“Good girl.”
“I know, right? I felt pretty pleased with myself after that.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“But?” he prodded, knowing there was still something bothering her.
“But I am having a bit of trouble,” she admitted.
“With what?” He refilled his glass and opened the other beer she’d brought out for her.
“It wasn’t as hard to forgive myself for being such a gullible idiot in thinking Mark and I actually had a chance. I mean, he gave me all the signs. He asked me to marry him, for Pete’s sake.” Her tone raised an octave higher in her anger. “It wasn’t my fault he left me to go off and do God knows what? I can rationally understand that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She downed three gulps of her beer before replying through her teeth, “Forgiving Mark. My blood boils just saying his name. He doesn’t deserve forgiveness. How am I supposed to move on?”
“Ah, I do understand. He hurt you. How can you forgive someone who hurt you? But that’s entirely the point. If you don’t forgive him, then you won’t move on. End of story. He wins.”
“He’s not going to win.”
“Then don’t let him.” Logan stood up and went into the house, returning shortly with two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “I figured this conversation requires something a bit stronger.”
“Dr. Worrywart isn’t so afraid after all, thank God.” She took the shot glass from him and tossed it back. He poured her another and then sat down, recognizing need when he saw it because it was the same need he’d had since his wife died. He didn’t give in to it on a daily basis to numb the pain because of his son, but once in a while, he allowed himself to wallow in self-pity.
Tonight was definitely one of those nights.
“Trust me, I’ve done plenty wrong in my life.” He thought of what had really happened to his wife and how he had kept it from everyone. He’d told himself it was for their own good, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He’d done it for himself because he couldn’t live with the world knowing her death was all his fault. He poured himself another shot and joined Emma in a party for two.
“Somehow I doubt that.” She snorted, looking far more relaxed already. “What could you possibly have done that was so bad?”
This time she sipped her shot glass, which was probably a good idea. One of them needed to keep their wits about them because he was suddenly in the mood to get shit-faced drunk, which took him twice as long since he was double the size of her. He downed another shot, unable to speak. Emma eyed him curiously but didn’t press the matter when he poured another. She had no clue what had really happened. No one did. Living alone with his lie had been eating him up inside for six long years. Forgiving Amanda had been easy. It wasn’t her fault. It was his. Forgiving himself was the issue. And until he did, he and any other woman wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Okay, fine, I admit it,” Emma said, staring down into her shot glass. “I am having a hard time forgiving Mark for what he did to me. It’s not fair. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. He shouldn’t get a free pass.”
“Why not?” Frustration was bottling up inside of Logan. Emma’s fiancé might have walked out on her with no explanation and hurt her feelings, but at least he was still alive. She had the chance to fix things with him if she wanted to, where Logan would never have that chance again with Amanda. Talk about things not being fair.
Emma blinked at him, totally shocked. “What do you mean, why not?”
“You don’t know for certain what happened to Mark. What if he has a great excuse? I know you don’t have closure, but you still have possibilities. Your outcome could be much bleaker, that’s all I’m saying.” Logan stared down into his empty shot glass and wanted more. He wanted to keep drinking until it numbed the pain if only for a little while.
“If and when Mark ever returns, no excuse on earth could make up for what he did,” Emma ground out, obviously growing angry with him. “I don’t care what his excuse is. It won’t be nearly good enough to make up for what he put me through. Why are you taking his side? You sound like my parents.”
“I’m not taking his side. I’m trying to be rational. Logical. You might try that yourself,” Logan snapped back at her with a harsher tone than he’d intended. Another reason why he shouldn’t keep drinking. He tossed back another shot anyway. “What if Mark was trying his best to deal with a situation he never expected and didn’t ask for but was dealt with nonetheless?” Logan added, thinking of himself.
“What are you talking about? How can you have sympathy for him? He left me willingly. I don’t care what the situation was, I would have moved heaven and earth before I ever left him. So would you. Your wife was taken from you when she would have given anything to stay. She didn’t leave you willingly. She was taken from you, so you don’t know what you’re talking about, and you sure as hell don’t know what I’m going through or how it feels.” Emma surged to her feet. “Coming here was a mistake.”
“You’re damn right it was!” Logan launched from his chair and threw his shot glass across the yard until it hit the fence and smashed into a million tiny little jagged pieces. “Goddammit, you and I both know I’m not just your friend!” he bellowed, not holding anything back now. Goddamned alcohol! “But what you don’t know is that I’m not free to be anything more.”
Emma stared at him wide-eyed, like he was some sort of monster. He was, and she should be very afraid.
He thrust a finger in her direction, his whole body shaking with too many emotions screaming to break free. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about.” His voice broke, and he could no longer keep his emotions in check as the words he’d buried deep inside for so long finally broke free. “My wife left me, too. Goddammit, she left me too, okay? You’re not fucking alone. I know exactly how you feel. And if I can forgive her, then you sure as hell can forgive him.”
“I know she left you, and I’m so sorry.” Emma’s face transformed into one of pity as she dropped her hand from the gate and stared at him.
