I wasn’t ready to let our marriage slip away so easily. I just needed time away from the house that continued to shelter our lies and secrets, festering until they chewed me up and spit me out.
When I get to Abby’s apartment, I text Logan telling him I made it safely. Afterward, I turn my phone on silent.
I knock on Abby’s door, my bag over my shoulder. It’s nearly three in the morning and it isn’t until I’m on her front porch I realize Abby might not even be awake. She surprises me when she swings the door open.
Her apartment is dark, the light overhead highlighting her face in shadows. “Lena?” she asks.
She’s wearing a long T-shirt and cotton shorts, her silver hair tied high into a messy bun. Her face transforms, realizing the state I’m in. Her eyes fall to my bag then she sighs, bringing me in for a hug.
“Hey. Do you mind if I stay with you tonight?” I hold back the tears, biting my bottom lip. The last seam rips, my heart splitting beneath my chest.
Deep concern embeds her expression. “Come here,” she says, pulling me into her apartment.
I follow her inside, my shoulders slumped. She removes my bag for me, placing it on the small loveseat in the living room. This is the first time I’ve been to Abby’s apartment. She flips the light switch in the kitchen, the light filtering into the living room where I haven’t moved.
“What happened?” she asks, pulling me to sit beside her on the couch. I look up, examining her apartment. There isn’t much to it. A small TV sits on a small gray painted wood table. Plain white walls surround us, not a single picture hanging. The couch we’re sitting on is tiny, barely giving enough room for me and Abby. It looks like Abby’s just moved in, even though she’s lived here a few months.
“Lena?” she asks, running her hand across the back of my head. She tucks my hair behind my ear.
I inhale a shaky breath. It feels like I haven’t spoken in hours, my voice caught in my swollen throat. I clear it, hoping it’ll give me the strength to speak out loud. “I think Logan’s been having an affair.”
Abby sits back in shock, her hand sliding down my back. “Are you sure?”
I nod, wringing my hands in my lap. I twist my fingers, my knuckles curling around each other. My bones are reminders that this is my reality, that the truth has finally been said out loud.
“How do you know?”
Looking up at her, I tilt my head, feeling my eyes grow heavier. “Someone sent me pictures.”
“Pictures?” she asks, confused.
“Yeah.” I nod again, shifting my eyes back to my lap.
“With who?”
“Natalie.” Her name stings on my tongue, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I close my eyes, the picture of her kissing Logan plastered behind my eyelids.
“The chef he’s been training?” I open my eyes, turning to Abby. She sits back, her eyebrows slanting in anger. She purses her lips and shakes her head. “I knew I had a bad feeling about her.”
“What do you mean?” I ask her. Abby never mentioned her concern about Natalie to me.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I just have these feelings about certain people sometimes. I can tell what type of person they are. The way she looked at Logan. The way she talked about him. It gave me this vibe like she was infatuated with him or something.” She points. “Like that time we surprised him for lunch. Wasn’t it odd how they came out from the kitchen? Logan took a long time and then the way Natalie sidled up to him. A little too comfortably if you ask me.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way.” I swipe my hand across my cheek. “Why didn’t you say anything to me about it.”
She shrugs. “I figured it was none of my business.”
I nod, sucking in my bottom lip, digging my teeth into it. It’s the only sensation that makes me feel like this isn’t some crazy dream. This was real.
Abby grits her teeth, wincing. “Can I see the pictures?”
“I guess.” I sigh, pulling out my phone. There’s a text from Logan but I ignore it, going straight for the email. I hand my phone to Abby. “I don’t even want to look at them anymore.”
Abby studies them, taking her time before swiping to the next. Her eyes land on the last one, the one with Natalie and Logan kissing in the parking lot. “Oh, Lena.” she sighs, her shoulders falling. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t...” I swallow the lump in my throat, my emotions coming back up in waves. “I don’t know what to do. He says it isn’t true.”
“Men always try to get away with this shit. It’s like it’s in their DNA.” She rubs my back, her warm palm drawing circles on my back. “Are you going to leave him after this?”
I hesitate, the weight of her question hitting me like a thousand-ton rock landing on my chest. I breathe in. The thought of leaving Logan forever is too much for me to handle. “Maybe.” I wince, the word holding no weight. “I don’t know. Logan’s different, Abby,” I tell her, tilting my head to her once again. “I want to believe him, I do. It’s just, I feel like we’ve been keeping so many secrets from one another that I’m having a hard time deciding between what’s fact or fiction.”
“What kind of secrets? I thought you told each other everything?”
I stare into her eyes, the guilt rising in me. Like Logan, I haven’t told Abby about my emails from Julian. If I can’t even tell Logan about them, how can I bring myself to tell Abby? Despite the situation Logan has put us in, I still value our marriage. “Nothing really. Just small things.” I keep it vague, not wanting to tell her too much and worry her. “I’m okay.”
“Okay.” Abby stands, resting her hands on her hips as she stares down at me. “How about we have a glass of wine then snuggle up and watch some TV? We’ll figure out this Logan nonsense later.”
