When Love Breaks (22 page)

“Are you on your way home?”

“Almost. Just one quick stop, then I’ll be on my way. What do you feel like doing tonight?”

“I have a few ideas, but we’ll talk about it when you get here.”

“Hmm. It sounds like you might have the same idea I have. I’ll see you in a bit. I’ve got to go. Love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Bye.”

I disconnect the call then smile broadly, as I anticipate being with Logan for another weekend.

LOGAN

S
he’s late. Where could she be? I’ve texted her no less than half a dozen times, but I’ve heard nothing back from her. I dial her number again.

“Hey, I’m really starting to worry over here. Please call me when you get this message…I love you.” I hang up and continue to pace. This isn’t like her. She always calls or texts me when she’s been held up.

Thoughts and memories come flooding back about the day I almost lost my life. I can hear the screeching of tires. I can smell the gasoline. I can see the twisted metal and the blood pooling on the ground beneath me. Suddenly, pain sweeps across the air where my legs used to be, and I’m forced to sit down to try to relieve the ghostly spasms.

“Stop!” I wince and cry out, eventually removing my prosthesis, and giving my residual limb a gentle massage. The ache subsides, and I’m left breathless. Will this phantom torment ever stop?

I check the time again. It’s been almost two hours since she should’ve been here. I have to do something. Grabbing the keys, I make my way into the garage. My car, which hasn’t been used for the better part of a year, sits quietly in its spot. The layers of dust are so thick that I could easily write my name on the surface. I hesitate. Should I do this? I haven’t driven since before the accident. I can feel my heartrate increase. Could I even make it out onto the main road? Should I wait a bit longer? What if she’s on her way, and we miss each other en route? I close my eyes, as my fist closes tightly around my keys.
What if she’s not okay
. I open my eyes, and push forward, trying hard not to think about the consequences of what I’m about to do, and I climb inside. The interior smells the same as I remember, and I run my hand over the dashboard. God, I miss driving. With the key in the ignition, I start the car. It purrs to life with a twist of my wrist. I say a prayer, then I open the garage door. Here goes nothing.

Backing out is my first challenge. Operating a vehicle, with what feels like stilts extending from your knees, takes a lot of getting used to. I test the gas and brake petals. The last thing I want is to cause an accident. It takes all my concentration to figure out how hard to press down, let alone steering the damned thing and watching my surroundings. I sigh in frustration. If I’m going to get there in one piece, I’m going to have to go slow. This aggravates me even more, especially while I’m thinking the worst.

As I drive through town, I’m both in a hurry and trying to be careful. The two concepts, being polar opposites, are making my heart leap from my chest.

“Come on, Logan. She’s okay. Everything’s fine.” I repeat this over and over again in my head, hoping to convince myself that it’s true.

While I’m not entirely sure which direction she might have taken, I choose a route that allows me to drive past her work, on the off chance that she’s there. The parking lot is small, so I assess quickly that she’s not. It’s both a relief and a distress. Eliminating one of her possible whereabouts, I continue on my journey. At a stop light, I check my phone and send a quick text.

On my way to your apartment. Please stay where you are.

The light turns green, and my overly zealous emotions cause my car to lurch forward, almost hitting the van in front of me. I gasp, then stomp on the brake. My heart is in my throat, as my reality check rings loud and clear inside my head.

“Calm down, Logan, or you may never get to her,” I say under my breath.

Finally, I reach her apartment complex. I slowly drive toward her section, as my eyes scan the dozens of cars in the lot. I see her brother’s car, which she’s been driving, and hope that that’s what she drove today. I park, happy as hell to have made it in one piece.

Wasting no more time, I leap from the car, and dash through the outside door, moving straight to her apartment. With unsteady breaths, I knock.

“Elora? Are you home? It’s me, Logan.” I wait on pins and needles for any sign that she’s in there. Then, I ring the doorbell, wanting to make sure I’m heard. “Are you in there?” I ask again, knocking louder this time.

