But that wasn’t it at all.
She had sacrificed us for me.
“What do I do then?” I muttered, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Brigham sighed, but there was something knowing in his expression. “You gotta figure that part out.” He grabbed his towel and turned for the door, throwing a look over his shoulder. “But if I were you, I’d be hungry tonight for diner food.”
My head snapped up.
Something’s happening at the restaurant.
I stood, the weight in my chest shifting from guilt to urgency. “Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Brigham gave me a slow nod. “You owe me, Madsen. I will ask for a stupid, ridiculous favor, and you have to say yes because once Michelle finds out I told you, she will stab me in my sleep.” His grin was back now, sharp and knowing. “Good luck, man. You’re gonna need it.”
“You’ll be there?” I asked, already grabbing my bag.
“Hell yes.” Brigham grinned wider. “Shit is going down, and I want to see those assholes freak out.”
My stomach tightened.
“What’s going down? Tell me, Brigs.” My voice shook, and I didn’t even care.
Brigham simply smirked, backing toward the door.
“Support her. Believe her.”
Then he was gone, leaving me standing there, heart hammering, mind racing, stomach in knots.
If all the reasons I had left her were false, then I was a total and complete fucking idiot.
And I was about to find out just how bad I had messed this up.
* * *
The first thingI did was call Angela. I kept the details vague, not wanting to cause unnecessary panic, but the moment she heard the concern in my voice, she didn’t hesitate. She assured me the nursing home was locked down unless visitors properly identified themselves. That wasn’t enough. I offered to pay for extra security, anything to keep my mom safe.
Angela agreed without argument. Within the hour, there were three extra security guards stationed at the facility.
Problem one, fixed. Now on to Michelle.
Brigham’s hint about the diner hadn’t given me a timeline. Did I show up at five? Lurk in the parking lot like a creep? Hide and watch from a distance like some lovesick idiot? God, I sounded pathetic. A man pushing thirty, stalking a woman like a high schooler with a crush. It was disgusting, and if Logan could hear the storm raging in my head, he’d probably punch me to shut me up.
I didn’t even have to ask. “What would you do?”
Logan let out a long, exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “Dude, I don’t know. Go to the diner. Wait in your car. Talk to her. Stop being a little bitch and do something instead of sitting here and talking my goddamn ear off.”
I scowled at him. “I thought you’d be supportive.”
“And I thought I told you to trust her, and maybe, just maybe, there were two sides to a story.” He gave me a pointed look, arms crossed. “Huh? I want to say I told you so, but it’s too soon, judging by your sour mood.”
I muttered something about kicking him out of my condo, but he ignored it.
I hesitated, debating for a second before I asked, “Want to come with me?”
Logan’s entire posture shifted. He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”
The immediate response put me on edge. “Why do you want to come?”
