The silence that followed felt unbearable. I looked down at my hands, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to keep myself together. “Do you even want this? Us?” My voice was softer now, but the question carried the weight of everything I’d been holding in.
Logan reached for me, his hand brushing mine. The touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right anymore. “I want you more than anything,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But I can’t stop thinking about what this will do to her.”
I pulled my hand away, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over. “And what about me?” I whispered, my voice shaking. “What about what this is doing to me?”
Logan’s face crumpled, and he leaned back in his seat, dragging his hands through his hair. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to stop wanting you.”
The quiet stretched between us, broken only by the occasional sound of the engine ticking as it cooled. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, staring at the faint outline of the trees outside the window.
“Maybe we can’t fix it,” I said finally, my voice hollow. “Maybe this was always going to fall apart.”
Logan didn’t say anything, but I could see the pain in his expression. He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but no words came out.
I reached for the door handle, my heart pounding. “I need to go,” I said, my voice cracking. “I can’t keep doing this.”
“Emma,” Logan started, his hand reaching toward me, but I pulled away before he could touch me.
“Goodnight, Logan,” I said, stepping out of the car and into the cold night air.
As I walked away, I didn’t look back, even though I could feel his eyes on me. Every step felt heavier than the last, but I kept going, knowing that if I turned around, I wouldn’t have the strength to leave.