“Are you looking for the young lady who lives in that apartment?” a feeble voice asks.

I glance over at the door, across the hall, and spy a gray haired, older woman. She’s standing in her doorway with a coffee cup in her hand.

“Yes. Do you know if she’s home?”

She purses her lips and nods.

“I saw her go in a while ago,” she says.

Oh, thank God.

“But,” she continues, “she didn’t look too good. You might want to check in on her.”

“I can’t get in. I don’t have a key,” I say, hoping that Elora gave her one for safe keeping.

“It’s under the mat,” she says. “I told her that wasn’t the best place to keep it, but she insisted. Said her brother is always locking himself out.”

I look beneath my feet at the mat that says ‘welcome’. Reaching down, I uncover the key and blow out a steadying breath, knowing it’s the last barrier that stands between us. Grasping it like a lifeline, I look back at the old woman.

“Thank you,” I say.

“You’re welcome. I hope everything’s okay.”

“Me too.”

I hurriedly unlock the door and peer inside.

“Elora?” I call out but hear nothing in return. I call to her again, as I walk in farther, but still, I hear nothing. Then, as I walk toward her closed bedroom door, I hear the faint sound of someone crying.

Shit.

I grab the handle.

“Elora?”

“Logan?”

Relief washes over me at the sweet sound of my name on her lips.

She’s okay.

“Yes. Can I come in?”

“Yes,” her muffled voice says, and at her cue, I open the door.

18

LOGAN

R
egret lances through me as I find her lying atop her bed. She’s curled up in a ball, and her eyes are swollen and red from crying. I rush to her side, throwing myself, knees first, onto the floor beside her.

“Elora. What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

She sniffles and wipes her tear-stained cheeks.

“I don’t know,” she says with a shaky voice.

I do a visual sweep across her body, looking for any signs of trauma.

“What’s going on? Are you hurt?” I touch her face, partly to check for fever, partly just to touch her.

“I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sure?” I check again but find nothing out of the ordinary. “It’s very late. Why didn’t you come over? I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I came straight home after leaving the office. My phone is in silent mode, and I guess I didn’t pay much attention to the time.”

I close my eyes, as my heart settles into a slower rhythm. Standing up, I motion for her to move over, then I sit on the edge of her bed, bidding her to sit beside me. My arm finds its home around her shuddering shoulders, as she rests her head against my chest.

“Talk to me,” I whisper, kissing her hair. “What’s going on?”

She inhales shakily, before she looks up at me.

“I got fired.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“What?” I say, almost too quietly.

“They fired me, Logan. They saw me over your house. They took pictures of us together. They’re saying I’ve been working for you under the table, and he said to expect a lawsuit.” She sniffles again, as her tears flow freely.

“Who said this?”

“Dave Smythe—the owner of the company.” Anger starts to burn inside my chest, replacing the worry that was there only minutes ago. “When I tried to explain that I wasn’t working for you, that we were a couple, he laughed and said he knew that too. He then showed me a picture of us. He said his next call would be to my nursing school.”

“What kind of picture?”

“It was the two of us. I was on your porch, backed up against the wall, with my hands in your hair, and we were kissing. Oh, Logan, what am I going to do?”

I close my eyes and inhale deeply. When I exhale in a rush, I take hold of her face, looking her straight in the eyes.

“I’m going to fix this. This is all my fault. I was warned several times. I’ll take care of this,” I say with an air of finality.

Her expression changes to panic.

“What are you going to do?” she says, as I begin to stand. She wraps her small hand around my wrist, anchoring me in place.

“I’m going to see your boss. I’ll tell him it was all me, and that you’re innocent.”

“He won’t believe you.”

I look back at her.

“Then, I’ll make him.”

I break free from her grasp, and make my way into the living room. I hear Elora’s hurried footsteps behind me.

“Logan, wait,” she says, desperation in her voice. “How will you get there?”

