His voice was low, tense.
I turned to find Logan standing in the doorway, his expression dark. His blue eyes flicked to the letter in my hands, and in an instant, I watched his entire body stiffen.
“You weren’t going to tell me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw clenched. “Emma—”
“You’ve had this. How long?” My hands shook as I clutched the letter tighter.
He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “This morning"
I felt like the air had been knocked out of me.
My voice rose in disbelief. “And you didn’t tell me?”
He flinched but held his ground. “I didn’t want to ruin your moment, okay? You were happy. I didn’t want to be the one to take that away from you.”
I swallowed hard, my chest aching. “Logan, we’re supposed to do this together.”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, I guess that’s not how it’s gonna work out.”
I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. This wasn’t just disappointment. It was something deeper. Something heavier.
And then, as if the universe was playing one final cruel joke, he sighed and reached into his pocket.
“I did get in somewhere,” he admitted.
My breath caught.
He pulled out a different letter—one I hadn’t seen. The return address on the envelope sent a sharp pang through my chest.
It wasn’t Clae.
It was five hours away.
Logan met my gaze, his expression unreadable. “I got accepted here.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
A different city. A different future.
Everything we had planned—it wasn’t lining up anymore.
“What are you going to do?” I finally asked, my voice small.
He hesitated. Then, with quiet resolve, he said, “I’m not going.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I’m staying with you,” he said simply. “I’ll wait. I’ll apply again next year. I don’t care how long it takes—I’m not leaving you, Emma.”
I felt my throat tighten. “But—Logan, your dream—”
“You are my dream.” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t need some music program to play. I’ll figure it out. But I need you.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and before I could think, I launched myself into his arms.And just like that, everything that had felt broken… wasn’t anymore.
The moment we hit the mattress, Logan flipped us over, pinning me beneath him. His hands traced the curves of my body like he was memorizing me, like he was claiming me.
“You sure?” he whispered against my lips, his voice rough, eyes dark with need.
I answered by pulling him closer, my fingers tangling in his hair, my hips arching up to meet his. “Logan, I want you.”
A groan rumbled deep in his chest. “God, Emma.”
And then, all at once, there was nothing between us. No doubts. No distance.
Just heat.
Just him.
His lips found mine, desperate and demanding, his hands tracing down my spine, spreading fire in their wake. I gasped as he moved lower, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses down my neck, his breath hot against my skin.
“I love you,” he murmured against my collarbone, his fingers gripping my hips as he settled between my legs.
“I love you too,” I breathed.
And then he was inside me, moving with slow, deliberate strokes, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer.
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t desperate.
It was us.
Everything we had been through, every fight, every tear, every moment of uncertainty—it all led to this.
His forehead rested against mine as we came undone together, our bodies tangled, our breathing heavy, our hearts pounding in sync.
And as we lay there afterward, limbs entwined, skin damp, Logan pressed a soft kiss to my temple and whispered,
“No matter what happens next… I’m yours, Emma.”
I curled into him, my fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest.
“And I’m yours.”