Chapter 133

Ella

Logan’s husky voice filled my ears, its gravelly tone instantly making me feel guilty. He had been sleeping.

“Ella? Why are you calling me?”

I swallowed, hesitating. I was supposed to be asleep now, too, but I hadn’t slept a wink. I was sitting in my kitchen now, a cup of steaming chamomile tea in front of me. I almost considered hanging up and pretending that it was an accident, but I knew that it was too late.

“Yeah, um, I just wanted to know… what color am I supposed to wear to the engagement party”” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause. My heart pounded as Logan finally spoke again. “Ella, is that what you really wanted to talk to me about?” he finally asked. “About the color of a dress? At… five in the morning?” His voice was unreadable, devoid of the warmth I remembered, and it hit me like a slap across the face.

The question hung in the air, and I felt the weight of my own dishonesty press down on me. I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to apologize for my snappy comments, my calculated aloofness, my inability to be honest—both with him and myself.

I wanted to tell him how much I actually missed our conversations, the feel of his touch, even the taste of his lips. But I couldn’t. Fear held me captive, just as it had held me captive for so long, building walls between me and the world, between me and my own happiness.

I took a deep breath. “Yes,” I answered, the word tasting sour as it left my lips. “I’m sorry, but it’s been keeping me awake. I needed to know.”

The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and with each passing millisecond, I felt as though I was falling further and further into an endless pit, with only the sound of my racing heart in my ears.

Finally, Logan sighed. “Ella, it doesn’t really matter. You can wear whatever you want.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, maybe a little too quickly. “But I think we should match, at least a little. If we want this to be believable, we should look somewhat coordinated.”

Another silence. Then, as though speaking through a yawn, Logan answered: “Alright, um… I think I’ll be wearing a blue tie, so maybe you should wear something blue too.”

I glanced at my closet. There was plenty to wear in there, but nothing that was both blue and a suitable dress for an engagement party, regardless of how fake the engagement was. “I don’t have a blue dress for an occasion like this,” I admitted.

There was another pause, heavier this time. “You can wear another color. I have plenty of ties.”

For some reason, as though keeping him on the phone was a lifeline, I frantically spoke again. “No, I like the idea of blue. Blue is good. I just… I don’t have a blue dress.”

Logan sighed. “Okay. I can buy one for you if you want,” he offered, his voice softening a bit.

My heart did a little flip. There it was again, that willingness, that wanting to extend a hand across the chasm we had both built. “I can buy it myself,” I replied, a flicker of my old independence flaring up.

“I really don’t mind, Ella,” he responded, undeterred. “The fake engagement party was my idea anyway.”

His words were like a slow burn, chipping away at the icy facade I had meticulously constructed. “Wow… Okay. Thank you, Logan,” I finally said, the words tinged with a bashfulness I hadn’t felt in a long time. It felt like a small victory, like untying a complex knot that had been strangling me.

“I’ll Venmo you the money right now,” he said, practical as ever.

But then, before I could stop myself, an idea tumbled out of my mouth like an unexpected avalanche. “Would you go shopping with me instead? Help me pick something out?”

I froze. Why did I say that? The silence that enveloped us was almost palpable. I felt a flush creeping up my cheeks. How stupid, asking such a question given our circumstances—our complicated, messy, undefined circumstances.

Just as I was about to backtrack, to spout some nonsense about how I didn’t really mean it, Logan sighed. “Sure, Ella. I’ll pick you up tomorrow. I mean… today, technically. I’ll pick you up today. At noon.”

My heart practically began to beat its way out of my chest at Logan’s words. Today?

“Today?” I found myself saying. “You mean… You’re home? I thought you went overseas.”

Logan paused for a moment. I could hear some shuffling around on the other end, like he was throwing the covers off and getting out of bed. Or maybe he was just rolling over, waiting for this conversation to end so he could go back to sleep. Either way, I felt equal parts guilty and equal parts ecstatic that he had at least spoken to me for this long.

“Erm, no,” he said, his voice carrying a tone to it that almost sounded the tiniest bit embarrassed. “I came home early.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, you did? Why?”

He paused for a moment, and I could picture him shrugging. “Does it matter?”

“Yes—” I began, but then stopped myself. “I mean, no, it doesn’t matter. I was just curious.”

“I just decided to,” he said after a beat. “Nothing to it, really. Figured it would be best if I came home a little early and got some work done. Wanna keep my dad happy, you know? The sooner I can get him to sign the family name over to me, the better.”

I swallowed, feeling the weight of what we were really doing this for suffocating me again. My career. Logan’s future. Nothing else, not even at five in the morning, when my hopes and dreams had me thinking differently.

“Right,” I finally said, forcing a tiny smile even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “That makes sense.”

He paused again, and this time, I could hear him audibly yawn through the phone.

“Well, thanks,” I said quickly, my hand shaking as I held my phone up to my ear. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. There it was again: his tone softened ever so slightly, and for just a moment, I swore I could hear a smile in his voice. “Anything to help.”

“So… Today?” I asked.

Logan paused. “Yeah. Noon. I’ll see you then, alright?”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Alright. Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

I paused, frozen in time. I hadn’t meant to say anything, but the words were so close, so thick in my throat. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, that I missed him, that I needed him here. That I wanted him right now, in my bed, his warm arms around me.

But at the end of it all, I couldn’t do it. Maybe it was my tightly wound nerves, or the reminder of the Barrett family fortune being at the center of all of this, or the memory of the fact that Logan, despite knowing that I was his fated mate, had initially planned on keeping me as a mistress before he knew about my true lineage.

Or maybe it was just the sound of another audible yawn coming through the phone that made me stop.

“Nevermind,” I almost whispered. “Goodnight.”

Logan paused before speaking. “Goodnight, Ella.”