The first time Logan showed up at the bar again, my heart lurched. I pretended not to notice him at first, focusing on my orders and keeping my head down, but he waited. When the rush died down, he slid into the corner booth, the one farthest from the crowd. His presence was electric, even when we weren’t speaking.
Our stolen moments became the thing I both dreaded and craved. Sometimes, we’d just talk—about school, about life, about anything that let us forget the weight of what we were doing. Other times, he’d lean closer, his hand brushing against mine, his gaze locked on my lips until I couldn’t help but kiss him. Each kiss was more desperate than the last, like we were trying to make up for the time we couldn’t be together in the open.
But every time we parted, I saw the guilt etched on his face.
“I can’t keep doing this,” Logan whispered one night after sneaking out to meet me behind the bar. “She depends on me, Emma. Vanessa… she’s not okay.”
“And you think this is okay?” I shot back, my voice trembling. “Sneaking around, lying to her, pretending like we don’t feel what we feel?”
Logan didn’t answer, his jaw tight as he looked away. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words.
At school, we were strangers again. Logan sat with Vanessa at lunch, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders as she whispered something in his ear. I couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes darted around the room, as if she was searching for someone—or something—that wasn’t there. Her grip on him seemed tighter every day, her dependency on him more obvious.
Sarah, ever perceptive, nudged me during one particularly awkward lunch period. “What’s going on with you and Logan?”
“Nothing,” I lied, keeping my gaze fixed on my plate.
“Right,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief. “Because the way he looks at you is definitely nothing.”
***
The world outside Logan’s car was still, the kind of quiet that only came late at night. The dashboard cast a soft glow, illuminating the tension etched across his face. We were parked on a deserted street, far enough from town that no one would stumble upon us. The air between us felt heavy, thick with words we couldn’t say.
I stared out the window, my fingers tracing the edge of my seatbelt. “Do you even think about how hard this is for me?” The words came out sharper than I intended.
Logan exhaled slowly. “Of course, I do.”
“Then why?” I turned to face him. “Why do you keep doing this? Running back to her like she’s the only person who matters?”
“She’s... she’s not okay, Emma. She depends on me.” He didn’t look at me, his eyes fixed on the empty road ahead.
“And I don’t? Do you think sneaking around like this doesn’t tear me apart?”
He turned to me, his eyes burning with frustration. “What do you want me to say? That I’m a coward? That I don’t know how to let go of her without breaking her even more?”
“I want you to tell me the truth,” I said, leaning closer. “Not the excuse you keep hiding behind.”
He leaned closer, cupping my face. “You are the truth, Emma,” he said, his voice cracking. “But I don’t know how to do this without destroying everything.”