My throat tightened. This wasn’t about control, not really; this was about fear.
“I made sure Harper was okay,” I said softly. “I dropped her off with Cami and—”
“I know,” he said quickly. “Cami told me.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I just needed a minute.”
“I get that,” he replied. “You think I don’t?”
Another pause, longer this time. And then his voice shifted when he spoke again.
“I’m not sayin’ you can’t take space,” he continued. “I’m sayin’ you don’t do it alone like that.”
My fingers tightened around the phone, struck by the meaning behind his words.
“You scared me,” he added, softer now. It was the most open and vulnerable thing he shared. No longer covered by his usual gruffness.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, but this time it wasn’t automatic. It wasn’t defensive. I’d meant every word.
“I didn’t think about how it would feel from your side,” I continued
He exhaled slowly, the sound rough through the line. “I know you didn’t,” he said. “But you gotta.”
There was a pause, almost as if he was collecting his thoughts, before his voice came back on the line, gentler now.
“Next time you call me.” It wasn’t a suggestion or a demand; it was a boundary.
“Even if you don’t wanna talk,” he added. “Even if you just sit there and breathe, I don’t care. You call me.”
My throat tightened again. Because no one had ever asked for that before. No one had ever made space for me to fall apartwithout expecting me to do it neatly.
“I don’t always know how to do that,” I admitted quietly.
“I know. That’s why I’m tellin’ you,” his voice trailing off. “ So, you wanna tell me what happened?”
“I lost a case, an important one,” I admitted.
“I’m sorry, darlin’.” The word wrapped around me, and something gave way again.
I told him about the case. About how one small mistake, one night, had ruined her life. And how she trusted me to help.
I swallowed hard. “I couldn’t fix it.”
“You’re not supposed to fix everything,” Logan said gently.
“It feels like I am.”
“I know it does,” his voice softened, his drawl slower now, grounding. “But that ain’t what makes you good at it,” he continued.
I closed my eyes. Just for a moment, I let myself drift.
“You showed up for her,” he continued. “You stood there when no one else would. That matters more than you think.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
“But that doesn’t make it any less true,” he said.
Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t empty; instead, it held me.
