Page 97 of The All-Inclusive

“Love you, too, Mom.” I stoop down to hug her, conscious of how fragile she feels in my arms. “Sleep well.”

“You, too.” She starts back toward the bedroom, then turns by the door of the coat closet. “Trent, honey?”

“Yeah?”

“I look forward to meeting Logan one day.”

“I—”

“Good night, baby.” Lifting her hand, she turns and walks back to her room.

Holy shit.

Did that just happen?

Did I finally speak my truth and the world didn’t crumble? It doesn’t seem possible, and yet—here I am.

And meanwhile, Logan and Sara are three-thousand miles away.

God, the look in her eyes when I left. I can’t get it out of my head. Twice now, I’ve been such a raging asshole to the girl who intended to stand by me in sickness and health, for richer and poorer. We’re already married, as far as that goes.

And Logan? Dear God—I hurt him as well. Is there any hope of coming back from that?

As my mom’s bedroom light flickers off, I know I need to try. I’ve said a lot tonight, but I’ve got more to say. And I need to start with Logan.

Heading into the dining room, I sit down at the old, battered table. If I keep my voice low, I won’t wake Mom. If she’s still awake, well—I’m okay with her hearing. I’m about to be bravehere, so she may as well know I’m a man who knows how to fix his mistakes.

Logan picks up on the first ring. “Frogman? Is that really you?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” I draw a deep breath. “Is Sara there?”

“She’s getting a massage.”

“Oh.” I briefly wonder if it’s one of those massages like Eve got. The kind where a consort touches her intimately. It’s none of my business, and yet?—

“She’s at the spa.” He chuckles. “It’s a regular spa with no happy endings.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But I thought you’d like to know.”

“Thanks.” God, I’m screwing this up. “It’s you I wanted to talk to anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Clearing my throat, I decide where to start. “Thanks for setting my mom up with those resources.”

“She spoke with my mother?”

“She did. I think it helped.”

“Good. I’m really glad.”

Now what?

“Look,” I begin, “I’ll just say it. I’m sorry. I was wrong when I thought that I needed to choose between you guys and family, but even if I did, I–I want to choose you guys.” God, this is hard. “I know it won’t look like I ever imagined my life or Sara’s. Our lives together. But there’s room in that vision for more than two people.”

There’s a long, pregnant pause from Logan. I hear ice cubes rattling around in a glass and I wonder what he’s drinking. “I’m listening,” he says. “What are you saying exactly?”

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