I knew he was telling the truth, and part of me was frightened by that, but it didn't matter. When I thought of all the possible paths that could stem from that moment, only one of them wasn't shrouded in darkness. "What I need is to keep feeling like there's some hope that things will get better," I said, "and I didn't have that until I met you. Everything has been dark for so long. Every happy memory I ever had seems to involve Tom, and now that he's gone I'm terrified I'll never have any more. But ten minutes ago, when we were...together, for the first time since he died, that feeling was gone. I felt peaceful. You have no idea what that means to me."
He looked shaken, his mouth pulled into a tight little line. "Jesus," he said, closing his eyes.
"I know you want to protect me and I appreciate that, but I'm a big girl, Logan. I can make my own decisions. Maybe this really is a terrible idea. Maybe I'll wake up in a week and it will hurt too much. Maybe it will break me. But we both know we can't go on like this, torturing one another. If it's a choice between losing you all together or taking that risk, then for me it's no choice at all."
His breath was coming long and hard. Conflict raged across his face. "I need to think."
"Okay." The irony of the situation did not escape me. Here I was wrestling with the ghost of a dead lover, yet Logan was the unsure one. But what else could I say?
"You should go home," he said, pausing at the door.
"In a minute."
All I got in reply was a quick nod.
When he'd left, I lay there alone on the mats, fresh tears brimming in my eyes. Was he correct? Was this a recipe for disaster? I had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that it felt right, and that had to count for something.
*****
Logan didn't come to the bar the next day. Whether he wasn't scheduled to work or he traded his shifts, I don't know. I stayed away from the gym. That was his realm, and if he wanted to think then he deserved space. I'd said my piece.
My shift moved at a snail's pace. I tried to distract myself, but my mind only wanted to focus on one thing. There was this immense anxiety clutching at my chest, like I was waiting to hear my prognosis from some crippling illness.
I wanted to hate myself for what I'd done, but I couldn't. I'd told Logan the truth: what I felt for him was real. But my feelings weren't the only ones that mattered. Logan was even more conflicted over this than I was. I didn't know what I'd do if he said no. I was making progress, but losing him would be another blow, and I didn't know if I had the strength to recover from that. There are only so many times you can fall before you don't get back up again.
It seemed like he was going to drag his decision out further, but as I was cleaning up after my shift, I heard a voice from across the room. "I'm not just afraid for you."
I glanced up to find him standing in the doorway. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I know you think I've got my shit under control, and most of the time I do, but it's by the skin of my teeth. Routine, repetition, knowing my limits, that's how I get by. But last night, that wasn't part of the plan. All that stuff you said about being happy for the first time in forever, that's how it was for me too, and it scares the shit out of me. I told you that when Fi left, I didn't blame her, and that was the truth, but it still hurt like hell. Everything was falling apart around me, and she was the only good thing I had left. After that, I just let myself go numb. It was the only way to cope." He stepped closer, his face a mask of intensity. "But I'm not numb anymore. I can't be. What I felt for Fi was like a candle next to the fucking sun compared to this." He gave a little shake of his head. "I don't know if I can come back from this one."
It made my heart ache hearing such sweet words, but there was a tremble of fear there, too. He was right. The connection between us was potent, which meant that the stakes were impossibly high. If we went ahead, it could spell disaster for both of us but, at the same time, I think we'd already gone too far to turn back. For better or for worse, we were in this. "So what are you saying?"
He hesitated. "I'm saying that I'm terrified, but I don't think I've got a choice. I can't ignore this either, Grace."
Relief surged through me, and I ran to embrace him. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly against his chest. That position already felt scarily like home.
"It's going to be hard," he said.
I didn't have any illusions about that. "Nothing can be harder than the last few months."
He didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. I liked that he was willing to be vulnerable with me. At first glance, he came across like one of those guys who is all machismo, but beneath that rugged exterior lay an emotional, sensitive, wounded man.