“We’ll be up in a minute,” Hanna said to Sara, releasing her hand as they stopped in the apartment lobby.
Milo tapped her hip and slipped behind her. “See ya, roomie.”
Hanna waited for them to disappear before she turned to Logan, the nerves in her stomach tightening at a myriad of things. Sharing an apartment with Milo, being alone with Logan—it was all too much.
In the Uber home, she realized that she was actually enjoying herself in the city, and she wasn’t about to let Logan mess that up for her.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” Hanna said, folding her arms and leaning against the wall in the apartment lobby. “I’m tired of being angry with you.”
“I’m tired of you being angry with me, too,” Logan joked. He added as her eyes flared, “Not that you don’t have valid reasons.”
“Sara mentioned something about your job?” She bit back the urge to ask about Sloane.
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, I wasn’t doing well in New York.”
“I’m sorry.”
Logan chewed on the edge of his thumb. “I think it was too much change. You, Lisa…”
Hanna flinched.
“I just have some shit to figure out.”
She drew in a slow breath, trying to calm the storm in her chest at just hearing him say her name.
“It was really fucked up hearing about it from Matthew,” Logan whispered. She wrapped her arms around her chest, the cold shiver running over her spine stinging as it settled between her ribs. “I know I hurt you, Hanna, but that was cruel?—”
“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” she said, her voice hollow.
“But you did hurt me, so where does that leave us?”
“It leaves us nowhere,” she said. “Can’t we just move on?” She knew even as it left her lips that it simply wasn’t possible, but what if just that one time the universe granted her the ability to cast spells?
“That’s not how it works. You can’t just sweep all of that under the rug and hope it doesn’t come back.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn, Hanna, you know that?” Logan pushed off from the wall, heading for the elevator. “I can’t even talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Then don’t,” Hanna said, throwing her hands up and pressing the call button. The door slid open and she stepped on, annoyed that they had to ride up three floors of painful silence.
He didn’t want to smooth things over. He wanted to punish her for doing what she had to do to survive. Logan would never understand the agony she went through, completely alone, and it wasn’t on her to explain. She tapped her foot, lightning building in her muscles as she bit back the worst kind of tears—angry ones—and she gripped the edge of her shirt. As soon as the door opened, she stomped off, leaving Logan to find his own way to Matty and Sara’s.
Milo was waiting at the kitchen counter when she got to his apartment, and he watched her chest heave with a rage she'd never given space to.
Hanna dumped her shoes and bag at the door, the strap tangling in her hair and yanking on the strands.
“Fuck,” she hissed, her skin on fire. She fussed with it for another second, only pulling the knot in her stomach into a tighter mess.
“Hanna,” Milo murmured, grabbing her purse strap and gently untangling it from her hair. She pushed him away, shaking her hands to dispel the pain building in her veins.
“Sorry,” she muttered, smoothing her hair and shirt.
“Don’t apologize.” Milo hung the bag on the hook beside the front door. “You okay?”
“No,” she laughed. She was not okay, he knew she wasn’t, everyone knew she wasn’t. Logan’s face burned in her mind, the pain written between the lines as he levied his grievances. The worst part about what he said was he was right. It had been cruel of her. She’d had every opportunity to tell him what was going on, and she’d been too angry, too scared to call him.
She’d wanted him to hurt the way she did, and she knew it, which was bad enough. But the fact that he knew it?
