I’d had a childhood full of getting kicked out of places. While Mom bounced from job to job, transplanting us from town to town, we spent way too many nights on friends’ couches or cots or even in sleeping bags on someone’s floor. And no matter how good I tried to be—no matter how carefully I tidied up after myself, or how quiet and respectful I was, or how often I pitched in to fold laundry, wash dishes, look after the other kids in the house—the day always came when our welcome wore out and we were shown the door. The whole scenario had played out more times than I could count.
Every time, it made me feel like trash. But this was so much worse. This made me feel likepoison. Like Logan truly believed that Noah, who I’d only ever wanted to help, had to be protected from me. And the man making me feel like that was the one I’d started to…to…well.
Whatever I’d been feeling for him, I’d clearly been fooling myself if I’d thought we were building something lasting. Something real. Who knew I was this good at PR? I’d done such a bang-up job of selling our fake relationship I’d actually started to believe it myself.
But now, I’d seen the light. Everything I thought I understood about the man came crashing down. I wanted to kick myself because my initial instincts about Logan had been correct.
If only I’d listened to them.
“So really, you want me to pack and leave? Right now?”
“I do,” he answered quickly.
Such a cruelty to use the two words the world associated with weddings. My heart constricted in my chest, but I forced myself to hold my head high. No tears, no weakness. If he could end what we’d shared with a steely expression, so could I.
“Fine,” I replied flatly. “I need to say goodbye to Noah first.”
I started to walk past him, legs shaking, but he stepped in front to block me, like a human wall.
“That’s not a good idea.”
No. He couldn’t be serious.
“But Logan,” I protested, taking a half step backward. “Me leaving is going to be a disruption in itself, but doing it without saying goodbye? Don’t you realize how hard that would be on him? Every single childhood development study will back me up when I say that disappearing without formally marking the transition is aterribleidea. He’s formed an attachment to me and our routines. If you insist on me leaving without saying goodbye, the trust you’ve built up will be eroded. He won’t want to bond to his next caretaker.”
Just saying the words hurt. Would his next caretaker be another of many?
“I know what’s best for my son.”
The words bubbled up before I could stop them. “Do you, Logan? Because it was looking pretty dicey before I came into the picture. I mean, youlosthim on the ship, remember?”
He recoiled. It was a low blow that he totally deserved in this moment.
“And who did you call when he had that meltdown on board? Oh, that’s right.Me.” I slapped my chest to try to bully myself out of the tears that were threatening to fall. “But okay, sure,you’rethe expert.”
We stared at one another, each full of hurt too huge to process. How had we wound up here?
Logan didn’t budge, still standing firmly between me and the hallway that led to Noah’s room. “I’ll have a driver ready to take you?—”
“Don’t bother,” I cut him off. “I can take care of myself.”
“You don’t have to be stubborn, Nina.”
A sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh erupted from my throat. I never signed any kind of stupid agreement. I could drag him into court tomorrow and make his life a living hell…probably end up with a fat settlement on top of that.
But then I would prove him right, and I would be damned if I gave him that kind of satisfaction.
“You’re so lucky that I’m not actually the type of person you’re accusing me to be,” I spat.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I snorted. “Nothing. Give me fifteen minutes to pack my things—just the stuff I brought with me, mind you—and I’ll go.”
I stormed off, relieved to get away from his icy stare.
The life I thought I was building had disappeared in an instant, but all I could think about was the injured little boy who was about to wake up to a world he didn’t recognize. And there wasn’t a thing I could do to help.
26
