Chapter VI
VI
LOGAN
It was meant to be an uneventful night out with friends to see in the New Year, when he saw her from across the room.
There she was, standing at the bar in a short black dress and a pair of red ankle boots.
He’d grown so accustomed to the androgynous indie fashion she wore that he couldn’t help but stare.
“Who is that?” Tad asked, noticing his gaze.
“A reporter I know.”
“She’s cute.”
Jessamine glanced at him, her eyes narrowing. “Wait, that’s her…isn’t it?”
His stomach twisted. In a drunken moment, he’d shared with her about Daisy, labelling her as the mystery girl he couldn’t forget and his secret pen pal. Now, he wasn’t sure if he’d come to regret that choice.
Tad looked at her. “Her? What am I missing here?”
“None of your business,” Jessamine teased. “Come on, let’s go find a table outside and then order our drinks.”
They left him standing at the bar, and before he could stop himself, his feet began moving towards her, as if guided by something outside his control. His pulse quickened with each step.
What was he doing? He wasn’t even sure anymore.
“Miss Daisy,” he said with a smirk, sliding in beside her.
She covered her mouth in surprise, but it didn’t hide the way her eyes brightened. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he added, trying to sound playful.
She laughed, but there was a hint of something else in it—something sweet, maybe even a little tipsy. Then she touched his arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You have to stop appearing then,” she replied, sipping her drink.
Before he could respond, Kate interrupted them.
“You two can talk later,” she said, sending Daisy a pointed look.
It was subtle, but Logan caught it. He’d heard the rumours; Kate had always been a bit too interested in him for comfort.
She was attractive, and Tad labelled him mad for not taking the chance, but they moved in the same circles, and he wasn’t ready for anything messy to come from that.
“I need a drink,” she said to Daisy, “and he’s buying the first round.”
He watched Daisy's face flatten, almost as if she assumed Kate was his other half. “Sorry,” he mouthed to her. “Give me a moment.”
The others, after searching for a table outside with no luck, reappeared, and he introduced Daisy to them before quickly ordering a round of drinks. He had to know if she was alone, and just as he was about to ask, a guy appeared.
Logan knew his type. From the faded white Adidas shoes to the too-tight, cologne-soaked dress shirt, he was the epitome of someone who’d peaked in high school; the kind of narcissistic and self-righteous nobody who smiled like he owned the world, but underneath it all was just a boy trying to impress everyone around him.
He draped an arm around Daisy, pulling her closer in a way that made Logan’s chest tighten. It wasn’t the casual kind of arm-over-the-shoulder; it was possessive, like he had a claim on her. It had to be him—the boyfriend.
“So, who is this?” he said, eyeing Logan up and down.
He could see in her face that Daisy was uncomfortable, and when she fumbled for an answer, he cut in.
“Logan.”
The guy chewed loudly, tightening his grip on Daisy’s shoulders. It all clicked into place. This was him, the one Daisy had called “not ideal” that day at The Horseman, and she was spot on. Logan had barely exchanged a few words with him and already knew he was a total bellend.
“Well, Logan, if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal my girlfriend away.”
His gaze met Daisy's, and he caught a brief flicker of silent pleading in her eyes. He should’ve stepped in, and part of him wanted to, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure if doing so would only make her suffer later.
So, he stood by as he pulled her away, and then Kate, seemingly amused by the whole situation, laughed.
“What?” he said, turning to face her.
“Come on, Logan. A girl who picks that over you isn’t worth your time. Who does he think he is, Ali G?”
He ignored her remark and watched Daisy from across the room.
They were arguing, and around them, people had begun to look.
Then, just as it looked like he’d pulled up her dress and was about to strike her, she freed herself from his grip and bolted for the bathroom.
Instinctively, Logan followed, and when he found her, she was staring at her reflection in the mirror.
“You can’t be in here,” she said without looking at him.
At that moment, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to confess that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since the day they’d met. But instead, impulse took over, and he took a step forward, pulling her into his arms.
Resting his head against hers, he closed his eyes. It was unexplainable, even to him, how her touch made him feel. It was as if their souls knew they belonged to dance together, but life’s tempo was offbeat.
“Sometimes, we settle for what we think we deserve and not what we need,” he whispered, swaying gently. “Don’t do that to yourself, Daisy. Don’t settle just because. You’re far too beautiful and intelligent for that.”
He held her for another minute, his arms tightening around her as if trying to keep her there, to hold onto something that was slipping away faster than he could grasp.
“Until we meet again,” he managed to force out, releasing her.
She didn’t need to say anything; her silence said it all. He could feel it in the way she held herself, in the way she didn’t try to pull away or fight him—this was goodbye.
In the weeks following their parting, Daisy remained a persistent presence in his thoughts.
He reached out to her several times, sending a dozen emails, each one met with nothing but silence.
As the months passed, he was forced to accept that Daisy’s life had likely moved in the direction she’d intended, and that any connection between them was fading into the past.
Meanwhile, despite the obvious differences between Kate and him, they decided to give their relationship a chance.
Six months in, she proposed. He saw it coming from the subtle hints she'd dropped, comments about their ages, how they were the last of their circle to marry. He knew he should’ve said no, but when the moment came, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He liked Kate, but he didn’t love her. Still, he convinced himself, perhaps out of duty or a sense of obligation, that they could make it work.
Unlike the other women he’d known, it wasn’t his money that attracted her; Kate’s desires were more complex than that.
As she approached forty, what she wanted from him above all else was children—his children.
Perhaps he was being selfish or foolish for allowing it to happen.
There were too many things about her, and too many things about him, that left him unsettled in ways he couldn't just ignore.
She had an insatiable need for approval, always seeking validation from everyone around her, and an impulsive nature that saw her draining her finances on luxury handbags and regular visits to high-end salons, places where celebrities would go to reinvent themselves.
She had strong opinions on everything: his clothes, his job, the way he made coffee in the morning.
He had to take the risk, or he'd be left alone, and though he kept telling everyone he was okay with that, deep down, he wasn't—not really.