We work in silence for a while. She unpacks and steams, and I tag and organize, and the rhythm of it calms me the way it always has.
At noon, she sends me out for sandwiches. I walk to the deli and order our usual. Then I check my phone. Two texts from Logan. One from this morning saying good morning with a sun emoji. One from thirty minutes ago asking if I want to do something today.
I don't reply to either. I take the sandwiches back to the shop and eat with my mother in the back room, and pretend my heart isn't sitting at the bottom of my stomach.
I leave the boutique at two and drive back to the city. The traffic on the expressway is light, and I make it home in under an hour. I hang up my coat and kick off my shoes, and I'm about to run a bath when the buzzer rings.
“Hello?”
“It's me.” Logan's voice comes through the intercom.
My heart starts hammering. “Come up.”
I buzz him in and stand in my hallway waiting. Thirty seconds later, there's a knock on my door. I open it.
He's in jeans and his leather jacket. His hair is messy from the wind, and his blue eyes go straight to mine.
“You're not answering my texts,” he says.
“I've been busy.”
“You've been avoiding me.” He steps inside and closes the door behind him. “Talk to me, Jasmine.”
“There's nothing to talk about.”
“You've given me five-word answers for twenty-four hours. You haven't called. So don't tell me there's nothing to talk about.”
My throat tightens. I walk to the kitchen and lean against the counter because I need something solid behind me. He follows and stands on the other side of the island.
I take a deep breath. “I'm scared, Logan.”
“Of what?”
“Of this. Of us. Of what happens. You canceled on us because your father called. You dropped everything, including our plans.”
“Dom had an announcement, and he wanted the whole family there.”
“I know that now. But when I got your text yesterday, all I saw was you canceling on me because George told you to. And I've been here before.”
He's quiet. His jaw works, but he doesn't interrupt.
“I sat in my kitchen last night with a table set for two, and when your text came in, all I could think was here we go again.”
“It's not the same, Jasmine.”
“I know it's not. My brain knows it's not. But my body hasn't caught up yet. Ten years is a long time to carry a wound, and one week of being happy doesn't erase it.”
He comes around the island and stands in front of me. He doesn't touch me. He just stands there, close, his eyes on mine.
“Dom proposed to Sarah,” he says. “That's what the announcement was. He asked her to marry him, and she said yes, and he wanted to tell the whole family together.”
I stare at him. “Dom proposed?”
“Last weekend. They want to get married in the spring. Mom nearly had a heart attack. She told him they were too young and suggested a longer engagement, and Dom told her no. He knows what he wants.”
“Good for Dom.”
“My mother spent the rest of the evening being passive-aggressive about it and Dom didn't flinch. I should have told you why. I should have called you instead of texting.
