“And Sloane would have been fine with that?”
“I wouldn’t have cared either way,” he said. “I didn’t even find out she was sick until after she was gone, Hanna.”
Hanna filled the pot with water and dumped an ocean’s worth of salt into it, twisting the knob on Milo’s stove to high.
“I know,” she sighed. “It was fucked up. And it’s one of my biggest regrets, okay? I thought about calling a million times, but every time I pictured hearing Sloane in the background, I just couldn’t do it. I was so hurt, Lo. And besides that, I was drowning in my mom’s treatment. We had surgeries and radiation and chemo and ER trips and it took up two hundred percent of my brain capacity. And then it was—” she swallowed, her throat constricting. “And then it was over.”
She grated the block of cheese, pushing the anxiety twisting at her nerves into the metal. Logan rested a hand over her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. She could not look at him. She knew he was crying. She always knew when he cried. “For all of it.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she managed. “For most of it.”
Logan laughed, sputtering beside her, the release enough to bring their heads above water.
“I worry about you, Hanna. I don’t know how you managed all of it.”
“Not well,” she admitted, adding a handful of red pepper flakes to her pan. “I’m trying to untangle my life now, but to quote Milo, I’m a fucking mess.”
Logan frowned. “He’s probably helpful with all of this, huh?”
She nodded.
“That’s good. Well, not good. I wish neither of you had to go through it. But it’s good you have someone to talk to.”
Logan fell silent for a moment while she worked on her sauce.
“Is that… all you’re doing with him?”
She froze, the tingle of anger flickering back to life. So close.
“Is that any of your business?”
“I guess that’s my answer,” Logan snorted.
Hanna rolled her eyes. She should never have let her guard down with him.
“Milo and I are just friends, not that I owe you an explanation.”
“Just… tread lightly, Hanna. Okay?”
She reached behind him, pulling salt and pepper mills from the back of the counter.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means what it means,” he said, gesturing broadly.
“Insightful,” she muttered. “Leave it to you to have an opinion on my friendships.”
“I’m just warning you. I’ve known Milo a really long time.” He ducked his eyes to hers, holding them for a beat too long.
She waved her spoon at him. “Your concern is noted, but unnecessary, okay?”
“Okay,” he relented.
“I’ll see you later?” It was the easiest way to dismiss him.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Logan didn’t move right away, debating something. He leaned over, pulling her into a lightning-quick hug, so fast she hadn’t even processed it by the time he released her and dipped out of the kitchen.
