“Don’t, Kellan.”
“Logan. She lost the baby.”
My thumbs pressed against my eyes to hold back the tears. “Don’t say that, Kel. Don’t say that.” I shoved him. “Don’t say that to me.”
“I’m so sorry, Logan.”
I began to sob into the palms of my hands, shaking hysterically. I did it. I caused the accident, I did this. It’s all my fault. Kellan wrapped his arms around me as I fell apart, unable to speak any words, unable to stop the hurt, unable to breathe. Each inhale felt painful, each exhale, a chore.
Chapter Thirteen
Alyssa
“Hey,” Logan whispered, walking into my hospital room. He was in his regular clothes, and the few bruises on his face didn’t seem that bad. I hoped he knew how lucky he was to walk away from that accident.
“Hi.” For the past day I sat in the hospital bed debating what I’d say to him. My emotions traveled up and down, going back and forth between grief and rage for a long time. I wanted to scream at him nonstop. I wanted to tell him how much I blamed him, how much resentment I held for him to even question my motives with the baby. I knew his dreams, and I knew his heart. I knew we could’ve found a way to make it work. But, he disappeared. I wanted to hate him for a little while, but the moment I saw him, everything inside of me switched.
I was simply heartbroken.
He opened his mouth, but shut it fast. His fingers ruffled through his hair, and he wouldn’t make eye contact. Everything felt like a dream—how close we stood, but how far away we still felt. It was a dream that I couldn’t shake, and I wanted Logan to be the one to wake me.
I wanted him to promise me that this was simply a dream that had somehow turned into a vile nightmare, but that when dawn came, I’d wake up.
I wanted to wake up. Please God…wake me up.
I sat on the right side of the bed, and my knees bent up to my chest. I choked on each breath I took. The air in the room was stuffy, toxic, dead. My need to cry grew heavier and heavier as my body shook. Just looking at Logan broke my heart into a million pieces, but I didn’t shed a tear. “I’m fine,” I finally said, feeling in every bone of my body that I wasn’t.
“Can I hold you?” he asked.
“No,” I said coldly.
“Okay,” he replied.
I looked down to my shaky hands, my mind jumbled. “Yes.”
“Yes?” he asked, his voice heightening a bit.
“Yes.”
His hand landed on my shoulder before he climbed into the hospital bed and wrapped me up into his hold. I shivered when I felt his fingers touch my skin for the first time in a long time as his fingers wrapped around me. “I’m sorry, High.”
His touch was so warm…
You came back to me.
The tears fell down my cheeks. My body was shaking uncontrollably as Logan held on strong, refusing to let go of me any time soon. Our foreheads fell against one another, and his warm tears intermixed with mine. “I’m so fucking sorry, High.” We stayed wrapped together, feeling the world on our shoulders, until we both fell asleep.
He came back.
When I awakened to find him still holding me, as if I were his lifeline, I turned my body to face him. He was sleeping; his inhales and exhales almost a whisper. My hands moved to his hands and I locked our fingers together. He stirred a bit before opening his eyes.
“Alyssa, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know you were—I didn’t…” I’d never heard such vulnerability in his voice. The Logan who left my house weeks ago was so detached from me, from his emotions. But now, hearing him cry as he wrapped his hands around my face made the little bit of my heart that was still beating shatter. “I shouldn’t have gone off the deep end. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve talked to you. But now, because of me—because of me…” He buried his head into my shoulder as he lost himself. “I killed him,” he said, speaking of the baby. “It’s my fault.”
I took my hands and cradled his face the way he held mine. “Logan. Don’t do this to yourself.” I could almost feel the blame he felt as his eyes spilled out with emotion. I nestled my head against his neck and my hot breaths melted against his skin. My hooded eyes were exhausted and I blinked a few times before closing them and muttering against his ear. “Don’t do this to yourself.” I couldn’t hate him. No matter what happened, hating Logan wasn’t something I’d ever be able to do, but loving him? That love was always going to be there. We’d figure out how to move on from the terrible tragic accident together. It was us against the world, we’d stand together.
“I’m leaving,” he said, pulling himself together, wiping his eyes dry.
I sat up, alarmed. “What?”