I run the brush through the ends of my hair one more time. My fingers are shaking.
But it’s my voice that breaks when I whisper, “I don’t know where home is anymore.”
That’s when he moves.
Logan’s hands come to rest on my shoulders—warm, steady. His eyes locking with mine in the mirror. Solid. Unflinching.
“I do,” he says, voice low. “I do, Mac. And if you’ll let me… I’ll take you there.”
A single tear slides down my cheek before I even feel it coming. It traces a slow burn down to my jaw and drops, silent and shattering, into my lap.
Logan sees it.
He doesn’t speak—doesn’t need to. His hands tighten on my shoulders, then gently turn me toward him. He sinks to his knees in front of me, his gaze level with mine like I’m the only thing in the world worth looking at.
His thumb brushes away the second tear.
“Hey,” he whispers. “You don’t have to figure it all out today.”
I try to respond, but nothing comes. My throat’s too tight, my chest too full.
Then he does the one thing I didn’t know I needed.
He pulls me up from the bed, straight into his arms.
My fists grip the fabric of his shirt, burying my face into the warmth of his shoulder as his arms wrap around me like a promise. Like he’s anchoring me to something solid. Something safe.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, lips in my hair. “I’ve got you, Mac.”
I tremble. But I let it come. The fear. The relief. The ache of not being alone in this.
He sways us gently, like music plays only for us. His lips brush the side of my head.
“Wherever you go, I go. Got it?”
I nod, too choked up to answer.
Maybe home isn’t a place.
Maybe it’s a person.
And maybe… maybe that person has been here all along.
We stay like that—his arms around me, my cheek to his chest, his heartbeat steady and sure beneath my ear.
Eventually, I pull back just enough to look at him. His hands settle lightly at my waist.
“Logan?” My voice is small. Fragile.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah?”
“What if I don’t remember everything?” I ask. “What if I never go back to the person I was?”
His gaze softens. “Then we make new memories.”
I bite my lip. “But what if I’m different now? What if the version of me you loved doesn’t come back?”
He brushes his knuckles down my cheek. Tender. Sure.
