Derek started. “What are you talking about?”
“Her mother still thought her ex-husband was the baby’s father until yesterday when I broke the unfortunate news to her,” Logan said bitterly. “I guess I can’t really blame her. From what I hear, her ex-husband was a saint if you don’t count his habit of screwing other women. Perfect job, perfect looks, perfect background.” He laughed, the sound holding little mirth. “Can you imagine what she would say? I accidentally got pregnant by a man who used to dumpster dive for supper.”
“Don’t do that to yourself, Loge.” Derek bent down, cleaning up the pieces of the bowl. “You’re successful. Hell, when I think of how you built your company from the ground up, it amazes me. Forget about the ex-husband. He’s an ex for a reason. There has to be an explanation for her not telling her parents.”
“There might be, but I don’t want to hear it.”
“Get me a trash bag, will you?” Derek continued to methodically pile the slivers of bowl into his free hand. “Don’t blow this. You finally have the opportunity to make yourself the life you’ve been wanting.”
Logan stilled in the midst of retrieving a bag from the cabinet behind him. Derek’s words hit a chord within him. All his life, from the time he’d been an unwanted kid juggled between foster homes, to the time he’d become a successful advertising executive, he’d wanted a family. The need to belong, to feel wanted and loved, had haunted him for as long as he could recall. Even now, he wanted it with a desperation that scared the hell out of him.
But he didn’t have to give in to it. Angry now, with himself as much as with Derek and Claire, he yanked the bag from the cabinet and tossed it at Derek. “You don’t have to clean this up, you know. It’s my mess.”
“I know,” Derek said reasonably, “but you’ve cleaned up my messes often enough.”
“True.” Logan bent too, his knees cracking loudly. A reminder that he was getting older every minute, too old to be alone. Or too old to chain himself to a woman who didn’t want him. He thought again of their week together. To him, it had been a rare slice of heaven on earth. To Claire, it had obviously been much less. Did she suffer him because he was the father of her child? Was she merely trying to make the best of a bad situation?
Just the thought of it made him feel sick. His hand convulsed on the shard of ceramic he’d just picked up, and he felt a brief pang of pain. Looking down, he realized he’d cut himself. Blood oozed from the cut and dripped down onto the white tiles.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Oh hell.” Derek shoved a wad of napkins at him. “Cover that up before I pass out.”
Logan obligingly pressed the napkins to the cut, wincing as pain shot through his hand. “What the hell am I going to do, Derek?”
“I suggest you apologize to Claire.” Derek finished cleaning the floor and stood. “But I have a feeling you’re going to have to work this one out on your own.”
That, Logan thought grimly, was precisely the problem.
By the time Claire reached Sophie’s house, both Sophie and Trevor were gone. A hastily scrawled note on the kitchen table revealed they had taken a carload of boxes to their new house. Utterly miserable, Claire grabbed a container of raspberry yogurt from the fridge and plopped into a chair. Maybe she’d been wrong thinking Logan could ever open up to her enough for it to make a difference. One day had erased a week’s gain. She had thought—so foolishly—that they could overcome the obstacles between them.
But Logan didn’t want to meet her halfway. He didn’t want to trust in her.
She dug into her yogurt with grim relish, trying desperately to distract herself from the fact that her life was falling apart. Halfway through her third spoonful, the doorbell rang. Convinced that Logan had followed her, she abandoned her yogurt and the kitchen, nearly running to the front door in her eagerness. Maybe he was willing to talk it over with her after all. Had he come to apologize?
A smile curving her lips, she threw the front door open and froze. The smile slipped, surprise getting the best of her. “Garrett.”
Her ex stood before her, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a sweater she’d never seen before. It seemed an odd thing to notice, but she couldn’t help it. Once, she’d known all the clothing in this man’s closet, had washed and folded and ironed it all. But now their lives had taken such different turns.
“Hi, Claire. I’m sorry to drop by like this, but…” His words trailed off as he peered down into her face. “Have you been crying?”
She thought of the blur that had been her drive home from Logan’s. Of how she’d pulled over three times to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. “No,” she lied. “What do you want, Garrett?”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I actually wanted to talk about some things before the divorce is finalized. Can I come inside?”
“Okay.” Claire stepped back, holding the door wide for him to enter. She ruthlessly quashed the feelings of disappointment rising inside her that it was Garrett crossing the threshold and not Logan. It was obvious that she would be far better off giving up on Logan Monroe.
When she and Garrett were seated opposite one another in the living room, Claire spoke first, needing to fill the awkward silence. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Our things.” Garrett looked even more uncomfortable than he had before. “We haven’t even talked about what you want and what I want, other than through our lawyers. I just wanted to sit down and talk things through.”
“I’m not really in the mood to divvy up our things.”
He leaned forward on the edge of the sofa, studying her intently. “Youhavebeen crying.”
She fought the urge to avert her face. “I haven’t.”
Garrett’s face darkened. “It’s him, isn’t it? Claire, you know that if there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it for you in a heartbeat. You don’t need to depend on him for anything.”
