Page 30 of Rhythm Of Redemption

Lou's curiosity persisted; her desire to understand burning within her. “Was he like that with anyone else? Why did he pick on you like that?” she enquired, her voice gentle yet filled with determination.

“He thought I was being lazy and didn't try hard enough,” Logan explained, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “It wasn't until years later that I found out I was dyslexic.” Lou's eyebrows furrowed as she listened to Logan's story. “I was recording a speech for an awards ceremony, but I was tired and kept fumbling over the words. To cover my embarrassment, I made a stupid joke about being dyslexic, as you do, then later, someone from the production team, whose son had dyslexia, approached me and suggested I got tested.”

“And did you?” she asked curiously.

Logan paused, his eyes wandering off into the distance. “Not immediately,” he confessed. “I was aware of dyslexia, of course, but I didn’t know much about it. And since I was thirty-five at the time, I assumed that if I had it, I would have known by then.”

“So, what prompted you to get tested?” she asked.

“You know what it’s like. Once you hear something, it suddenly seems to be everywhere. It appeared on TV and radio fundraisers. It felt as if the universe was sending me a message or some sort of sign. So, I did a bit of research on Google and discovered that dyslexia was far more complex than just words jumping around on a page. The more I delved into it, the more everything made sense. My struggles with spelling, coordination, etc. Consequently, I scheduled an appointment with a Clinical Psychologist who confirmed that I was dyslexic.”

“And did it change things for you, putting a label on it?” she enquired further.

“I didn't see it as labelling, as such. But getting a diagnosis was pretty liberating. All my life, people had constantly called me stupid, lazy, or difficult, and you know how it is when you hear something often enough, you start to believe it. So, when I discovered I was none of those things and that the root cause lay in the way my brain processed information, absolving me of any blame, I suppose, in some way, I felt vindicated. The psychologist also informed me that many people with dyslexia possess heightened creativity and excel at thinking outside the box because of the unique way in which their brains work. They perceive things differently.”

“Interesting,” she mused, pursing her lips. Like many people, she had heard of dyslexia, as well as other common conditions, such as autism or ADHD. However, her knowledge about them was limited to what she might have come across in newspapers or online, without paying much attention to it.

As she wiped down the surfaces, her thoughts raced while Logan finished drying the dishes. “By the way, about what you mentioned earlier regarding Dani, do you really think she might be dyslexic?” she enquired.

“Hey, I'm no expert,” he replied, holding up his palms. “I simply made an assumption based on a few things I've noticed in myself,” he replied.

“But wouldn't the school have noticed if there were any issues?” she questioned, surprised at herself for seeking parenting advice from him.

“It depends, I suppose. Children can become adept at coping with it, developing their own coping strategies,” he explained. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Actually, I'm actively involved with a local foundation that focuses on supporting children with learning difficulties. That's how I know these things.”

Lou began to realise that there was much more to this man than initially met the eye. Beneath his charming and often superficial exterior lay a completely different person—a warm and caring man who wanted to use his own experiences to raise awareness about the condition and prevent others from enduring what he had gone through.

“When you say they adopt coping strategies, what do you mean?” She was intrigued to learn more.

“They might avoid situations like public speaking, such as reading aloud in the classroom. Some use humour or become defensive as a distraction. Perhaps they invent an illness to avoid tests and or exams. But, as I mentioned, I'm not an expert,” he explained.

“But surely teachers are trained to identify these issues?” she questioned further.

“Surprisingly, no. Not unless they’ve undergone specific training in this field, although some teachers may recognise that a child has problems. But with larger class sizes, increased paperwork, and all the bureaucracy, teachers often find themselves with less time available for actual teaching compared to, let's say, ten or fifteen years ago.”

Each revelation about him brought more surprises. She began to see him in a whole new light, an incredibly attractive light.

In a surge of impulsive desire, Lou found herself leaning forward, propelled by an undeniable urgency. Their lips collided in a fervent embrace, unleashing a surge of electricity that seemed to charge the very air around them. It felt as if the universe itself had conspired to bring them together in this intoxicating moment.

As their lips met, the outside world faded into insignificance. Everything else became a mere blur as they surrendered themselves to the alluring rush of their connection. It was as if a magnetic force enveloped them, consuming their senses entirely. In this suspended moment, time seemed to stand still, captured within the intensity of their fervour. They yielded to the enchanting rhythm of their kiss, delving deep into the abyss of their concealed desires and unspoken longings.

Breaking away, Lou's eyes locked with his, a flicker of desire illuminating her gaze. Without uttering a single word, she reached out and gently took his hand, a silent invitation for him to follow her upstairs. The air crackled with a potent blend of desire and anticipation, creating an irresistible magnetism between them. In that charged moment, she became the catalyst.

Chapter fourteen

Sleep slipped through Lou's grasp as Logan tiptoed back to his room, leaving her restless and unable to settle. She reached for her laptop, unable to getLogan’s comment about Dani being dyslexic out of her mind, as she scoured the Internet for answers, piecing together information like a puzzle.

A wave of understanding washed over her, connecting the dots of Dani's behaviour, spelling struggles, and the jumbled sentences she sometimes wrote. It was as if her thoughts raced ahead of her hands, causing a mismatch between her mind and her writing. Lou had never truly grasped the complexities of dyslexia until now—the varying degrees of difficulty and the hidden challenges it posed.

Exploring various websites, Lou stumbled upon some eye-opening examples that showed how people with dyslexia might perceive text differently to those who didn’t have it. It was a humbling revelation that filled her with admiration for those who faced these daily battles. She couldn't help but wonder: Was this the world Dani saw? Could this be the silent struggle she had been wrestling with all this time?

Lou leaned back, realising she might be getting ahead of herself. Without concrete evidence of Dani's dyslexia or any learning condition, she couldn't be certain. Maybe she was simply searching for reasons to justify her daughter's apparent lack of effort or motivation in school.

Guilt washed over her as she reflected on her failure to recognise Dani's struggles earlier. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, magnifying her frustration. It felt like yet another item on her long list of parenting screw-ups. Doubts gnawed at her, questioning why neither Dani's teachers nor she herself had noticed the signs. Logan's explanation about the lack of teacher training shed some light on this, but the nagging thought persisted—why had no one delved into the root cause of Dani's recent behaviour? Driven by her mounting concerns, she decided to speak with the headmistress as soon as possible.

Lou's anxiety spiked as she repeatedly called Mrs Ellis’s number. Every call met with the annoying sound of voicemail. Ignoring the nagging suspicion that she was avoiding her, she considered reaching out to the school's receptionist instead, hoping she’d pass on a message. An hour dragged by with no reply from Mrs Ellis, pushing Lou to take matters into her own hands and deal with the problem face-to-face at the school.

Half an hour later, Lou stood at the front door, ready to leave for her confrontation with Mrs Ellis. But just as she yanked open the door, Detective Russell appeared, an unwelcome presence akin to a pesky mosquito on a hot summer night. Irritation washed over her as she grappled with the detective's untimely arrival. His unexpected intrusion threatening to disrupt her plans, postponing her departure and stoking concerns she desperately wanted to keep at bay.

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