I lift her hand to my chest, pressing it where my heart pounds like a war drum.
“This heart? It doesn’t beat right without you.”
Her lip quivers.
Her fingers tremble.
And then her shoulders shake.
And then…she breaks.
Tears fall hard and fast. She covers her mouth like she’s trying to trap the sob building in her throat.
But it comes anyway. And it guts me.
“I can’t—” Her voice cracks. “Logan, I can’t stop seeing it.”
I move to kneel in front of her close—but not touching. Because she hasn’t given me permission to hold her yet. And I won’t take anything she doesn’t offer freely.
“The thought of you with someone else…” She chokes on the words. “Your hands—your mouth—your touch bringing someone else pleasure….” She shudders, pain twisting her face. “It destroys me.”
My lungs forget how to work.
“I know it was before. I know it wasn’t us. But it feels like us. It feels like you gave away parts of you I thought were mine. And now I have to live with the ghosts of them inside me, clawing at my ribs every time I close my eyes.”
She curls in on herself, shrinking beneath the weight of it all.
And I swear—my soul splits.
“I hate that I feel this way,” she whispers. “I hate that I can’t separate it. But I can’t help it. I see it, Logan. I see you—with them. And it makes me want to throw up.”
My hands hover near her knees, desperate to anchor her—but how do you fix the kind of pain that bleeds from you past into someone else’s present?
“Mac…” her name falls from my lips like a prayer. “I’m so fucking sorry. For all of it.” She looks at me then. Eyes red, nose running, mascara streaked. Beautiful. Broken. Brave as hell.
“I need time,” she says. “To learn how to breathe around the memory of something I never witnessed but can’t unsee. To feel safe in your arms again.” I nod, even though it hurts like hell.
“I’ll wait,” I whisper. “As long as it takes. Just don’t shut me out. Don’t push me so far away I forget what your voice sounds like.” She doesn’t answer.
“Even if you don’t love me right now, I’ll keep loving you, Mac. Loud enough for both of us. Until the hurt fades and the truth wins.”
Chapter 25
Kayla
The old coffee machine rattles as it brews, groaning like it resents the late-night shift. I stand barefoot on the kitchen tiles, Logan’s hoodie swallowing me whole, sleeves bunched at my wrists. The fabric still smells like him—salt skin, worn leather, and something that clings to my ribs like regret.
The house is quiet, but not silent.
Laughter drifts in through the open window from the porch, where the guys are circled around the fire pit—voices low, casual, almost comforting in their normalcy. Trey’s laugh carries above the rest, bold and familiar. Logan’s is quieter. Tired. Like he’s still trying to remember how to be okay.
I stare at the coffee dripping into the pot.
Then I grab my phone.
I know I shouldn’t. I’ve told myself that a dozen times today. But my fingers betray me, and within seconds, I’m scrolling. Searching. Sinking deeper.
#LoganDale #ScandalInThePines #GroupieOrGirlfriend
