As I said, I’ve never been on the receiving end of his anger before.
“She’s your mother,” I whisper, and he growls, “And she is my daughter who you kept from me spitefully!”
I flinch at his harsh words.
It wasn’t out of spite, it was to protect her, to protect him.
“I loved you,” I choke, not looking at him, “I loved you that much I refused to come between you and your mama. I broke my own heart and ran to protect our daughter. I didn’t do it out of spite.”
He doesn’t say anything, and my tears fall as I drop my head to my knees as I bring them up, leaning my feet against the edge of the seat, and I try to control the sobs that want to release before electricity floats through me, and Logan gently wraps his hands around my ankles.
“Look at me,” he demands softly, but I shake my head.
I hate that I’ve hurt him, but I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us, for Aisling’s safety and now I’m second guessing myself like I have done for the past six years.
“Buttercup,” he rasps, and I slowly lift my head as I tremble, locking eyes with his. “I’m pissed,” he whispers, his eyes taking in my features, my bags and tension lines, “You ran from me without a word, you didn’t contact Granny, who was heartbroken.” I flinch, and he tightens his grip and chokes, “You’ve fucking destroyed me with the choices you made. Instead of talking to me, asking for my help, you ran, allowing your emotions to take over, and you’ve kept my daughter from me, taking away my chances to watch you grow, to feel her move, and see her be born. I missed everything, Jas, her first words, the first steps, everything, fuck, I’m a stranger to her all because of your choices, all because you didn’t trust me.”
“I did trust you,” I instantly protest, “I was trying to protect you.”
“And in doing so, you broke me,” he whispers, and I look away as a sob leaves me.
I thought I was doing the right thing.
“Daddy?” Aisling whispers, and I shake, crying silently as he moves over to our daughter.
I’m failing at everything. My job, my bills, my daughter, Logan, my choices, I’m failing and I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, like it’s suffocating me.
“You know who I am?” Logan asks softly and I look up to see him kneeling by Aisling’s bed, her eyes solely focused on him as she nods and then decides to mention, “Mama has pictures of you and her on the wall in the living room.” Logan tenses while Aisling, completely unaware of what she’s just admitted motions for him to move closer and he does before she whispers, “Would you let me keep a spider if I found one?”
Oh come on…
I silently groan and drop my head, feeling Logan’s eyes on me before I hear him ask, “What does Mama say when you find them?”
I look in time for Aisling, who is still a little groggy, admit, “That they need to be set free outside…”
Logan side-eyes me and mutters, “A lot better than them being squished on the wall,” and my heart flutters at the memory.
I hate spiders, I always have, and Logan always, always, protected me, but that might have been because I kept hitting them with a shoe on the wall.
Logan shakes his head before giving our daughter his whole attention and says, “Your mama is right, they need to be set free, it’s better for them, so they can live their life and move on.”
Aisling pouts, making him chuckle, and I can’t help but look more into his words as complete heartbreak, one I know I deserve, consumes me.
Does that mean he wants to set us free?
Is he moving on?
I look down at my knees and swallow hard as more tears fall.
It’s for the best, right?
This is what I wanted, this is what we both needed to keep us all safe, so it is for the best… It has to be.
Chapter 11
Tank – Present Day
I grunt as I lift up the pipe against Ace’s Harley, then grab the jack to stand beneath it so I can bolt it on, struggling to do the job on my own, my arm screaming at me with the weight of the metal, but I relish it, in the pain. I need a distraction.