“I’m going to drive.” When I see the concern on her face, my heart softens, and I realize I need to console her and get ahold of myself, before I go. “Come here,” I say, reaching for her. She walks into my open arms, and I envelope her in a comforting embrace. She shudders again, her sorrow returning, as she weeps into my chest.

“Please don’t go. There’s nothing you can do.” She looks up at me. “He’s determined to make me pay for the time and money he thinks I’ve stolen from his company. He won’t listen to you.”

Cupping her face in my hands, I lower my head and plant a loving kiss on her lips. I can taste the salt from her tears, which fuels my fire. I can practically hear my mind screaming at me to fix this.

“I have to go. I have to try to fix this for you.” I release her and walk toward the door.

“Logan, stop!” she shouts, just as Daniel walks through the door. He takes one look at the menacing expression on my face, then at his sister, and clearly makes assumptions. Before I have time to react, or say a word, his fist makes contact with my jaw. He hits me hard enough to knock me off balance, sending me careening into the nearby entry table. Luckily, I’m able to right myself instead of hitting the floor. I square up and stare angrily into his enraged eyes.

“I deserved that, but that’s the one and only chance you’ll get. The next time, I’ll defend myself, and I don’t think either of us wants that.” My nostrils flare in fury, as I turn my head toward Elora. I give her a silent goodbye, then exit.

ELORA

“W
hat the hell do you think you’re doing?” I scream at Daniel while pounding on his chest. He quickly grabs my wrists, halting my assault.

“What am
I
doing? What did
he
do?”

“He did nothing! And, you hit him!”

“Hell yeah, I hit him. What the fuck is going on? I come home and see you’ve been crying, and he looked like he could kill someone. What am I supposed to think?”

“How about finding out what’s going on before throwing your fists around?” I yank my wrists out of his grasp and run to the door, hoping to catch Logan before he leaves. But, it’s too late. I watch as a car goes speeding from the parking lot, and I have to assume it’s his. I close the door and lean against it, defeated.

“If he didn’t hurt you, then tell me what happened,” Daniel says a bit calmer.

I roughly wipe my tear-stained cheeks before coming to rest on the couch.

“Well?” he insists.

I shake my head, not wanting to reveal that he was right. I don’t want the ‘
I told you so’
right now.

“I was right, wasn’t I? Did you get fired?” he asks. I nod my head, and my tears start again. I hear his sigh, but surprisingly, he doesn’t lecture me. Instead, he comes and sits next to me. He puts his arm around me as I bury my face in my hands. “I was afraid of this. What can I do?”

I sniffle and wipe my face again.

“There’s nothing anyone can do. I’ve as good as lost my job and my career.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, and I look at him.

“Aren’t you going to gloat?”

He smirks.

“Do you want me to?”

I shake my head.

“No. Not at all,” I say.

“Then, I say we just sit here and come up with plan B.”

A few moments of silence are broken when a thought comes to my mind.

“You hit him pretty hard.”

“Yeah. I did. But, in my defense, I didn’t know what I was walking into. You were distraught and yelling
stop
, and he was angry. I thought the worst. I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to him too if you want.”

“Apologize if you feel sorry for doing it. I understand your motives.”

He gives me a brotherly squeeze.

“I love you, sis, and I’m sorry this happened to you.”

I nod.

“I’m going to my room.” I then stand, grabbing my phone, and close my bedroom door behind me.

It’s late in the evening when my phone rings. I pick it up, acutely aware of who it must be. The caller ID confirms my suspicions.

“Logan? Is everything all right?” I say, with my heart racing.

“Hey, baby. Yes, everything’s fine. How are you? Are you feeling better?” he says softly.

I feel relaxed just at the sound of his smooth, calming voice.

“I’m better now that I’m talking to you,” I say, honestly.

“Good. Can I come over? I’d really love to see you.”

“Yes!” I let him know I’ll meet him at the door, and we hang up.

