I felt my cheeks go warm at his open appreciation. “I should be thanking you for an incredible night. It was wonderful.”
He took my hand in his. “You’rewonderful.”
And for that moment, despite the stress of the call and the post-nuptial agreement weighing at the back of my mind, everything in my life felt sort of perfect. I was on a freaking yacht in the middle of the ocean under sunny skies with an incredible man staring at me wearing a goofy grin.
Asmittengoofy grin.
And Noah? Despite the tearful call, he was improving every day. If we kept up on the same trajectory, he’d be more than ready to face school by the time fall came. Healing was a moving target, but I could sense that Noah was well on his way to finding balance.
The realization hit me like a thunderbolt, and I was flooded with happiness and worry at the same time.
Because at some point, Logan and Noah’s life would settle into a stable equilibrium. The two of them would get past the churn of grief and go back to the normalcy of daily life.
And that would make me unnecessary.
I mean, it was easy to assume that Logan had genuine affection for me. But I’d learned the hard way that relationships came with expectations. Our partnership stemmed from my work with Noah; if I hadn’t been able to reach him, Logan never would’ve hired me, and then he wouldn’t have taken me for the celebratory night out, or fallen into bed with me.
It didn’t matter what our chemistry was like; the core of our relationship was my ability to help his son. I wasusefulto him. For now, anyway.
Once the old Noah was back, where would that leave me? I didn’t want to assume that whatever was happening between us was conditional, but I knew firsthand what happened when I overstayed my welcome. I felt the shift with friends, when having me crash on their couch started to become a little inconvenient in spite of my efforts to help with chores and take up as little space as possible. And of course, I’d been through it with my ex, who considered me his live-in support staff. I was useful to a point, then easily discarded.
Logan was back on his phone, shifting the rest of his day to accommodate our trip home. I reminded myself that for now, there was plenty for me to do. Once we got back to the house, I’d swoop in to help calm Noah down, and everything would be fine, for at least a little while longer.
Because being useful was my lot in life.
22
LOGAN
Lunch at my father’s place felt uncharacteristically chaotic in the best possible way. We were there to pack the house up, of course, but it was nice coming here, meeting with everyone like this.
It was even nicer with Nina here.
Maybe it was because the ladies were all in high spirits over the latest Scarlett Rush album release, and their giggly vibes were even impacting baby Sophia, who kept agreeing with whatever they said in high-pitched screams. Or it could’ve been due to Harrison letting Noah try a new flight simulator game on his phone that had the two of them cheering every few minutes.
My dad watched it all from the head of the table, beaming. It had been a long time since the halls of our house echoed with so much laughter, and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he was enjoying it.
It made me happy and melancholy at the same time. We were nearing the end.
The move was why we were all once again gathered together. We were still boxing up and throwing out decades of memories and mementos. It was slow going, admittedly, because of all the time we spent reminiscing about the good old days whenever a knickknack triggered a memory.
I glanced down the table to where Nina was seated between Emilia and Gwen. She fit in effortlessly. Of course, they’d welcomed her with open arms—my brothers had found themselves incredible women—but they didn’t deserve all of the praise. Nina found a way to relate to everyone she met. It didn’t matter if it was a VIP on board or the porter whose job was to deliver bags to cabins, I had seen Nina connect with all walks of life with ease.
“Hey, folks, can we talk about division of labor for the day?” my father said in a loud voice. “As nice as this lunch has been, I know you’re all busy, and there’s still plenty to do today.”
Everyone quieted and focused on him.
“Today is important,” he began. “We need to take care of your mother’s dressing room and office.”
We all went silent.
My parents each had dressing areas off of their bedroom. When Mom died, my father had simply closed the door to my mom’s wing and never opened it again. The staff kept it tidy, but it was essentially a time capsule, filled with her things as she’d left them.
“Are you…are you going to help too?” Drew asked.
Dad’s mouth went tight as he shook his head. “I prefer to remember the way things used to be. I trust all of you to makethe right decisions. Before we get to the ‘keep or throw’ stage, I’d like the ladies to determine if there are any items in her closet that they’d be interested in for themselves. She has quite a collection of couture, which you’re welcome to go through. Claim whatever you want.”
I noticed his use of present tense. My mom lived on in his heart.