Logan had to tell her the rest, then she would understand, but getting the words out was so hard. He fisted his hands and grit his teeth but couldn’t stop the pain from overcoming him. Tears withheld from six years of repressing them came surging to the surface and broke free on an agonized sob. He fell to his knees and his voice shook as he said the words that had haunted his soul for six long years, “My wife willingly left me, too.”
His shoulders shook as he hung his head, trying to hold his emotions back. He finally caved and cried for all the feelings he had kept bottled up for so long now and for the words he hadn’t spoken to another living soul on earth. It was freeing and liberating and somehow right with Emma. His eyes were squeezed shut and he hadn’t thought she was still there until he felt her touch. She cradled his cheeks and pulled him into her embrace as she stood before him. He was on his knees with his face buried in her stomach as he snaked his arms around her lower back, holding her to him as if he would die if she walked away now.
Truth be told, he probably would.
She ran her hands through his hair and stroked his back over and over. “What happened?” she finally asked. “You need to say the words. Talk to me. Let it all out. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
With his tears wetting the front of her expensive shirt, he spoke in a muffled voice. “Trevor was a big baby. The birth was difficult. Amanda hemorrhaged and had a lot of bleeding, but she survived. I thought we were in the clear, but I could tell she wasn’t herself. About two weeks in she started to act a little differently. At first, I questioned her about it, but she was a damned good nurse. I was in the height of my career and determined to make it to the top, no matter the cost. I’d had to work so hard my entire life, I wanted to make sure she and Trevor were taken care of, but she couldn’t handle him alone. I should have known that.”
“It’s okay. It’s going
to be okay,” Emma kept saying over and over as she continued to touch every part of him she could reach, and for the first time, Logan had a glimmer of hope that maybe someday he might believe that.
“Amanda understood working so hard to get ahead in your career and understood me like no one else ever had,” he continued with his story. “She was my biggest cheerleader. She knew all about post-partum depression, so when the signs hit, she hid them. She didn’t want to upset me and she didn’t want to stop me from achieving all of my dreams. When things became too unbearable for her, she didn’t tell me because she knew I probably couldn’t have handled it at that time. My angel was always thinking of me, and then I let her down in the biggest way imaginable. I’m a doctor, for God’s sake. I should have known what was going on and gotten her help. I don’t deserve to be happy, Emma. I don’t.” He squeezed her tighter and sobbed harder into her stomach.
Her hands continued to caress him, and she kept kissing him tenderly. “Logan, you’re way too hard on yourself. You have to get this off your chest. You can’t keep these kinds of feelings inside. I’m surprised you haven’t had a breakdown long before now. I’m here for you. You can tell me anything. What happened?”
He shuddered and did the one thing he’d never thought he would. He opened up. “I came home one day and found her in a pool of blood. She’d hemorrhaged again. It was awful. I felt horrible for not seeing the signs. The big baby, the hard labor, hemorrhaging in the hospital. I should have known she was at high risk for hemorrhaging again. You can hemorrhage for several weeks after having a baby.”
“But that’s not your fault. She died tragically. Everyone knows that. How is that her leaving you willingly?”
“That’s what I thought for a long time. Her parents were grief-stricken as she was their only child, and poor Trevor was just a baby in need of his mama. It was all such a horrible tragedy. But then I found her note.”
He felt Emma stiffen and her hands stilled before she spoke. “There was a note?”
“Oh yeah. Amanda made sure I wouldn’t find it until a month later when I was packing up our things to take Trevor and move to Beacon Bay so he could experience what was left of his family. We had talked about it before, so she must have suspected that’s what I would do. My wife’s death was tragic, but it was no accident. She knew she was hemorrhaging, but she purposely didn’t call for help. She didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. Thank God the baby was in his crib. She was too deep into her post-partum depression and didn’t have the will or the energy to go on living. She let herself bleed to death, but she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to me. She wrote me a suicide note and hid it in Trevor’s keepsake box so I wouldn’t find it until much later.”
“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” Emma dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his.
“It’s so unfair. She got to say goodbye to me, but I never did to her, and I will never have the chance to now.” He held Emma tightly pressed against him with his face buried in her neck. “She willingly left me too, Emma. She fucking willingly left me too. Sometimes I hate her for what she did, but I can’t because of Trevor. And her parents are Catholic. They needed to know their baby went to heaven. I couldn’t tell them. I’m so alone.”
“You’re not alone. You’re not alone. I’m right here.” Emma leaned her head back and cradled his cheeks in her palms as she stared into his eyes. “It’s going to be okay; do you hear me? I’m not going anywhere.”
“I need you,” he choked out, letting everything he was feeling show in his eyes. “So damn much,” he added on a whisper.
“I know. I need you, too,” she said with strong emotions shimmering in the tears welling up in her eyes mixed with something more he couldn’t quite identify and didn’t care to as she pressed her lips to his.
14
Present Day: Beacon Bay, Maine
Emma didn’t fully understand what had come over her. She knew she had to kiss Logan, right that minute, in the middle of his backyard beneath the stars that had emerged sparkling in the evening sky. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was the full moon that lit up his yard with an unearthly glow.
