Page 54 of The Runaway Bride's Vow

She ended the call without leaving a message. Maybe she should have told him what she had to say in a message, but she’d hesitated.

She paced back and forth. She paused and stared at the barn. There was no sign of her parents. She was left to wonder what her mother was saying to her father. Or more importantly, what her father was saying to her mother.

Brooke sat down and stared at her phone. She considered trying to call Logan again but decided against it. Instead, she pulled up her email and began to write to him.

Logan, most importantly I’m so sorry…

Chapter Eighteen

He was back at work.

Logan mopped the floor of the common room at the firehouse. Technically, it wasn’t his duty, but he was taking on as many duties as he could find to keep himself busy. Any time he stopped working, his thoughts would inevitably stray to Brooke.

He’d noticed that while he’d been speaking to the chief that Brooke had called. He’d also noticed that she hadn’t left him a voicemail. She probably realized there was nothing she could say to make things better.

For the life of him, he never in a million years would have guessed she’d leave him at the altar. He’d foolishly believed their relationship was unbreakable—that she would never leave him—like his ex had done. The thought weighed heavy on him.

The pain from Brooke leaving was more excruciating than when his marriage had fallen apart. How could that be? It wasn’t like they’d been together for years. They didn’t share a child.

And yet somehow, she’d burrowed deep into his heart, filling in the cracks and making it whole again. At least it had been whole. Now it was shattered beyond repair.

Dylan walked up to him. “Now you’re cleaning? What’s next?”

Logan finished swiping the mop over the floor and plunging it back in the bucket before turning to Dylan. “Maybe you should do more around here, and I wouldn’t have to pick up the slack.”

Dylan’s brow arched. “A bit testy today.”

“Just trying to get things done,” he muttered.

Logan rolled the bucket out of the common room. He sensed Dylan hot on his heels. Logan resisted groaning in frustration. Why wouldn’t Dylan just leave him be?

Finally, Logan stopped and turned to him. “What do you want?”

Dylan’s eyes widened as he held up his hands innocently. “I’m just concerned about you.”

“Well, don’t be. I’m fine.” He turned around and gave the bucket a hard shove. It rolled straight into their lieutenant. The water sloshed over the edge and splashed onto the lieutenant’s shoes.

The lieutenant scowled at him. “Watch it, Montgomery.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant.”

The lieutenant looked as though he wanted to say more but hesitated. After a moment, he said, “Clean up this mess. We don’t want anyone falling.”

“Yes, sir.” After the lieutenant moved on, Logan turned to Dylan. Before he could say anything, his phone dinged. He didn’t get many messages. Concerned it might be something to do with Kaylie, he pulled it from his pocket.

The breath stilled in his lungs when he saw it was an email from Brooke. He told himself he shouldn’t care what she had to say, and yet there was a part of him that needed to know—needed to understand why she’d left him.

Before he could convince himself that this was a bad idea, he pressed the button. The email opened on the screen.

“Is everything okay?” Dylan asked.

“I don’t know. It’s a note from Brooke.”

“How about I take care of the mop water? And you read the note.”

Logan wasn’t even sure he answered before he walked away. He couldn’t imagine what Brooke had to say, so he waited until he was out of the firehouse and on the driveway before he looked at his phone again.

Logan, most importantly, I’m so sorry.

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