Chapter 15
15
C ally’s heart pounded in her chest as she sat and stared for ages at the piece of paper. She felt a rush of nausea, her mind racing with questions and doubts. She squinted at the certificate, trying to convince herself she had read it wrong, but the names remained unchanged. It was there, right before her, telling her in no uncertain words, that Logan had, in fact, at one point been a married man.
Her hands trembled as she took out her phone and snapped a photo of the marriage certificate. She wasn’t even sure why she was taking the picture. The words on the paper were imprinted on her brain anyway. Not sure what to do she started to rifle through the rest of the contents of the green leather folder. But as she looked and flicked from one to the next, she found nothing else that hinted about anything. No photographs, no letters, and no additional documents to provide context or answers. No fancy invitation, mementoes, order of service, nothing at all. It was all quite odd. There were a few old receipts from a shop in Scotland, a handwritten list that appeared to have been written by Cecilia detailing flights to Edinburgh, and a random picture of Logan’s uncle in a kilt.
Cally’s mind swirled with confusion and hurt. Why hadn’t Logan mentioned anything? Was it a secret he had intended to keep forever? Surely, he must have reasoned that, at some point, she would find out. Was the whole family keeping the secret, and if so why? Pushing herself up from the floor, she sank into the chair at the desk, leant forward, put her head in her hands, and pressed her fingers into her forehead not sure what to think or, more importantly, what to do. Feeling as if someone had ripped out a rug from under her and she was lying on the floor flailing, her emotions zipped around her in absolute turmoil. The certificate had cast everything into doubt. More, it hinted at what she didn’t know: who even was Logan? Had he been hiding an entire life from her? What a nasty, mean, horrible thing to do.
She remembered their conversations, the way he had spoken about his past. There had been no mention of a wife, no hint of this Cassia Allegra Brommington. Her brain raced at a hundred miles an hour and swirled in a tsunami of doubt. Was there some other explanation, some reason for this marriage that he hadn’t shared?
The questions came thick and fast as Cally seemed to be paralysed by thought and nailed to the chair. Hurt gnawed, followed by anger, with betrayal nipping at its heels. She couldn’t quite believe it and kept frowning down at the certificate as she wallowed around. She was so very furious, too. Absolutely fuming. She’d trusted Logan and couldn’t compute any reason why he might have felt it acceptable to have kept something so significant from her.
It was as if the whole Logan and Cally thing was now tainted as far as she was concerned. She had believed in their relationship, but now, everything seemed uncertain. All of it now a deep, murky pool of omission and doubt. Determined to find some clarity or something, but she didn’t know what, Cally continued to rifle through the papers. Like a woman possessed, she searched every box, every drawer, hoping to find something that would explain the marriage certificate. But there was nothing, not even a sniff of anything else. She felt as if the room was closing in on her as she sorted at lightning speed until most of the documents were filed in piles. The neatly stacked papers from posh people’s lives then seemed to mock her. She imagined that they had eyes following her around the room. Stupid little Cally with her short skirts and tights. Silly poor girl from the village dilly-dallying around thinking she was something else. No need to tell her about a marriage.
Cally sat down on the chair by the leather-topped desk, the weight of the discovery pressing on her. She looked at the marriage certificate again, trying to make sense of it. The elegant script, the official seals – it all seemed so real. It was real. There was no doubt at all about that.
Her mind flashed back to moments with Logan and she winced as she searched for signs she might have missed. Had there been hints of a secret life? Had he ever slipped, given away something unintentionally? Nothing. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall anything that suggested he was hiding such a significant part of his life. The only little red flag had been the fact that he hadn’t really said that much about the past at all. She kept shaking her head over and over again as if that might somehow help. It didn’t, instead, she felt adrift, hurt, and oh-so-angry. She wanted to scream in frustration and yell at someone that she’d known all along that it was too good to be true. Just her luck. Her bubble hadn’t just burst. It had smashed to oblivion, taking her along with it for the ride.
Yanking the vacuum from the corner of the room, she stuck the small upholstery brush nozzle on the end, pushed the button with her foot, and began to run the brush over the now clear desk, the thick, wide windowsill, and along the seats of the chairs. As she zoomed around, her thoughts turned inward, her mind a whirlpool going around and around. She remembered the first time she’d met Logan, the spark between them, the way he had made her feel special. How she’d told him so much stuff about the real Cally that no one else knew. How she’d shared with him about holding up the sky. She’d thought they had something real. She’d thought he was nice. She’d tucked him up in her life next to her heart. She was livid.
Had it all been a lie? She felt another surge of anger at the thought. Right beside the white-hot anger, though, was a deep, deep, deep sense of sadness because, bottom line, Cally had believed in Logan, and much more importantly, she’d trusted him. For the first time in her life, she’d let herself be vulnerable and opened up to him in ways she hadn’t with anyone else. She’d let being with him mean she could finally let go of the sky. She’d so enjoyed seeing it coming crashing down.
Logan Henry-Hicks had not played a good game. He had proceeded directly to jail. He’d one million per cent shattered the trust. Cally shook her head. Henry-Hicks would never be able to claw his way back into the special little corner of her heart. He was done and very much dusted.