Kissing him was certainly out of this world.
She forgot to think, forgot to breathe, just went on instinct and let herself feel. They’d both been through so much with their loves leaving them on purpose. She didn’t know if she could ever forgive Mark for walking away from her any more than Logan could forgive himself for not helping Amanda in time. They were damaged, maybe beyond repair, but they needed each other right now. Beyond that, only time would tell.
She felt herself being lifted into Logan’s strong arms. He never broke the kiss as he carried her through the sliding doors and into his bedroom. His tongue traced every inch of her mouth, sweeping inside to taste and touch her own, sending pulses of electricity throughout her body. She plunged her hands into his thick curly hair, raking her fingernails over his scalp gently, then sweeping down to stroke his neck and squeeze his broad muscular shoulders. She wanted—no she needed—to touch him, feel him. She felt like if they stopped, she would crumble and fall apart.
He pulled his mouth away from hers long enough to rumble in a deep voice, “Are you sure about this?”
“No,” she responded with a breathy tone, “are you?”
He shook his head but tightened his hold on her as if he too was afraid to let go. “But I think I’ll die if we stop.”
“Good, that makes me feel better. So stop thinking and just feel.” She cradled his face in her palms. “You need me and I need you. That’s all that matters right now, don’t you think? Or am I crazy?”
“You’re not crazy.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Please don’t leave. Tell me you’ll stay the night.”
“Okay,” she said without hesitation, knowing there was no turning back from what they were about to do, but she didn’t care. She needed him way too much. Needed to comfort him. Needed to help herself.
Logan had said she was beautiful earlier and acted like she should know that. He had no idea she’d never felt pretty or wanted or good enough for anyone. Knowing he felt that way about her was a gift. Maybe it was time she showed him how she felt about him as well. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned back until they fell onto the bed with him on top of her. His lips tipped up a hair in amusement until she pushed him over and rolled on top of him. He sucked in a breath, his smile disappearing in an instant.
Straddling him, she sat up and her mini-skirt shoved up by her hips, leaving nothing but her lace panties and his silky shorts as a barrier between them. She ran her fingertips over his firm chest and down his flat stomach, the fine layer of hair tickling her hands through his tank top. She could feel him grow hard beneath her and sucked in her own breath over the sheer size of him. She pressed herself against him more firmly, and he grabbed her hips to still her.
“Easy, babe,” he managed to get out between groans. “I’m gonna lose it if you’re not careful.”
She bit her bottom lip, then said, “I’m not worried. We’ve got all night.”
She slowly pulled off her blouse and tossed it aside, loving the way he looked at her. For the first time in way too long, she actually felt beautiful. She reached for the front clasp of her bra, but he stilled her hands with his own. He brought each of them one at a time to his lips and kissed her palms then placed her hands at her sides. Spanning her waist with his wide palms, he slid his hands up slowly, stroking her belly with his thumbs along the way. When he reached the clasp of her bra, she was squirming with anticipation, which only seemed to make him moan harder.
He undid the clasp and peeled back the lace, his lips parting in awe as his eyes worshipped her. In one swift motion he surged to a sitting position, arched her back and took her breast in his mouth. She let out a cry of pure ecstasy as waves of sensations shot through her. If he was about to lose it, she was already halfway there. She wrapped her legs around him and he
slid one hand down to cup her bottom and pull her tighter to him while supporting her back with his other hand.
“Too many clothes,” he muttered after giving her other breast equal attention and quickly flipped her onto her back.
“Agreed,” she breathed, barely able to talk.
Everything happened so fast and suddenly they were both naked as they kissed their way over each other’s bodies, touching and tasting every inch of each other. And then he entered her, filling her so deeply and completely, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She didn’t know how to describe it, but she felt more connected to him than she had ever felt to anyone, as if they were a part of each other like soul-mates, and it terrified her.
“What’s wrong, babe, did I hurt you?” He stilled.
She shook her head hard. “No, no, don’t stop. You’re perfect,” was all she dared to say.
He rolled them over, still joined together, and stroked her back. Kissing her tenderly, he ran his hands through her hair as if to show her rather than say what was on his mind, but she could feel how he felt, and that was somehow more special. They moved together as one in a beautiful dance that started slow and picked up in tempo until a powerful and beautiful climax hit them both simultaneously. They shouted each other’s names and then collapsed together in a tangled sweaty heap on the mattress.
Neither one spoke, they just lay in each other’s arms, listening to each other’s heartbeats as their breathing slowed. Emma was terrified words would ruin the perfect world they had created if only for one night. She wasn’t ready for reality and doubts to creep back in. Everything seemed so right between them and she actually began to hope maybe they could be more than friends, but a nagging feeling at the back of her mind told her something was very wrong.
Logan looked up from the map he was reading at the marina and glanced at his phone. Still no text or call from Emma. He had been avoiding her for the past week, and now she was angry. Rightfully so. It had been stupid to avoid her, but he couldn’t help himself, although she had probably misunderstood the reason why. It had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with him, but telling her that would have been like saying, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Something no man or woman wanted to hear, especially after making love.
Until Tomorrow Page 16
