Chapter Six Logan
Chapter Six
Logan
I make my way to the dining area, still feeling the lingering effects of the tension between Grace and me. My thoughts are all over the place, and I’m hoping dinner will be a distraction, something to clear my head. The second I step onto the terrace and see Samantha sitting with Joseph and Emily, that hope vanishes.
Samantha. Of course, she’d show up here.
I know she’s still sort of friends with Emily and Joseph, but I never expected to see her here, now, after everything that’s happened today. My stomach tightens, and I instantly regret coming down for dinner. All I wanted was a quiet meal, maybe a chance to talk to Grace, but now…
Samantha looks up as I approach the table, her eyes narrowing slightly before she smooths her expression into a practiced smile. “Logan,” she says, her tone as smooth as ever, like we’re old friends catching up instead of exes who haven’t spoken in months. “Long time no see.”
I force a tight smile, but my heart isn’t in it. “Samantha,” I acknowledge, keeping my voice neutral. I slip into the empty chair next to Grace, who’s staring down at her menu, pretending to be completely absorbed in it. The tension radiating off her is palpable, and I can’t help but notice the way her shoulders are stiff, her jaw tight. She’s not looking at me, but I can tell she knows exactly what’s going on.
As we settle in, the waiter comes by to take our drink orders. Samantha immediately starts chatting to me, her voice light, casual, as if she’s trying to pick up where we left off. “So, what have you been up to, Logan? Still running that company of yours? I’ve heard it’s doing really well.”
I nod, keeping my answers short. “Yeah, it’s going well. Busy as always.”
She leans in slightly, her tone turning just a touch more personal. “We should catch up properly while I’m here. Maybe grab a drink later?”
I can feel Grace stiffen beside me, and that’s when it hits me—she’s jealous. The realization is like a jolt to my system, making me see everything in a different light. Grace has been distant since that kiss in the woods, but now, with Samantha here, she’s practically radiating tension. Not just any tension—jealousy.
I never expected Grace to feel anything more than what we agreed to, but seeing her like this, so clearly affected by Samantha’s presence, it makes me wonder if there’s more to this than I realized. Maybe Grace’s feelings run deeper than she’s letting on.
Samantha keeps talking, but I’m barely paying attention, my focus shifting entirely to Grace. I try to engage her, leaning closer and lowering my voice. “Grace, what do you think about grabbing dinner at that little beachside place tomorrow? Just the two of us.”
She doesn’t look up, her eyes still fixed on the menu. “Maybe,” she says, her tone clipped, dismissive. It’s clear she’s doing everything she can to ignore me, but her clenched jaw and the way she’s practically crushing the menu in her hands tell me all I need to know.
Samantha doesn’t miss the interaction, and I can see the faint smirk on her lips as she glances between us. “You two seem close,” she remarks, her voice dripping with curiosity.
I don’t hesitate. “We are,” I say firmly, my gaze still on Grace. “Very close. Actually, we’re engaged.”
Grace finally looks up at that, her eyes meeting mine, and for a brief moment, there’s something raw and vulnerable in her expression. It’s gone just as quickly, replaced by a mask of indifference.
“Can you pass the water, Logan?” she asks, her voice so flat it’s almost painful. I hand her the water jug, and she takes it without another word, turning her attention back to the table like she’s trying to block everything out.
The rest of the dinner goes by in a blur. Samantha keeps trying to engage me in conversation, but I’m not interested. My mind is too tangled up in Grace, in the way she’s acting, in the jealousy that’s so clearly eating at her. It’s messing with my head, making me question everything about this fake engagement, about the kiss we shared earlier.
By the time the waiter brings our drinks, I’m barely holding onto my patience. All I want is to get Grace alone, to talk to her, to figure out what the hell is going on between us. But she won’t even look at me, and the more she shuts me out, the more I’m convinced that there’s something real here—something neither of us was ready for.
As the night drags on, I find myself growing more frustrated, more determined to get to the bottom of this. I can’t let things stay like this, with Grace closing herself off and Samantha hovering like some unwanted ghost from my past. I need to know if what I think is happening is real, or if this is just another layer of the mess we’ve created.
When dinner finally ends, I stand up, ready to make my move. Grace is already excusing herself, mumbling something about needing to get some fresh air, and before I can stop her, she’s gone, disappearing into the night.
Every instinct in me screams to go after her, to fix whatever it is that’s unraveling between us. But before I can take a step, I feel a hand on my arm.
“Logan,” Samantha’s voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I turn to face her, and the frustration that’s been simmering all evening boils over.
“What do you want, Samantha?” My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but I don’t care. I’m done playing nice.
She flinches slightly, but then her expression hardens, her eyes narrowing. “I just wanted to catch up. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, there’s a reason for that,” I snap, yanking my arm free from her grasp. “We broke up over a year ago, Samantha. You’re not part of this wedding, you’re not part of my life anymore. So why are you here? Why are you trying to chat me up like nothing ever happened?”
Her eyes flash with something—anger, maybe, or guilt—but she quickly masks it with that infuriating calm she’s always been so good at. “I’m friends with Emily and Joseph. I was invited, Logan. I have every right to be here.”
“Maybe,” I concede, but my patience is wearing thin. “That doesn’t give you the right to act like everything between us is fine. It’s not. You cheated on me, remember? We’re done.”
Samantha’s expression falters for a moment, and I can see the cracks in her facade. Instead of backing off, she presses on, her voice turning cold. “What about Grace, then? That engagement happened very quickly, didn’t it? I can’t help but wonder if you’re just trying to prove something to yourself. Or maybe you were the one cheating.”
