November 28, 2018—Seattle, Washington—10 Days Later
Two weeks had flowed like a gentle stream since Logan returned home.
He’d started his new job, settled into the role, learned faces, names, processes, and made all the right connections.
The work hours stretched infinitely, devouring whole days and offering him a sturdy anchor, a comforting distraction from the deeper currents of his thoughts.
Outside the office, he fell back into things with Sandy, moving like clockwork.
They went out, they met friends, she laughed and bragged to her circle about how he must have missed her, how he came to her first. He let her think what she liked.
Whatever story she wanted to spin around them, he wouldn’t stop her.
But today, sitting at his desk, Logan felt everything begin to slip.
His hands curled tightly, knuckles pale, as he leaned into his own palms, elbows anchored to the desk.
Breathing felt impossible, each breath shallow and choking.
He tugged at his tie, fingers clumsy and desperate to loosen it, but the weight didn’t lift.
Just breathe, count to ten, and it’ll pass.
Damn it.
It wasn’t passing.
A notification buzzed on his phone. He pulled it from his pocket and noticed Sandy’s name lighting up the screen.
Rather than opening the message, he quickly returned the phone to his jacket, focusing straight ahead as if he could force himself to remain in that moment.
However, he felt all the things he believed he had buried creeping closer and pushing harder, determined not to let him be.
Logan rose from his chair and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing over the vast cityscape.
The view was a perk, a privilege even, one he’d always appreciated.
But today, the glittering high-rises and humming streets below felt hollow.
He took a deep breath, but it felt shallow, insufficient.
He checked his phone and saw it was barely noon. To hell with it. He was the boss’s son, and he’d been putting in the hours. He grabbed his things, shut the office door behind him, and headed for the parking garage, barely restraining himself from breaking into a run.
Once behind the wheel of his Mercedes, pulling out from the corporate tower and weaving his way into the stream of cars, he felt some of the tension begin to ease.
He already knew where he was headed, the destination flashing clearly in his mind before he’d even reached the first intersection.
He needed the water—the waves, the salt on his skin, the infinite blue that seemed to carry his worries away, even if just for a little while.
He drove for what felt like forever before he finally reached the beach, the stretch of shoreline he always returned to when he was home.
The traffic crawled, and every stop-and-go only made the gnawing impatience worse.
But at last, he parked. The ocean stretched before him, endless and wild, glittering beneath the early afternoon light.
He longed for the water, to feel it crash around him, to let it pull him under, wrapping him in the power of its swell and pull.
But he sat there, unmoving, his hand resting on the door handle. He watched the waves curl and crash against the shore. He’d come all this way, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to open the door, to step outside and let the ocean swallow him whole.
Finally, he reached for his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen, and without overthinking it, he unlocked it, opened Facebook, and typed in the name that had been haunting him since he’d returned. It was something he had wanted to do countless times before but had always stopped himself.
Adrian Leon.
Logan clicked on the profile, a wave of relief crashing into a storm of agony, nearly bringing him to tears as he took in Adrian’s familiar face, frozen in a moment that felt achingly distant.
He scrolled down, searching for any sign of life, but the emptiness was palpable—no updates, no posts, nothing since the day he’d left.
A question crept into his mind: Did Adrian think of him too?
He shut his eyes tightly, squeezing out the thought, battling the emotions swirling within him.
I need to block him here too, he told himself, a voice of reason amidst the chaos.
Yet the idea felt like severing the last tether connecting him to Adrian, and he hesitated, hand trembling over the message option.
He needed to reach out, to bridge the chasm that had formed between them.
As he shook his arm slightly, the sleeve of his shirt slipped back, unveiling a black and silver bracelet wrapped around his wrist—a delicate creation spun from strands of dark thread.
At its center, held on either side by the black thread, lay a small lifesaver charm, a poignant token of their entwined past. His fingers found it instinctively, caressing the strings with his fingers, tracing the charm as if it were a lifeline, something solid to grasp amidst the turmoil of his emotions.
It was merely a bracelet, a simple adornment, yet it infused him with an unforeseen solace, even as it evoked the anguish that gnawed at his heart.
