Crush

How had I ever allowed myself to become dependent on Logan? I was stronger than that.

Moving quickly to avoid letting my feelings take over, I hurried downstairs and grabbed some clean clothes out of the laundry room. I think I was in a state of shock over Logan leaving me, because what should have been sorrow was beginning to feel more like rage.

When Charlie left me I had been sad. Right now I was mad.

Coward!

I’d thought I knew Logan. I’d thought he was different. That he really, truly loved me. Me. But I had been wrong.

Staying away from here for a couple of days would probably be best. And I knew Michael wouldn’t mind. If I were alone, I didn’t know what I’d do. Thoughts of hunting Logan down and telling him how I felt were top on the list, though. His father’s and Molly’s were two more-than-likely places he’d be. But a psycho ex-girlfriend was nothing I wanted to be.

No, I’d leave things the way he did.

Silent and broken.

Tossing some extra clothes into a bag was all I needed to do. I’d left toiletries at Michael’s from my nights of staying over before Logan.

Beep. Beep.

Compartmentalizing my anguish was something I knew how to do well. I drew in a breath and headed for the door. Whenever I went to Michael’s I had to leave Logan behind, and this time would be no different.

The cool night air felt good on my skin but as I walked toward Michael’s car, I just couldn’t let go of Logan. I told myself to squelch the sadness that was looming over me. He was gone. The faster I could accept that, the better off I’d be. Still, I couldn’t help but remember how I thought he was different. How I thought he loved me in a way no one ever had.

That our love could conquer anything.

Mindlessly, I opened the door.

“Mommy!” Clementine shrieked as soon as she saw me.

All things Logan disappeared as panic set in. With my heart in my throat, my eyes darted to Michael.

He was shaking his head. “Clementine, Daddy told you, that’s Auntie Elle. Your mommy’s in heaven.”

“Mommy,” she called again, waiting for me to turn around and greet her.

My eyes were still on Michael as I got in and closed the door. “She keeps referring to you that way. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to get her to stop.”

It was odd, but a feeling of relief coursed through me and I turned around. “Hi, silly girl.” I clutched her kicking foot. “I missed you. How are you today?”

Sputtering sounds escaped her throat and my broken heart felt a little more whole at the pure excitement this little girl felt at seeing me.

She was what I needed.

Michael pulled away and a piece of my heart was left on the curb.

“So how’s business?” he asked. “We haven’t talked much lately. It’s keeping you pretty busy, I take it.”

The boutique was the other bright spot in my life. “Business is booming. I can’t believe how people have taken to the idea of the finest things in life. To be honest, I’m having a hard time keeping the shelves stocked. I’m trying to buy up as much inventory as I can.”

The rain started up again and he took the corner with caution. “Not a bad problem to have.”

Everything with Michael seemed more at ease tonight. Our conversations were slowly getting easier with each passing day, like they had been before that night that changed everything. The night he, in the most roundabout way, told me that if I didn’t help him I’d be banned from Clementine’s life. Stress had a way of impacting people, though, and maybe he hadn’t meant it the way it came across. He was obviously worried about his daughter. And for good reason. Understanding that, and even though I knew I had to stay on my guard, I was happy things felt more back to normal.

“What do you think?” he asked as he pulled into his garage.

I blinked, realizing I’d tuned him completely out for most of the ride.

He laughed. “I thought I lost you somewhere on the highway. I was talking about dinner. I picked up everything I need to make chicken stir-fry.”

I raised an impressed brow. “You’re cooking?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I turned the stove on and I felt it was time. Erin fed Clementine, so if you want to give her a bath and put her down, I’ll start chopping.”

Something felt off about this. I hoped this wasn’t a date and I’d misconstrued what he’d meant by dinner. Grabbing a bite to eat was one thing, but Michael cooking for me felt like something else.

“Elle, are you sure everything is okay?”

I plastered a smile on my face. “Yes, it was just a long day. That’s all.”

“If you’re too tired, I can take care of Clementine.”

Realizing it sounded like I didn’t want to, I spoke quickly. “No, I’d love to put her to bed.”

He opened his door. “Great, I’ll grab the groceries. You grab her.”

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