Istill hadn’t let go of her hand. My thumb moved on its own, brushing slow circles into her palm—giving myself something to hold onto when everything else felt ready to slip.
“C’mon,” I said, tightening my grip just enough to guide her. “I want you to myself before I have to share you with Harper in the morning.”
She let me lead her down the hall to my bedroom, the door clicking shut behind us with a soft finality that settled deeper than it should have.
When I turned to face her, I didn’t look away this time.
Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, slightly tangled from the wind. Her eyes, usually bright and sharp, were puffy and rimmed red like she’d been crying and didn’t want me to know it.
My chest tightened.
“You came back,” I said, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.
She swallowed, her gaze lifting to meet mine, glossy and unguarded. “I tried not to,” she admitted softly. “I tried to stay away. I tried so hard.”
I nodded, because I believed her.
Because I knew what it meant to fight something that had already taken hold.
We stood for a second, a few feet apart, the ocean crashing peacefully outside. The clock ticked somewhere behind us. The world kept moving.
But everything in this room narrowed to just her.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Both of you.”
I dragged a hand over my jaw, grounding myself. “Harper was worried about you,” I said, voice low. “Thought you went to Hawaii.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of her. “I’ve never even been to Hawaii.”
“She loves you,” I added, softer now. Unable to continue dancing around the emotion sitting in the room.
Dani’s throat worked as she swallowed. “I love her too.”
The words landed as raw as they were.
“And you, Logan,” she said, her voice breaking just slightly. “I love you, too.”
It took me a minute to register what she had just confessed. And when my mind finally caught up, everything in me stilled.
“I love you too,” I said. The words came easier than anything else tonight.
But the truth pressed in, sharp and unavoidable. My eyes closed briefly before I forced them open. “I can’t do that again,” I admitted, my voice lower now. “Losing someone without warning.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. That’s why I came back.”
There was no hesitation in it, no deflection, just truth.
It settled something in my chest I hadn’t realized was still tight.
“Why’d you actually leave?” I asked, softer now.
I watched as she hesitated; the way her shoulders drew in slightly, the way her fingers tightened in mine like she wasn’t sure she wanted to say it out loud.
“Because it scared me,” she admitted finally, her voice quieter, more fragile than I’d ever heard it. “How fast this started to feel like home.”
Her gaze dropped, then returned to me.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she continued, the words spilling out now. “I’ve never been in love like this before. Not where it feels like something I could lose.”
