Page 14 of Sticks & Serpents

“Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?” A cheerful waiter approached, his smile warm and genuine.

“Just a water, please,” I replied, forcing a smile in return.

He nodded and disappeared back toward the bar. I told myself Logan was just running late. I had been late before; it happened. Nothing to worry about.

Usually I texted out of courtesy, but maybe Logan wasn't the same way. Which was fine.

As I glanced around the room, laughter erupted from a nearby table. A group of friends raised their glasses, their joy echoing off the walls and reminding me of how alive everything felt here.

The waiter returned with my water, placing it gently on the table.

“Are you ready to order?” he asked, glancing at the menu still untouched in front of me.

“I’m waiting for someone,” I said, hoping it sounded casual rather than like I was already anxious.

“Got it! Just let me know when you're ready.” He offered another smile before walking away.

I stared into my glass, watching the condensation bead on the outside as if it held all the answers. Time slipped by slowly. Ten minutes passed without any sign of Logan.

Then ten turned into twenty.

My stomach tightened as my mind raced through possibilities—what if he forgot? What if something came up? My pulse quickened as the room’s lively atmosphere faded into a dull hum around me.

Twenty turned into thirty.

Why wouldn't he text me?

Was this some kind of joke?

I took a sip of water, but it felt heavy in my throat. Each tick of the clock echoed louder in my ears until they drowned out everything else—the laughter, clinking glasses, and even the low murmur of conversations buzzing around me.

Where was he?

I leaned back in my chair, glancing at the entrance one more time, searching for that familiar figure with an easy grin that seemed to put everything right. But there was nothing but faces blending together—none belonging to him.

I glanced at my phone again, irritation creeping into my chest. Logan wasn’t the type to flake. He had seemed genuinely excited about tonight.

I took a deep breath, pushing back the wave of disappointment threatening to wash over me. I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was caught up in traffic or something came up last minute.

I hit the call button, my heart racing as it rang. One ring, two rings... I held my breath. The third ring echoed in my ears before it went to voicemail.

“Hey, Logan. It’s Holly,” I said when the beep finally came, forcing a casual tone despite the nerves prickling at my skin. “Just checking in... if you’re still coming?”

Silence answered me as I hung up, biting my lip to keep from overthinking it all.

After a moment of hesitation, I sent a quick text:

Hey! Just wondering where you are? Hope everything’s okay!

I stared at the screen, willing it to light up with his name—just something to ease this growing knot in my stomach. But nothing happened.

A wave of frustration surged through me, and I glanced around the bar again. The chatter felt louder now; laughter echoed like a cruel reminder that I was alone here waiting for someone who might never show up.

Logan had been so different from Damien—so steady and kind—but even with those thoughts running through my mind, anxiety twisted inside me like a coiled snake. I couldn’t shake off that lingering feeling of being watched.

I tried calling him again, hoping for an answer this time. It rang once more—twice—then clicked over to voicemail again.

“Seriously?” My voice dropped low as I glared at my phone in disbelief. I typed out another message:

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