Page 52 of Hypothetical Heart
“Do you think there’s a possibility for us to ever be something more?”
The moment of silence comes crashing down, and the only things I can hear are the thoughts swirling through my head, thinking of every time I envisioned Logan and I long term, or tried to tell him how I felt, or wondered if he felt the same way.
If anyone wanted to see the extent of how much I imagined everything happening between us, they could open upthe scrapbook of our childhoods to any page and see it written all over my face.
“Logan,” I sigh.
“If you need to lie, you can,” he says, and I know the only reason I don’t burst into tears is because I can’t see the look on his face.
Part of me feels like I should lie. That’s also the part of me that likes to believe that if something were to happen between us, it would have already.
Should I really risk something becoming forced by saying it’s all I think about?
Instead, I say, “I’ve spent my entire life adoring you, Logan.” It’s not a direct answer, but it’s inclination enough.
“I still remember promising you I’d marry you when we were seven.” It’s Logan’s way of answering the question without really answering it. In fact, it’s all he has to say.
“I do, too.” A tear slips down my cheek.
I also remember being in kindergarten, telling everyone that Logan was my husband. I’m not sure if he ever heard about that.
Logan turns the shower off, and I grab a towel, throwing it over the curtain at him before turning to the sink and splashing water in my face. I can’t let Logan see my face when he gets out.
He slides the curtain open, the towel wrapped around his waist. “And now you’ve almost seen my dick, so we must be getting somewhere,” he jokes, which makes me cringe.
“I didn’t see anything,” I tell him honestly.
His hands grab my shoulders from where he stands, towering behind me. “Are you just saying that because you’re embarrassed?”
“No, really, I didn’t see anything.”
He smirks. “Only because I stopped you.”
My cheeks flame and I can see how pink they turn in the mirror, but I don’t say anything. I’d rather we both forget this ever happened. My hands intertwine themselves around my back and then move back up to the hem of the towel I’m holding against my soaking clothes.
Logan immediately picks up on my anxious habits. “Everything’s fine, Win. I’m not mad.” Sincerity pours from him like a leaky faucet, and I’m the bowl it’s dropping into.
“I know.” It’s the word that constantly rings through me.
I know he wants what’s best for me.
I know he doesn’t look into things like I do.
I know this hurts him just as much as it hurts me, and yet there’s nothing either of us are going to do about it.
I know, I know, I know.
16
“Logan, can you come here for a second?” Mom calls from the kitchen, making me stop halfway up the staircase.
“Coming!” I yell, dropping my backpack on the steps. I make my way through the hall toward the kitchen, the smell of dinner prominent in the air.
“Hello, dear.” She smiles from where she stands at the sink as she dries her hands. “How was school?”
“It was good,” I reply, giving her a quick hug before hopping up onto the counter next to where she’s standing. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to ask about prom.”
