If I questioned Logan’s fidelity before, I wasn’t now. His eyes are filled with an immense amount of pain I haven’t seen since he was in the hospital last year, lying in the bed bruised and broken. Only this time, Logan’s wounds were internal.
“Hey,” I say, sitting down in the chair beside him. We both face the shed, examining the difference it’s made to our back yard. The wood panels are painted a bright yellow. I wanted to paint the shed a color that felt alive. A color that gave me the illusion I was content with my new life in Seattle. I’d hoped it would make me feel whole and complete. It’s funny the extent to which people will go to make their lives feel more at peace than they actually are.
“Hey,” he says, looking down into his lap. He inhales a deep breath, his shoulders rolling with the motion.
“Logan, I—” I stop myself, emotions overtaking me. I’d rehearsed this conversation time and time again in the car but being in front of Logan now, I’m left speechless. I’m more nervous than I was in the car.
“Lena.” His interjection saves me. He lifts his head slowly, his eyes full of regret. “Before you start, I want to apologize. I should have told you what Natalie did. By not telling you, it may it seem like I don’t trust you and I do. You’re my wife.” He plays with the ring on his fourth finger, twisting the black metal with his fingertips. I swallow, feeling the weight of what the ring symbolizes. “You’re the only person in this world that I trust with my whole world.” he continues. “I know you shoulder a lot of guilt for what happened with Julian. You’ve told me before. I was weak, afraid to put any more burdens on you.”
A tear slips from my eye, sliding down my cheek. It feels as if I’ve been crying forever, surprised there’s any more left in me to be shed.
“Logan, I’m sorry.” I wring my fingers together like I had last night at Abby’s. My knuckles blush with white. The secrets are there, pushing on the door, ready to open. “Everything you just said is true. I should have trusted you. The street goes both ways. I should have trusted you enough to listen.”
He sits up, turning in his seat. His knees press against mine and my stomach dips. He may be my husband, but he still has the skill to swiftly create butterflies in my stomach. They rage and beat against my empty stomach.
“I promise to never keep secrets from you ever again,” he vows.
“I promise, too.” I tilt my head to the side, studying his face. His eyes soften, love for me swirling in them. It’s as if the past year has been laid out on the table, Logan and I unloading our secrets, casting ourselves out of the darkness that has divided us for so long.
Sitting up, Logan leans over me, resting his hands on the arms of my chair. He dips his head, pressing his lips to mine. I close my eyes, savoring the way his smooth lips feel against mine. The smell of cedar and pine floats around me. Logan is my home. My security. The only man I ever want to be with.
Our kiss lingers. He moves his lips, parting them far enough to slide his tongue out. I part my lips, allowing him access. He slides his tongue around mine, tasting me. Every kiss and every touch is a tattooed promise, forever scoring my heart.
I lift my hand, gripping on to the fabric of his shirt that’s hanging away from his body, pulling him closer. His hot breath lands against my skin as he lets out a small laugh, reverberating from his chest. I don’t want him to pull away. I want to stay like this forever. When he finally does break our kiss, I feel the absence of him immediately. He returns to his chair beside me.
Logan smirks, the corner of his blushed lips curling. He holds my hand in his, wrapping it around mine like a cage. “I want you to know you can trust me with whatever you’re going through. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me, Lena.”
I inhale a shaky breath and nod. Now was the time for me to tell him about my suspicions of Julian’s return. “Those pictures weren’t the first email.”
“What do you mean?” Logan sits up, straightening his back. His eyebrows arch across his forehead.
“I’ve been getting these emails for a while now. The first one came in after Abby and I surprised you for lunch, the day she took me to her new office building. The second came after the night we had dinner with Abby and Max.” I slide my phone from my shorts, opening the emails. “I think it’s Julian.”
Logan’s eyes dart between me and my phone. He gently grabs it, reading each one. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. When he looks up, his eyebrows knit with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
A part of me is relieved he isn’t angry with me for keeping this from him. But guilt rises, remembering the reason why I’d kept it from him in the first place. My discretion had come from a place of selfishness and remorse.
“I was afraid that if I told you, you’d want to leave Seattle.” Logan lifts his hand, cupping my cheek with his hand. His fingers thread through my hair, electricity shooting straight through me. “Julian nearly took your life once before and it was all because of me.
