“Have you made your travel plans yet?” he asks.
“Yes, my flight’s on Saturday. I couldn’t get one before then.”
“I could drop you off at the train station that day if you like.”
“Thanks, but I can grab a cab or an Uber.”
“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” He tugs his blazer from the back of the chair and then slips into it. Maybe he’s going downstairs for a drink, or back to the Italian restaurant for a decent dinner. Against my will, I feel a strange urge to go, too. To be on a car ride with him again, driving through the dark.
“How come you’ll be in Cartersville this weekend?” I ask as we both take a few steps toward the door.
“I have a meeting late Saturday afternoon with the guy who designed theMuseoffice, so I’ll head back to the city on Sunday. And then take it from there.”
“Take what? Is there still stuff to do with the college?”
“Nah, that’s all pretty much wrapped up. I meant dealing with everything else.” He waves a hand in the air. “You know, all the stuff we had to face here. This probably sounds a little lame, but I might look up the grief counselor I went to years ago and see if she’s still practicing.”
“Grief counselor?” I say, taken aback.
“Yeah. I knew this week wouldn’t be easy, but it’s been worse than I thought. I know for you, too.”
“Yes, but wait ... When did you go to a grief counselor? Not when we were together?”
“No, not then—though I should have. You kept urging me to see the woman you’d been going to.” He pats the breast pocket of his blazer as if looking for something but then drops his arm, still empty-handed. “It was later.”
I’m stunned by his admission. Had he finally realized that grief was something that couldn’t be outrun?
“What made you change your mind?”
“To be honest, the double loss. You and Mel both gone in barely more than a year.” He scoffs as if mocking himself. “I actually had one of those panic attacks that makes you think you’re in full fucking cardiac arrest, and it was a nurse in the ER who convinced me to finally get some help.”
For a few seconds I stand there silently, trying to digest all of this.
“I wasn’t very kind then, was I?” I say finally. “I should have made some attempt to understand about the infidelity—so that we could have parted on better terms.”
Or—not parted at all? God, am I really asking myself that question after so many years? I certainly didn’t ask it back then. I was too shattered and heartsick and furious to listen to any language of grief but the one I spoke myself.
“That means a lot,” he says, finding my eyes with his. He inhales deeply, steeling himself, it seems. “I love you, Bree. I’ve never stopped.”
Stunned, I hear my breath hitch. For a few moments we stand motionless, looking directly at each other. Then Logan reaches out, making me blink, and cups my face with his hand. I feel a rush of desire, more than muscle memory this time. Seconds later, we’re kissing passionately.
I want this, I realize. I’m about to betray my partner, and yet I’m not pulling away. Maybe it’s simply my despair taking over, hoping for an escape on the last of these four awful days—with the one person in the universe whose feelings right now are close to my own—but thinking that doesn’t change my mind.
Chapter 25
The next morning, a faint light from the window eases my eyes open. I blink a couple of times until I’m fully awake, and then I remember: I slept with Logan last night. I’m lying on my right side, and as the seconds pass, I become aware of his breathing behind me.
Somewhere, someplace, I sense guilt on the prowl, roaming room by room, but it hasn’t found me yet. I’ve cheated on Bas, a man I know I love, but what I feel—at least for now—is only a lingering elation from last night, from sex that was intoxicatingly brand-new and familiar at the same time, as if I’d gone to bed with a stranger who’d studied my body in a past life and knew everything it liked.
And if I’m being honest with myself, it was more than good sex. There was relief, the kind from having all your saddest, darkest places known without having to explain them. Elation, too, from being allowed entry to a land I’d been banished from and never thought I’d see again.
I hear Logan stir behind me. I have no idea what his reaction will be this morning, but I might as well find out. I roll onto my back and turn my head. His eyes are open. In fact, he’s staring at my face.
“Morning,” he says, smiling softly.
“Morning.”
After wrestling his arm from beneath the sheet, he reaches up and smooths my hair.
