Page 34 of Life After You

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. I didn’t hear him approach—no creaking floorboards, no warning—just the quiet tap against the wood. Then another.

I knew this was coming. Logan never leaves things unsaid for long. A blessing and a curse. I’m grateful for it. Resentful, too. There’s no hiding now.

“Mac?” His voice is quiet, almost hesitant. “Can I come in?”

I swallow hard, my fingers tightening around the comforter. This is it. No more running, no more avoiding. I exhale slowly, forcing myself to find the courage I’ve been trying to muster all night.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Come in, we need to talk.”

Logan stands by the window, gazing out into the twilight. The room is dark except for the dim glow of the streetlights outside, spilling through the gaps in the curtains. Shadows stretch across Logan’s face, but they don’t hide the raw emotion tightening his features. He looks more somber now. I don’t like serious Logan—it frightens me. Not because of him, but because of how he makes me feel.

He looks wrecked. Not just tired, but worn down, like he’s been carrying the weight of the world for too long. Heartbreak and devastation linger in the set of his jaw, the slump of his shoulders. A vein pulses in his neck, his hands balling into fists as he glances around, waiting for me. Always waiting.

I lick my lips, trying to find my voice. Come on. Speak. Just open your mouth.

But the words won’t come.

And it’s because of me.

I sit on the edge of the bed, my fingers twisted together in my lap. He doesn’t move. Just stands there, staring at me like I might disappear all over again.

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his voice breaking when he finally speaks. He beats me to it—of course he does. I’m lost, my thoughts tangled in a mess too thick to unravel, choking on all the words I want to say but can’t.

“Was it me, angel?” His voice is quiet, raw. “Did I… do something wrong?”

I blink, my chest tightening at the desperation in his tone.

“What?” The word escapes before I can stop it, carried on a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My well-intended reasoning, my carefully built walls—none of it stands a chance. I’m already unraveling.

Logan lets out a breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“I don’t—I don’t understand, Mac.” Logan’s voice is rough, unsteady. “We gave you space, like you asked. I didn’t want to. I wanted you with us—with me.”

His eyes spark with something sharp, his tone edged with bitterness. “But months went by. No replies. I thought, enough is enough. So I went to find you, and you were just… gone. No word. No explanation. Months without a single fucking message.” He exhales harshly, raking a hand through his hair. “It scared the shit outta me, angel.” His voice drops, hoarse with emotion. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t found Braden’s phone.”

My heart clenches. His words crash over me, a physical force, each one hitting harder than the last.

Panic wells up. The thought of the situation reversed—if I had gone looking for him only to find nothing—makes my stomach twist. I thought leaving would ease the weight pressing on my chest, but was it selfish?

Looking at him now, like he’s missing a piece of himself, I realize just how much I broke him by leaving.

And now, here he is. Standing in my tiny room, in a city he never belonged in, asking if he’s the one who did something wrong.

I shake my head quickly, my throat tight with emotion. “It wasn’t you, Logan.” The words spill out, snapping me out of my daze before I choke on the guilt of sitting here, watching Logan Dale in pain.

“Then why?” His voice cracks, his jaw tightening like he’s barely holding himself together. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you tell me where you were? Why did you make me go months without hearing from you?”

I suck in a shaky breath. I have no answer that will take away the hurt in his eyes. No excuse that will make him understand.

All I know is that I never wanted to see this look on his face.

I drag in a shaky breath, wrapping my arms around myself like it might somehow keep me from unraveling. Logan is watching me—waiting—his blue eyes burning into mine, demanding the truth.

I owe him that much.

“I just… I needed time.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “At first, that’s all it was. Just time to breathe, to figure out how to exist in a world where Braden wasn’t in it. Without my parents. Grams.” My throat tightens, my vision blurring. “But then… then I didn’t know how to reach back out.”

Logan doesn’t move, but something in his expression shifts—like he’s bracing for the next words.

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