Within twenty minutes, I see a car pull into a parking space near the entrance to my building. It’s dark, but I race to the outside door to greet him. I watch as he exits the car with a weary smile, meant only for me, and he catches me mid-stride as I wrap my arms around his neck.

Heaven.

I hear him inhale with his nose buried in my hair.

“God, you smell good,” he says. I pull back and look into his eyes. But, before I say a word, I reach up and kiss him. His arms pull me tighter up against his body. After a moment, we break apart, and he sighs. “I’m so happy to see you. Do you have any idea how much?”

“Yeah. I have a pretty good inkling.”

He snakes his arm behind my back as we walk toward the building. We stop just short of the door.

“Is your brother inside?” he asks.

“Yes, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Does he know about…”

“Yes.”

He nods.

“I want to apologize to him.” I’m shocked.

“For what?”

“I should’ve been more cautious. This was my fault.”

“It was both of us,” I say in a reassuring tone while laying my hand on his chest.

When we enter my apartment, Daniel’s in his room, but upon hearing our voices, he comes out. The tension is thick.

Without warning, Logan thrusts a hand out in Daniel’s direction.

“I’m sorry for my part in this whole thing. You were right to hit me. In fact, I’m happy to see you so defensive when it comes to your sister. Please accept my apology for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Daniel stares at Logan’s hand. He looks as though he’s contemplating whether or not to shake it. When it’s obvious that Daniel’s not ready to accept it, Logan drops his hand back down to his side.

“I just wanted you both to know that you don’t need to worry about this situation. It’s been taken care of,” Logan says.

“What? What do you mean? What did you do?” I ask.

Daniel says nothing, but eyes Logan skeptically.

“I had a long talk with your boss. He won’t bother pursuing a lawsuit or mention any of this to your school.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“But…how?”

“I handled it,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate. I wind my arms around his waist. “You didn’t threaten him, did you?”

He scoffs.

“No. Let’s just say, money talks.”

“You paid him off?” Daniel finally chimes in. His tone is accusatory. They stare at each other.

“Yes. I did.”

Daniel huffs and rolls his eyes at the notion.

“You know, I don’t get you,” Logan says to him. “I love your sister. I’d do anything in my power to prevent her from getting hurt, and yet, no matter what I do, you still have a problem with me. Why is that?”

“I don’t like the fact that
you
are the cause of all my sister’s trouble. You might’ve bailed her out, but if it wasn’t for
you
, she wouldn’t need it in the first place,” Daniel says with his usual snarky tone.

Logan’s mouth twists, and he shakes his head.

“Well, since I can’t seem to please you, not that I care to, I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree then.”

Daniel pulls his shoulders back and puffs out his chest, while Logan remains the same in his posture, clearly unintimidated. I feel the need to step in between the two men in my life before it escalates again.

“Okay. That’s enough. Daniel, it’s late. If you need me, I’ll be in my room. Logan, come with me.” I take his hand, leading him into a more private place so we can talk.

He closes the door behind us, then joins me in sitting on my bed. His hands run through his hair out of frustration.

“I’m sorry about Daniel. He’s not usually so confrontational.”

Logan shrugs.

“He doesn’t bother me.” He turns and softly caresses my cheek. “I’m just happy to see your beautiful face free from worry and tears.”

I give him a small smile, then cover his hand with mine.

“So, do you want to tell me about your impromptu meeting with Dave?”

“If you want to hear it.” I nod, and he sighs. “I went to your job unsure of what I might have to do to get you out of this situation. I explained to him that you weren’t contracted privately, but that I was no longer in need of services. I pulled up my pant leg to show him the evidence. I told him that you were the one who convinced me to work at getting my mobility back, and in turn, get my life back. He laughed and said he didn’t care about any of that. He saw an opportunity to win in court, and he was going to take it.”

“So, he was willing to ruin my life for a few extra dollars?” He nods his head. “Unbelievable,” I whisper.

