When You're Ready (Ready #1)(69)
“Um, okay,” I stammered, “Why don’t we get you inside? Here, let me take your jacket.”
He handed over his leather jacket, completely drenched with rain water. I laid it out to dry before sitting next to him on the couch. His eyes were vacant, hard, and completely unrecognizable.
“Have you been drinking?” I asked, the putrid smell of whiskey coming off of him in waves.
“Listen,” he said, ignoring my question completely. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since New York.”
The feeling I had been having, that terror in the pit of my stomach flared to life, warning me that my life was forever about to change. And not for the better.
“I miss the city. I don’t think I’m cut out to live here,” he confessed stoically.
“Logan, what are you saying? Do you want us to move to New York?” I asked, hopeful.
I didn’t want to move, but I will. If it meant he wouldn’t leave us, I would go anywhere.
“There are other things, too. I miss my job, my life there.”
“I thought we were your life,” I whispered.
He continued, spilling out the words, like he was unable to get them out of his body quickly enough. They sounded practiced and rehearsed, like he had written a speech before coming here. A “how to break up with Clare” speech and he couldn’t wait to get it all out.
“I thought I was ready for this. Ready to be with one person for the rest of my life, and ready to be a father. But I don’t think I am. I’m sorry. I know that sounds selfish, but it’s where I’m at,” he said, like he wasn’t ready to place his order yet, or he couldn’t decide between two shades of paint. No big deal.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked softly, seeing something flash in his eyes that he was desperately trying to keep blank for my benefit. He was hiding something.
“I just thought it’d be better this way. At least I figured it out before it was too late, right?” he shrugged.
Unable to sit next to him anymore, I jumped up from the couch, hurt and angry and so damn confused.
“Too late? There’s a little girl upstairs who adores you. What am I going to tell her, Logan?”
He turned from me, shielding his face from my view so I couldn’t see his expression.
“You goddamn lying bastard,” I seethed.
“I’m sorry, Clare.”
“Don’t apologize to me, Logan! Tell me what’s really going on here. This isn’t about some stupid job. What happened to make you run like this? Just tell me and we can work through it.”
He stood, running his hands through his hair for a few seconds as if trying to decide what to do. He finally looked up at me. I saw the hurt and pain in his eyes and I felt myself relax, knowing if he was opening up, we could get through this. But he turned his emotions back off and resumed the icy cold demeanor he had arrived with.
“There’s no other reason. Clare. I’m just not ready for this.”
“Please don’t do this Logan, please...you can’t leave,” I begged, the panic taking over every molecule in my body.
“I’m sorry, Clare. You have no idea how much I wish things were different,” he said, and it was the first thing he said all night that I actually believed. Everything else was a lie. One big goddamn lie he’s concocted. Like a big get out jail free card.
“You’re a f**king coward!” I roared, slapping him hard across the face. He just took it, as his head snapped back against the impact. No emotion, no angry words. Nothing. The Logan I knew was gone, buried underneath newly formed sheets of ice. This was the old Logan, the one that existed before me.
“Get out!” I yelled. “Get out, please,” my yell turning into a whisper, as the energy in my voice drained. I could barely stand, my knees fought to keep me upright. Seeing my struggle, he hesitated, taking a step toward me, but just nodded, walking out the door and never looking back.
I collapsed onto the floor, tears flowing down my cheeks as my entire body shook and that nagging terror I had felt earlier took over my every thought.
~Logan~
Sitting at my familiar barstool in the same bar I had gone to the night I’d met Clare, I felt like shit. It was really a dumb move on my part, but I didn’t want to go home. Too many memories to haunt me, reminding me of everything I had lost. Everything I’d given up.
You’re a f**king coward!
I was a coward. I had set myself on this course thinking I was doing something noble, saving her another life of pain and suffering, but who was I really trying to protect? I never asked what she wanted to do, never told her what that call was about so many days before. What I had found out today. I’d kept to myself, saying I was protecting her. But I was protecting myself from the possibility of seeing her walk away. What if she didn’t want me anymore? What if she looked at me differently? I didn’t know if I could handle the possibility that one day I could stop being Logan, and instead be a constant reminder of Ethan and everything she’d lost.
Walking into that house, telling her I wasn’t ready and acting like what we had wasn’t the most goddamn important thing in my life was the biggest shame of my life.
She looked slain, like I’d ripped out her heart and thrown it to the wolves. And I just stood there, cold and emotionless while she’d fallen apart. I wanted nothing more than to close the distance between us, and tell her I was sorry, that I didn’t mean any of it, and everything would be okay. I would have pulled out the ring in my jeans pocket, the ring I would carry with me until the day I died, dropped to my knees and asked her to marry me. I would have begged forgiveness, carrying her upstairs and making love to her all night rather than sitting here in this bar alone, like I would be for the rest of my life.