Page 28 of Life After You

And then something inside me snaps. I’m moving before I can think, crossing the space between us in long, frantic strides. His eyes widen for a moment, his hands coming up instinctively, and then I’m throwing myself into his arms.

The force of it almost knocks him back, but Logan steadies us both, his arms locking around me like a vice. I bury my face in his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt with trembling hands.

“Logan,” I whisper, my voice breaking on his name.

His scent hits me—familiar and achingly missed. The tears I’ve been holding since leaving finally spill over, hot and unrelating. Sobs rack my body, and Logan just holds me tighter, his fingers threading through my hair.

“I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you, angel.”

I pull back slightly, enough to look up at him. His face is raw, etched with the weight of grief and something else. Relief, maybe? Guilt? Love? I see it all in his eyes, and it makes my heart ache in ways I can’t begin to describe.

“I didn’t think…” My words choke off, my throat closing up. I shake my head trying to form an apology I know he deserves, but none of it feels enough. “I’m sorry,” I manage, the words barely audible.

Logan’s brows draw together, and he shakes his head. “Don’t. Don’t do that. You don’t have to –” his voice falters, and he exhales sharply. “I’ve missed you so much, Mac.”

Something in his tone breaks me all over again. I feel the weight of Braden’s absence pressing down on us, an invisible specter in the space between our bodies. It’s impossible not to feel the guilt, the shame, for how things fell apart—how I let them fall apart.

“I thought you hated me,” I admit, my voice trembling. “After everything, how I walked away after Braden’s…how I couldn’t find the words to text you…”

Logan’s grip tightens, his forehead dropping to mine. “Hate you? Never. I could never hate you.” His voice cracks and I feel his breath on my face. “I’ve been so scared you’d never let me back in.”

The intensity of his words sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over me. For a moment, the pain of Braden’s loss and the joy of seeing Logan again tangle together, overwhelming me.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper again, tears spilling faster now. “I’m so sorry, Logan.”

His hands cup my face, his thumb brushing away the tears. “Stop. You don’t have to apologize. Not to me.” I shake my head, my lips trembling. “But I do. I do, because I’ve missed you, and I was too scared to...” My voice breaks, and I bury my head in his chest again. “I’m so scared, Logan.”

He kisses the top of my head, his voice soft but steady. “Me, too. But I’m here, angel. We’ll figure it out together.” For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself believe him.

Dean clears his throat behind us, and I reluctantly pull away, though Logan doesn’t let go of me entirely. His hands stay firm on my waist, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.

I turn to face them, my cheeks warm as I struggle to find my voice.

“This is Logan,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “Logan Dale. He was my brother Braden’s best friend. And mine too. Since we were kids... My brother, he passed...”

Logan’s fingers tighten slightly on my waist at the mention of Braden, and I feel his steadying presence behind me. Patty’s face softens as she comes out from behind the counter.

“I’m so sorry about Braden. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through.”

Logan nods, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Thank you.”

Dean steps forward, his posture a little stiff, like he’s not sure what to do with his hands. “Dean,” he says curtly, nodding in Logan’s direction. “I’ve been helping Kayla out while she’s been... getting back on her feet.”

I open my mouth to explain, but Logan’s attention shifts to Dean, his blue eyes sharp and assessing. His hand moves to the small of my back, a simple gesture, but one that says more than words ever could.

“Appreciate that,” Logan says, his voice calm but carrying an edge I’ve only ever heard in his more protective moments. “She’s been through a lot.”

The air feels heavier, a silent tension weaving its way into the space between them. Dean nods, but his jaw tightens slightly. “Yeah. Of course.”

I clear my throat, my voice shaky as I speak. “Logan was there when Braden...” My words falter, and I close my eyes, taking asteadying breath. “When Braden passed, but he had to go back on tour right after. He didn’t have a choice.”

Guilt bubbles up, and I stare at the floor, unable to meet anyone’s gaze.

“Angel, stop,” Logan says, his voice soft but firm as he turns me toward him. His hands come up to rest on my shoulders, and when I finally look up, his eyes are filled with something I don’t deserve.

Understanding.

“You don’t have to explain,” he says, his tone steady and grounding. “Not to them, not to anyone. You hear me?”

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