Her words hit a nerve, but I refuse to let her see it. I step closer, lowering my voice to a dangerous whisper. “Grace has nothing to do with you. Or us. What we have is none of your business.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “You expect me to believe that you suddenly found the one right after we broke up? Please, Logan. I know you better than that.”
“No, you don’t,” I say, my voice laced with finality. “You lost that right when you betrayed me. Whatever you’re trying to do here, it’s not going to work. So just go away, Samantha. Leave Grace and me alone.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I’m already turning away, done with the conversation. I can’t waste any more time on her—not when Grace is out there, slipping further out of my reach with every passing second.
Samantha’s voice fades into the background as I stride away, my thoughts entirely consumed by Grace. Every second that passes feels like she’s slipping further away from me, and the knot of urgency in my chest tightens. I have to find her, have to talk to her, before this all spirals even more out of control.
I head straight for the suite, taking the stairs two at a time, not trusting the elevator to get me there fast enough. By the time I reach the door, I’m breathless, my heart pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with the climb. I hesitate for just a moment, gathering myself, before I push the door open.
Grace is standing by the window, her back to me, staring out at the night. The light from the room casts a soft glow around her, but there’s a tension in her posture that tells me she’s anything but calm. I take a step inside, closing the door behind me, but she doesn’t turn around.
“Grace,” I start, my voice more uncertain than I’d like. “We need to talk.”
She finally turns to face me, her expression guarded, her eyes dark and unreadable. “There’s nothing to talk about, Logan. We’re just doing what we agreed to, right? Keeping up the act.”
The way she says it—so detached, so distant—makes something inside me snap. I close the distance between us in a few quick strides, frustration and something deeper boiling over. “This isn’t just an act, and you know it. I’m not interested in Samantha, or anyone else. Why the hell can’t you see that?”
She crosses her arms, her jaw tight, refusing to meet my gaze. “Why should I care, Logan? It’s not like this is real. We’re just pretending, remember?”
Her words hit me like a slap, and I feel the frustration twist into something sharper. I step even closer, my voice low and fierce. “Don’t do that, Grace. Don’t pretend like you don’t care when we both know that’s bullshit.”
She finally looks at me, her eyes flashing with anger and something that looks a lot like hurt. “You loved her, didn’t you? You loved Samantha.”
The question takes me off guard, and for a moment, I can’t find the words. I know I can’t leave it hanging there, not with everything at stake. “Yeah,” I admit, the truth coming out in a rough whisper. “I did love her. That doesn’t mean we were good for each other; it sure as hell doesn’t mean I want her back.”
Grace blinks, clearly not expecting that. “But… she was everything you wanted. Perfect, beautiful, polished. Why wouldn’t you want that again?”
I shake my head, the frustration giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. “She was never what I needed, Grace. We weren’t good together. We brought out the worst in each other, and that’s why it ended. What we had… it wasn’t real, not in the way that matters.”
Grace stares at me, her defenses cracking just a little, and I can see the struggle in her eyes. “So what do you want, Logan? If it’s not her, if it’s not some perfect image, then what?”
Her question hangs in the air, and for a moment, I’m at a loss. Part of me wants to admit that I’m just as confused as she is, that maybe there’s something more between us that I haven’t figured out yet. I can’t. The words stick in my throat, and instead of facing what’s right in front of me, I feel that old, familiar defense mechanism kick in—the one that makes me snap when I’m too close to something real.
“You’re only getting upset because of what happened on the hike,” I shoot back, the words coming out harsher than I intend. “You wanted this stupid fake engagement, right? So why are you acting like it’s something more? You have no right to be jealous when it’s not real.”
Grace’s eyes widen, her hurt turning into anger as she processes what I just said. “Jealous? You think I’m jealous of Samantha? That I’m just reacting to… to whatever that was on the hike?” Her voice rises, and I can see the tension building in her shoulders, the way she’s trying to hold back her emotions.
I know I’ve crossed a line, but I can’t stop myself. The words keep spilling out, driven by the frustration and confusion I can’t seem to shake. “Yeah, I do, because this was your idea, Grace! You wanted the fake engagement, you wanted to keep your family off your back. So why are you getting so worked up over something that isn’t even real?”
Her expression hardens, and I can see the wall going back up, brick by brick. “You’re such an ass, Logan. I thought—” She stops herself, biting her lip, but I can see the words she’s holding back, the ones that would probably make everything worse.
“What? You thought what?” I press, even though I know I shouldn’t. The tension in the room is suffocating, and I can feel the argument spiraling out of control, but I can’t seem to back down.
Grace shakes her head, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “I thought you were better than this. I thought you could at least be honest with yourself, with me. You’re just hiding behind this stupid act, pretending like nothing matters when it clearly does.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the urge to say something cruel, something I’ll definitely regret, is overwhelming. I can feel it bubbling up, but before I can lash out, I turn on my heel and head for the balcony door.
I step outside, the cool night air hitting me like a splash of cold water. I grip the railing tightly, forcing myself to take deep breaths, to calm down before I say something that will push her away for good. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore below does little to soothe the storm raging inside me.
What the hell is happening? How did we get here? I came up here to talk, to make things right, but all I’ve done is make it worse. The truth is, Grace is right—I’m hiding. I don’t know how to face what’s really going on between us. I don’t know how to admit that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t just a game anymore.
I hear the door behind me open, and I tense, waiting for whatever comes next. Grace doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, the silence between us thick with everything we’re not saying.
I can’t bring myself to look at her, can’t bring myself to face the reality of what I’ve done. So I keep my eyes on the horizon, trying to calm the chaotic mess in my head, and wondering if I’ve already lost whatever chance we had to figure this out.