The weight of yearning threatened to crush him, and in a moment of desperation, he slammed his hand against the steering wheel, frustration surging within him.
Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, and he hastily closed the app, shoving the phone back into his pocket, terrified of the chaos that might ensue if he relinquished control once more.
He wanted to scream, to let the anguish spill out in a cacophony of sound, but instead, he pulled away, driving back to his parents’ home, the weight of his thoughts heavy in the silence.
As he navigated the familiar streets, he felt like a ghost haunting his own life, the laughter of the past echoing in his mind while he sat in silence, pretending he could escape the darkness that loomed inside him.
As soon as he stepped through the door, a surge of determination propelled him up the stairs to his father’s office. It didn’t surprise him to find his father there, poring over work even in the evening light.
“Logan,” his father acknowledged, looking up as Logan stormed in. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.” Logan closed the door behind him, standing resolutely in front of his father’s desk.
Logan had no idea what he was about to say until the words were out. He was somewhat convinced he would mention Adrian, but wasn’t that ridiculous? He would never share anything about Adrian with his father. So why was he there? What had prompted his rush to come?
“I want to propose to Sandy,” he blurted, the words escaping his mouth like a confession he hadn’t meant to utter.
His father regarded him with a piercing gaze through his glasses, then pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, straightening his jacket as a proud smile spread across his face. “I think that’s an amazing idea, Logan. One of the best you’ve ever had.”
Logan inhaled deeply, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest, but it felt hollow. He was trying to fill a void with Sandy, to bury the darkness that was clawing at him. The corners of his mouth lifted in a tentative smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“You know,” his father continued, “being a man is about making the right choices. Deciding to move on with your life is one of those choices. I have to admit, when you packed your bag and set off for God knows where, I had my doubts about your maturity. But lately, son, I see you growing into the man I always hoped you would become.” His father’s hand landed firmly on his shoulder.
“Starting a family—that’s what truly matters. I’m really proud of you, Logan.”
Inside, Logan crumbled a little more. His father’s pride rang in his ears like applause for a part he hadn’t wanted to play, the sound chasing him deeper into a life that wasn’t his.
He forced himself to nod, to accept the praise, but all he could think about was how every choice he made was dragging him further away from the person he truly wanted to be.
His shaking fingers found the bracelet again, the cool metal carrying the echo of Adrian’s touch or perhaps only the echo his longing had invented.
“Thanks, Dad,” Logan managed, his voice barely above a whisper, a mix of gratitude and guilt tightening around his chest.
“I…” His father began, clearing his throat as if steeling himself for the words that were about to follow. “One question, Logan.”
“Yeah?” Logan braced himself, sensing the weight of the inquiry.
“Do you love her?”
Logan swallowed hard, the question hanging in the air like a fragile glass ornament, cradling every secret that the fraying mask of his smile fought to hide.
One small push, and it would fall and shatter as it hit the unforgiving ground, releasing a cascade of secrets like ghostly whispers spilling into the silence.
“I… I know her well, and we’ve been together for a long time…” he mumbled, the truth of his words feeling inadequate, as if they were merely a shield against the deeper reality.
His father nodded thoughtfully, a smile creeping onto his face.
“Don’t worry, son. You will love her with time.
She’s a good match for you. Your feelings will grow.
You don’t marry who you love; you marry who’s right for you.
Love will come with time. And if it doesn’t, well, that’s really not a big deal, because you’ll be with someone good for you. ”
Logan felt as if the ground beneath him might crack open and swallow him whole.
He wanted to scream, to tear apart the facade he was trying to uphold.
He didn’t love Sandy—not at all. She was lovely and kind, a warm presence in his chaotic life, but she didn’t spark that exhilarating tingle in his chest or the electric thrill that surged through him when he thought of Adrian.
There was no excitement, no rush of adrenaline; just a steady, comfortable rhythm that felt more like resignation than love.
“I’d love to come with you,” his father said, breaking through Logan’s turbulent thoughts. “What do you say? Take your old man with you to search for the perfect ring?”
“Sure… tomorrow?” Logan replied, his heart heavy as he forced a smile, the prospect of ring shopping feeling like a final nail in the coffin of his own desires.