Page 62 of Until You Found Me

Let’s see how far apart she can rip herself to shreds is what that sounds like. “Too recent. I can’t, I’m sorry. I need a break.”

She pushes past him and out the door, grateful for the ice-cold air that hits her face.

Tessa hears Logan behind her before she sees him and wants to rush into his arms, but she might lose the thin thread of self-control that keeps her secret hidden. He stayed home from work today to be here with her. He needs the money waiting for him out there, swimming in the ocean. It’s more confirmation that she’s already a burden, no matter how often he tells her she isn’t.

If he believes she’s unstable, he won’t leave for work again. She won’t be the reason he can’t afford his next round of insulin.

It’s jarring to have something this big burning a hole in her heart. They left the house this morning kissing at the kitchen sink and sneaking pecks in the truck at red lights. Now she’s afraid to look at him. He must assume he’s done something wrong because he pulls away almost as quickly as she does. The drive home is as quiet and heavy as the guilt in her chestfor keeping something from him.

What a difference a few hours and one traumatic memory can make.

* * *

They spend the rest of the afternoon working on one of the domes. He tells her they can put it off another day, but she needs the distraction.

In the end, she’s handed a wad of cash from Arthur. “Since you haven’t been living in that one anymore, you get paid too. It’s only fair. But you’re welcome to move back in now that I put those cameras up. Safer now.”

“Thank you, I’ll think about it.”

Logan’s face falls as if she has any intention of actually leaving the trailer. Before she can tell him otherwise, he informs her that he’s going to work on a few things in the shed. “Giving you some space, that’s all. I’ll be back for dinner.”

He doesn’t give her much chance to reply and tell him she doesn’t want space, that she didn’t mean any of it like that, and that she’s just as confused as he is. She watches him disappear into the shed from the window, his shoulders hunched and head hung.

She needs to fix this somehow. One hour of near silence has turned into half a day and now it’s like a snowball rolling downhill picking up dog turds along the way.

Instead of marching after him and using her words like an adult, she makes muffins, whisking the ingredients together as if the bowl offended her, trying to find relief in another distraction but only feeling Logan’s absence.

Maybe they do need some space.Maybe he wants space away from her.

Nothing’s changed, she tells herself. She’s only keeping this from him for his own good.

“I can’t tell him,” she says to the dog. “He’ll never leave again and he needs to work. He already has enough to worry about with me adding to it.”

Fear of judgment or disgust could be the real reason she’s keeping this to herself, despite knowing no one has ever been more understanding than Logan. This is different, though. This could change everything. So, she beats the muffin batter to within an inch of its life and shoves the tin into the oven, pacing the empty trailer with the dog on her heels. The bathroom from her therapy session comes to life behind closed lids every time she blinks. Cold, lifeless, wrong in every way it could be.

In the end, she abandons the idea of leaving Logan alone until he chooses to come back and takes a plate of fresh muffins into the shed.

“Hungry? Brought you something.” She smiles, holding out the food toward a dirt-covered Logan.

His eyes brighten when he sees her, even more so when he spots the muffins. “Thanks, didn’t have to.”

“Wanted to. Needed to bake something and keep busy. Kinda like you.”

He dips his head with a sheepish nod as if he’s questioning his choice to come out here at all. “Sometimes it’s good to get lost in parts and broken shit. Feel like I can fix something. Been meaning to replace the kitchen table with this new top, and then there’s all these cabinet doors for the domes.”

“I can leave you alone if you like the quiet.”

“No,” he says quickly. “I want you to stay.”

A sliver of relief at how easily he allows her back in warms her heart. She takes a muffin of her own and inhales it piece by piece, wandering the area, and running her hand over the edge of the workbench filled with odds and ends. “It’s warmer in here than I expected.”

“The heater helps.” He nods toward the small electric heater in the corner that toasts the space.

Things are awkward now and she hates that fixing it is a challenge. Neither of them are much good at idle conversation on a normal day, but it’s never been this difficult.

He watches her with the hopeful tenderness of a man who wants to be forgiven for some perceived wrong doing. Logan is a sensitive soul and just as inexperienced in all of this as she is. It’s part of what she loves about him, but also something she needs to be careful with. She’s doing a shitty job of that today.

It’s only then, after she’s finished berating herself for being closed off, that she realizes the word love made it into her mental vocabulary. It’s almost as frightening as everything else chasing her but it isn’t much of a secret either. If she’s being honest with herself, she might admit that she’s loved him before this moment, that it’s grown slow and steady until she can’t quite remember that brief part of her life after waking up on the road when shedidn’tlove him.

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