Before she could respond, Logan was already turning toward the elevator. “I’ll call you,” he called over his shoulder as the doors slid open, the words a promise left hanging in the air.
Ada Mae stood frozen for a moment, watching the elevator close. Then she sat back down, shaking her head as she muttered, “What the hell is going on with him?” But even as she sighed, she began typing, searching for flights to Tel-Aviv.
Logan tore through the building’s underground garage like a man possessed, his chest heaving as he threw himself into the car and sped out onto the street. His hands gripped the wheel tightly, his mind spinning faster than the tires beneath him. On the way, he called the realtor, his voice rushed and breathless.
“I’m going away for a few weeks,” he started, barely pausing to let her respond. “Please arrange for my stuff to be moved into the new apartment. I’ll make sure you have access.”
The realtor, professional as always, agreed immediately and told him she could meet him at his house in an hour with movers. Logan thanked her, ending the call before she could ask any more questions.
When he got home, Logan headed directly to his room and retrieved a black, empty suitcase. His movements were frantic, almost desperate, as he transferred clothes from suitcases and half-packed boxes, jamming them into the empty bag without much thought. Shirts, pants, shoes—it didn’t matter what went in or whether it made sense. His mind was a whirlwind, teetering on the edge of panic and hope, and he couldn’t focus on anything but the looming reality of seeing Adrian again.
Pausing for a moment, Logan sat heavily on the bed, his head dropping into his hands as he closed his eyes. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst, each beat a chaotic reminder of the fear and excitement coursing through him.
“Breathe, Logan,” he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to take slow, shallow inhales. But even as he tried to steady himself, the thought ofleaving things as they were, of not going, clawed at his chest like a physical pain. The idea was unbearable, nauseating.No fucking way,he thought bitterly, shoving the fear aside.
He stood abruptly, his hands shaking as he resumed packing. Even as anxiety gnawed at him, the thought of seeing Adrian again sent a flicker of warmth through him, a tentative sense of relief that soothed some of the pain still lodged deep in his chest. He didn’t know what he would say, or how Adrian would react, but the idea of being near him again—of hearing his voice, seeing his face—was enough to keep him moving.
When the realtor arrived with the movers, Logan met them at the door. Together, they quickly loaded the few remaining items into the van. His belongings had already dwindled to almost nothing, the house more a reminder of what he’d left behind than a home. The realtor promised to email him once everything was set in the new apartment. She shook his hand with a polite smile before stepping away, already answering another call as she left.
Logan didn’t linger.
The house—once a monument to everything his father wanted him to be—looked exactly the same. Perfect, polished, staged. The magazine-ready furniture his father and Sandy had chosen sat untouched, as if waiting for a version of Logan who had never existed.
Even after packing up all his things, he realized he had barely left a mark. He hadn’t touched the surfaces, hadn’t claimed the space. Nothing here had ever belonged to him.
The house no longer felt suffocating, just hollow. A relic of a life that had never truly been his.
Without a second thought, he locked the door behind him for the last time and called a cab.
The ride to the airport was a blur. His stomach churned with nerves, his thoughts flipping between dread and hope. His heart felt as fragile as glass, trembling with every possibility, every fear. But he couldn’t stop now. He had to see Adrian. He had to try.
When Ada Mae texted him his flight details, Logan couldn’t help but smile faintly.What would I do without her?He thought. She’d asked if he needed her to arrange a hotel, but Logan told her no. He could handle it himself. He asked her instead to keep an eye on emails from the realtor and to arrange for someone to drive his car to the new apartment once everything was finalized. Ada Mae, ever efficient, simply replied:
Consider it done.
As the cab glided to a halt at the airport, a tumultuous wave of terror intertwined with exhilaration surged through Logan’s veins. He grasped his suitcase tightly, exchanging a few bills with the driver before stepping into the enveloping anticipation of the terminal. Each footfall echoed like a heartbeat, propelling him deeper into the realm of the unknown. His heart quivered, caught in a fierce dance between trepidation and resolute determination. Yet, one truth shone brightly amidst the chaos; Logan was destined to find Adrian. He had no choice but to pursue this quest.
November 19, 2020—Tel-Aviv,Israel—Two Days Later
AsLogansteppedontothe vibrant streets of Tel Aviv, the burden of the past two years crashed upon him, threatening to extinguish the flickering flame of hope that warmed his insides. He longed to gaze into Adrian’s whisky-colored eyes, yearning for the moment when, if the heavens, the sea, and the currents conspired in his favor, he might glimpse Adrian’s radiant smile. A pang of regret hit Logan for not buying a new camera; he wished to capture Adrian in a photograph that he could etch into his very memory. He craved to preserve the vivid image of those mesmerizing eyes, the joyful grin revealing perfect teeth, and his sun-kissed skin, ensuring that this beautiful memory would never fade away from him.
The twenty-hour flight, compounded by the endless hours spent waiting at the airport, had left him physically drained. His head throbbed, his limbs ached, and yet his exhaustion was eclipsed by the storm brewing inside him. Every breath felt heavier as he stepped into a world that was both foreign and achingly familiar, a world where Adrian existed.
It was midafternoon, and the sun bathed the city in a golden glow, but Logan barely noticed. His surroundings blurred as he hurried through the terminal, his focus sharp and singular. The bustling crowds, the chatter of travelers, the sunlight filtering through the glass windows—none of it mattered. His entire being was pulled forward by a single thread: Adrian. As if his heart had caught the faint susurrus of Adrian’s soul and moved toward it, certain that redemption waited at the end, certain that its long echoing threnody had at last found an answering ear.
Outside, Logan climbed into the first cab he saw, gripping his phone tightly as he showed the driver the address Mr. Boyed had sent. The investigator, ever professional, had included the address in both English and Hebrew. The driver glanced at it and nodded, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.
“Do you know where this is?” Logan asked, his voice tight.
“Yes,” the driver replied, his eyes lingering on Logan for a moment.
Logan swallowed. “Can you take me to a hotel nearby? Please.”
The driver nodded.
Logan couldn’t quite put his finger on why he needed to stop at a hotel first. Maybe it was the nerves, an urgent need to compose himself before confronting the man who had dominated his thoughts for the past two years. Or perhaps it was the simple practicality of it: the idea of standing before the love of his life, luggage in tow, reeking of airplane air after over twenty grueling hours of travel, wasn’t exactly how he wanted their reunion to begin.
As the cab rolled through the streets of Tel Aviv, Logan closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. His stomach churned with a mix of nausea and anticipation. His hands trembled in his lap, but within the chaos, there was a flicker of something else. Hope. The thought of seeing Adrian again sent a jolt of electricity through him, a spark that made him feel alive despite the chaos. He couldn’t suppress the faint smile that tugged at his lips.He’s here. I’m going to see him.
