“Me, too,” I agreed. “And with the grocery downstairs, I can just run down and get items for dinner. I don’t really have to plan in advance.”

Logan hummed and I remembered that he wasn’t the world’s best cook. In fact, the one time he’d tried to cook for me, he’d practically destroyed my last kitchen.

I chucked at the thought. Logan’s attention snapped to me.

“Sorry,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand. “I was just thinking of you with flour in your hair.”

The memory made him smile too, though he tried to hide it. He was trying so hard to maintain distance and coolness, I could tell, likely thinking that what I wanted.

Driving here without notice was a risk, one he likely wasn’t used to taking. I kept forgetting how difficult navigating our marriage must have been for a man like him, who wasn’t used to holding onto an actual relationship.

Before me, he’d had flings, but he’d admitted he’d never been in love.

Tossing my purse aside, I started toward the bedroom. “I want to change out of my work clothes,” I said.

He watched me with the eyes of a hawk, but didn’t otherwise move an inch. I wasn’t even sure if he blinked.

At my doorframe, I turned back toward him. Lifting my hand, I crooked my finger, motioning him closer.

He moved at once. “Hazel,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me and yanked me against his hard chest. His lips crashed down over mine. His tongue licked along my bottom lip, coaxing my mouth open. The moment my lips parted, he licked his way inside.

His kiss was so intense, it stole my breath away.

“I want you,” he growled against my mouth.

“Then have me,” I answered.

His hands went to my backside. Cupping my ass, he lifted me off the ground, and hobbling, carried me to the bed.

We both dropped down onto the sheets with him on top of me. All around me.

He made short work of my clothes, and as we came together, I held on, begging and then screaming his name.

After, as he held me in the afterglow, he kissed along my jaw and asked, “Forgive me.”