That breaks something sacred in me.
The kitchen door creaks open, and I don’t look. I already know it’s him.
His footsteps falter when he sees me.
Still, I don’t move.
He walks closer, slow—like he knows he’s approaching something fragile. Something bleeding.
Then, his voice. Quiet. Frayed at the edges.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now… it’s not true.”
I don’t answer. Don’t blink. Don’t breathe.
“Mackayla,” he tries again, my name a prayer dragged across gravel, “I saw the article too. I knew it would hurt you. But I didn’t know it would tear you open like this.”
A beat. Then another.
“I love you,” he says, the words cracking, “more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than I ever thought I could. And I don’t mean in the soft, pretty way people say it. I mean the kind of love that hurts. The kind that strips you raw. That owns every inch of who you are—every scar, every mistake, every broken piece. That’s how I love you.”
I slowly raise my eyes to his.
And what I see there shatters me all over again.
Logan Dale—on the edge. Unshaven. Eyes red-rimmed. Shoulders sagging with the weight of it all.
A single tear slips down his cheek. Not fast. Not dramatic.
Just honest.
And God, it breaks me.
Because I’ve never seen him like this. Not even when Braden died. This is different. This is him, laid bare.
“This love…” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “it’s not out of guilt. Or grief. Or some twisted loyalty to your brother. It’s because I can’t breathe without you. Because everything I’ve ever done, everything I’ve survived—led me here. To you.”
He steps closer.
“I can’t go back to a life where you’re not mine, Mac. I won’t. I know I’ve made mistakes. Too many. I know there were others. But what I feel for you? That’s never happened before. You’re not some fix or distraction. You’re the only real thing I’ve ever had.”
His chest rises and falls hard, like even saying the words costs him.
“I don’t care what the world says. I don’t care about gossip or backlash or the mess we’ll have to walk through together. Let them come for us. Let them try to tear us down. Because what we have? It’s worth fighting for.”
He looks at me then—eyes flooded, heart in his hands.
“I love you, Mackayla. With everything I am. And everything I’ll ever be.”
The second the words leave his mouth—I love you, Mackayla. With everything I am—something in me gives out.
It’s not weakness.
It’s surrender.
Because the truth is, I’ve been holding myself together with frayed threads and false walls, and now… I can’t anymore. I don’t want to.
I move before I even think about it.
