I hesitated, then asked softly, “Can I ask about her mom?”
He stilled, fingers tightening just slightly on his knee. But then he exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yeah. You can.”
“I just—Harper talks about her sometimes. She said her mom would’ve liked me.”
That made him smile, small and wistful. “Yeah. She would’ve.”
He stared at the coffee cup in his hands for a moment before speaking again. “Elena and I met when I was stationed at Camp Pendleton. She was a nurse. We weren’t together long before she got pregnant, and we got married.”
He paused, the weight of memory flickering across his face. “She had a tough pregnancy. Complications started early. We were scared, but she kept saying she could handle it. She did, until she couldn’t.”
The soft stillness that followed wasn’t heavy, just… reverent. It now made sense why he seemed so concerned last night.
I reached out, resting my hand gently on his. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “She died a few minutes after Harper was born. I was sitting right there, holding both of them. And I remember thinking, how the hell do you love something so much and lose something so fast in the same breath?”
My heart ached. “How did you do it all on your own?”
“The Marines transferred me to a local position for a while, but it didn’t last. I left active duty when Harper turned two. Couldn’t keep leaving her.”
“She’s lucky to have you,” I said softly.
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I did what I could. Some days I feel like I’ve just been winging it, hoping I don’t screw her up too bad.”
I looked at him and said gently, “Logan, that little girl is confident, funny, and kind. You didn’t just raise her—you taught her love. That doesn’t happen by accident.”
He met my gaze then, and for a moment, the room felt suspended between heartbeats.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You’ve been good for her, you know. For both of us.”
I smiled, trying to hide how deeply that landed. “Well, I try to leave places a little brighter than I found them.”
He grinned. “You definitely did that.”
He reached for the coffee carafe, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with a subtle hint of vanilla, filling the space between us.
In the other room, I could hear Harper humming while brushing her teeth, completely off-key.
“This is nice,” I said softly.
“It is,” he said, his voice low.
I looked at him over the rim of my mug, my heart tugging in directions I didn’t have words for.
“I don’t know what this is,” I said finally, “but I know it feels good.”
He smiled, slow and sincere. “Yeah, it does.”
Harper’s footsteps thundered back down the hallway before either of us could say more. “Ready!” she declared, wearing two different socks and a sparkly headband.
Logan stood, ruffling her hair.
She giggled and reached for my hand. “Come on, Ms. Dani! You’re not sick anymore! We have to go outside before the sun hides!”
I laughed, setting my tray aside. “Give me five minutes, superstar.”
As she darted off again, I looked back at Logan. He was watching her with that look, the one that was all love and gratitude and awe.