“Yep. I offered him the cost of what he would win in court, in exchange for him to drop the case. He refused, then pressed me for more money. He said he knew our relationship had the potential to wreck any medical career you would try to pursue, and
that
had to mean more to me than a few thousand dollars. So, after much negotiation, we settled on a price. He tore up the pictures in front of me and gave them to me. I walked out with a bitter taste in my mouth, but I felt relief for you at the same time.”

“But, how did he find out? Where did the pictures come from?”

He sighs and looks repentant.

“Bethany was the informant.”

My hand flies to my mouth.

“Oh, God. Why would she…” Then, the reason comes into focus: she’s jealous.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d—”

“Shh. It’s not your fault.” Then, a bigger question come to mind. “How much did you give him?” My voice is small. I’ve asked the question, but I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.

He shakes his head.

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me. How much?” His silence reveals that it’s most likely a lot of money. “Logan,” I press him. “Please tell me.”

He bows his head and sighs.

“Ten thousand.”

“
What?
Are you
joking?
” He shakes his head and looks at me.

“No,” he says quietly.

I stand and begin to pace. I have no idea what to say about this gesture—this
huge
gesture. Why on earth would he do this? Ten. Thousand. Dollars? Is he kidding?

“Why would you do this for me?” I ask as I turn to face him.

“How can you ask me that?” He stands, walks closer, and cups my face in his hands. “I love you. I hated to see the hurt in your eyes that I caused. I had to make it right. No matter what, I had to make it right.”

“But, that’s a lot of money. You’re not working. How did you—”

“That’s not your concern,” he interrupts.

“Like hell it’s not. You bailed me out, which I’ll pay back by the way. I can’t take your money. You need it.”

He looks down.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I got you in this mess, and I got you out of it. End of story.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “Can’t we just forget this ever happened and go on with our lives. We can be happy now. There’s nothing to stop us.”

I sigh ruefully. He does have a point. I should just thank him and start living the life I’d been hoping to, since we started dating.

“You’re right. Thank you,” I say as I wrap my arms around him. He reciprocates while kissing the top of my head.

“You’re most welcome.”

“Will you please let me pay you back though? I feel terrible with you being without an income and all.” He scoffs, which makes me look up at him. “What aren’t you telling me?” I eye him suspiciously.

“I didn’t want to tell you this but…I might have a little money in the bank.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. When my dad died, my biological dad, Michael and I inherited some money.”

“Okay. But, that doesn’t mean you should spend it all on me.”

He chuckles.

“I didn’t.” He pulls back, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Elora, Michael and I both inherited one million dollars.” I gasp, throwing my hand over my mouth. “I took that initial amount and with a few wise investments, it grew…into a ridiculous number.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, then walks a few feet from me.

“I don’t know. It’s not like I was hiding it. The subject just never came up.”

I let all he’s just disclosed sink in, then I turn and walk toward him.

“Is that why your mother dislikes me? She thinks I’m after your money?” He nods, sadly.

“Pretty much. That’s what she pulled me out of the room to discuss when we went over there.” He shrugs. “I tried to tell her that you’re not like that but…”

“I get it. I can see why she would be worried. But, I hope she knows that I’m not here for that reason,” I say laying my hand on his chest. “I’m in it for this.” Then, I reach up and kiss him. His hands weave through my hair, his thumbs coming to rest on my cheeks. Our tongues touch as we solidify our connection to each other.

Then, I tug on the front of his shirt, begging him to follow me. He does, as we continue to kiss. I feel the bed at the back of my knees, but instead of sitting, Logan reaches down, holding my thighs, and lifts me up, placing me gently on my back. He then follows me down. With his weight on top of me, his lips find my neck. I tilt my head to the side to give him better access.

“God, I love you,” I say, which sounds more like a moan.

“Mmm,” he hums back. “I love you more.”

Before I have a chance to argue that fact, his mouth is on mine again, and I’m lost to the world in a way I haven’t been able to be, until this moment.

We’re free to love each other as we please.