“Abby, it’s three in the morning.” I groan, feeling a small giggle rise in my chest. “I think I just need some time to shut my mind off.” A feeling of comfort washes over me, knowing Abby only wants me to be happy. She’s only wanted what was best for me.
I’ve spent the last few months trying to make up for the damage I’ve caused in our friendship. But tonight, I’m not sure I have it in me. I want to indulge her and accept her offer, but the pain in my chest is too much.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice growing smaller.
“I’m sorry, I think I just need some sleep.” I sit back on the couch, resting my head against the soft velvet cushion. Closing my eyes, I can feel the sleep quickly taking me over. Even though I had packed nearly my entire wardrobe, I didn’t intend on staying at Abby’s more than one night. I didn’t want to run from my problems with Logan, I wanted to work them out, I just needed to do it when it didn’t feel like my heart was being constricted every time I looked at him.
“Lena.”
Weight presses against my thighs, causing me to lift my head and open my eyes. I crack them open, finding Abby standing right in front of me. She’s bent over, her hands clasped around the top of my knees.
“You don’t have to sleep out here.” She grins, jerking her head back toward the hallway. “Come on. The bed will be a lot more comfortable than the couch.”
As if Abby’s words wake me up, I suddenly realize what she means. The cushion behind me is nearly as hard as a rock, digging into my spine. Agreeing, I stand up and follow her down the hall. Just like the main living space, the walls are void of any decoration. She leaves the light off as we enter her bedroom. Sitting in the middle of the room is a queen size bed, one small nightstand set to one side. It’s the only two pieces of furniture in the entire room. A small window hangs above her bed, allowing the moonlight to filter through, covering the bed.
She walks over to the bed and lifts the sheet, showing me where I can lay. Accepting her offer, I climb under the sheets, feeling the fluffy white comforter wrap around me. I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. Abby climbs in beside me, resting her head on the pillow. She’s lying close to me, her face only inches from
mine.
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we never became friends in college?” Abby asks, her hand buried under her pillow.
“What do you mean?” I ask her. “Like if we had never met at all?”
“Yeah.” She bites her bottom lip, her eyes searching mine.
“Not really.” I sigh. “I guess if I think about it, if I hadn’t met you I wouldn’t have gathered the strength to leave Julian when I did. I also would have missed out on having a pretty awesome best friend.”
“Did you miss me when you left Providence?”
I reach out, sliding my hand under the blanket, grabbing on to hers. I give her a gentle squeeze. “Of course, I did. As much as I hated leaving you, it wasn’t safe for me and Logan to stay. At the time, I thought it was what was best for everyone.”
She gives me a small reassuring smile. “I guess so.”
“I’m really sorry, Abby. I want you to know that.”
She nods again, squeezing my hand back. We lay in silence as I release her hand, letting the moon shine down on us.
I close my eyes, breathing in the air around me. Abby’s sheets smell like a combination of cigarettes and cotton.
A tear spills from my closed lids, already missing Logan. I thought I would need space away from the house, away from my husband. But the longer I spend away from him, the more distant I feel. It’s as if I’ve traveled somewhere foreign, unrecognizable. I turn over, hoping the tears will stop and dry at some point. It’s amazing how long your body can feel the weight of its sadness. Every bone and muscle in my body is exhausted, aching with the echo of pain I’ve felt the past few hours. Everything from Logan’s potential affair to the pictures to the emails. All of it weighs on me, crashing into me like a hurricane making landfall.
My back is facing Abby, but her arm slides over me, pulling me in. I allow her to hold me because she’s my best friend and the only lifeline I have left. I knew I would go back to Logan at some point, but I needed to allow myself this time to grieve. Grief from all the forces merging at once, ripping me apart from the inside out.
“It’ll all be okay, Lena,” Abby whispers. “I’m here for you. Always. We’ll get through this together.”
“Thank you,” I whisper back.
Sleep begins to carry me away. Before I completely fall, I hear Abby’s voice floating in the darkness. “Stay as long as you need.”
The vibration against my leg wakes me up the next morning. I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to open them.
My body is heavy, muscles still aching from the pain of the night before. At first, I thought I was wrapped up in the sheets of my bed, Logan lying next to me. Memories of last night come in waves, reminding me I’m not home and Logan isn’t the person lying beside me. Abby is.
My phone buzzes again and I force my eyes to open. The sun’s morning rays beat against my tired eyes. I squint, allowing them a few seconds to adjust to the sudden change.
The room is quiet. I glance over my shoulder, Abby still fast asleep behind me. I slide my hand into the pocket of my sweatpants, pulling out my phone.
Quietly, I unlock it and find three unread messages from Logan, including the one I ignored last night.
The first was a reply to my text when I’d made it to Abby’s.
Logan: Okay, I’m glad you made it safe.
Two hours later, he sent the second.
Logan: I’ve been fighting sleep knowing you aren’t here with me. I understand you don’t want to talk right now but please let me know when you’re coming home. I love you.
The third was sent two minutes ago.
Logan: I took the day off from work. I know you’re hurting. I am too. We can work on this, Lena. I know we can. We just have to trust each other. Do you remember what I told you before we walked into the chapel the day we got married?... I meant it then and I mean it now.
I close my eyes, forcing myself not to unravel. Sleep had provided a form of therapy. It had wrapped me up and slowly began mending me back in one piece, a single stitch at a time.
I lay in Abby’s bed, thinking back to what Logan had said to me when we left Providence.
We had stepped out of the car, the end of summer saturating the air. The air was cool, a slight breeze blowing across our skin. I was walking around the car, ready to follow Logan in when he stopped me. He reached for my hand, grabbing on to it tightly. I stared up at him, the short ends of his hair dancing across his forehead.
He lifted my hands and pressed his lips to my fingers. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
I laughed, thinking it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Of course, I do, Logan. I love you.”
“Okay,” he sighed. His smooth lips curled up, the corners creasing with a grin. “I just wanted to tell you one more thing before I make you my wife.”
My lips separated, breathing in the cool Missouri air. My heart hammered in my chest, reminding me the effect Logan had over me, giving me the reassurance that I was doing the right thing.
He sighed. “I wanted you to know that in the deepest part of my soul, I’ve loved you from the beginning. And no matter what other challenges we may face, they will never break us apart. It doesn’t matter where we are, east coast or west coast, wherever. None of it matters. From here on out, you are my life.”
I swallow, staring at Logan’s text, remembering the words he said to me outside the chapel that day. A bolt of electricity shoots straight to my chest, jump-starting its faint beat. I needed to speak to Logan whether I believed him or not. Either way, he was my husband and deep down, I knew there must have been an explanation. Logan deserved the chance to explain and it was about time I told him my secrets as well.
Spending the night at Abby’s gave me the chance to realize my secrets weren’t only mine anymore. They were affecting everyone around me, Logan the most. I’d allowed the secret of Julian’s emails to fester and become infected. It seeped its way into our marriage, preventing me from being able to rely on my husband when I needed him the most.
I still didn’t know how Logan would react to me telling him Julian had found us. Fear settled in the back of my mind, considering the possibility he’d want to leave again.
I glance over my shoulder again to find Abby still asleep. Her eyes are closed, her full lips slightly parted. Her silver hair is fanned out behind her, creating a glistening shade of pewter against her white pillowcase.
Deciding not to wake her, I slide out from under the sheets as quietly as possible. I can text her later when she’s awake.
Walking out to the living room, I grab my bag, realizing I never even used it. I didn’t need to.
By the time I make it out to my car, I can already feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders. Logan still didn’t know Julian had returned. He didn’t know I had been receiving emails.
Logan was right, I was a hypocrite. I bite back the guilt, telling myself it’s important to know that Logan wasn’t the only one wrong in this situation. I was too. Secrets have a way of dragging you farther into the darkness, making it nearly impossible to pull yourself out. It was about damn time I started finding the way out and the first step was to tell Logan Julian was back.
Twenty-One
Lena
Logan’s sitting outside on the back patio when I come home. He’s wearing gray sweatpants, hanging low at his waist. His plain white T-shirt is snug around his broad frame. A warmth swallows me, immediately reminding me this was where I belonged.
To say I wasn’t nervous would be a massive understatement. I didn’t know how Logan would take it when I told him that Julian had found us, that he had been sending me emails for months now. I replay his words in my mind, a mantra reminding me that Logan would understand. Or I at least hope he would.
I walk out onto the patio, my sandals landing against the gray concrete. Leaves have started to yellow and brown, peppering the trees with color. An early sign that fall was coming. My foot crushes the few leaves that have fallen on the
ground as I make my way toward Logan.
Hearing me, Logan twists in his seat, glancing over his shoulder. His entire body visibly sags with relief. I didn’t text him on my way home, wanting to allow myself a few moments to go over how this conversation would go. I still wasn’t entirely sure what happened between him and Natalie. I’d replayed each scenario and each picture, searching for clues as to how he had kept her a secret from me. I was aware there was a level of interaction between Logan and Natalie. It was part of his job. But I wasn’t aware to the extent it had risen to, at least the moments captured in the pictures. I wanted to believe there was a better part to Logan that I knew. A better piece of his soul that only burned for me, not another woman.
If I questioned Logan’s fidelity before, I wasn’t now. His eyes are filled with an immense amount of pain I haven’t seen since he was in the hospital last year, lying in the bed bruised and broken. Only this time, Logan’s wounds were internal.
“Hey,” I say, sitting down in the chair beside him. We both face the shed, examining the difference it’s made to our back yard. The wood panels are painted a bright yellow. I wanted to paint the shed a color that felt alive. A color that gave me the illusion I was content with my new life in Seattle. I’d hoped it would make me feel whole and complete. It’s funny the extent to which people will go to make their lives feel more at peace than they actually are.
“Hey,” he says, looking down into his lap. He inhales a deep breath, his shoulders rolling with the motion.
“Logan, I—” I stop myself, emotions overtaking me. I’d rehearsed this conversation time and time again in the car but being in front of Logan now, I’m left speechless. I’m more nervous than I was in the car.
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