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Emma.
Heavens, she had been a hot fuck.
The lack of sleep had been totally worth it but not the smartest move, when Logan considered just how diplomatic and patient he would need to be with his father today.
The day was always going to be difficult, with Andrew and Jonathan seeing each other for the first time in over twenty-six years.
“Like hell you’re—” Andrew began, but Logan shot Daniel a look, and as all the words started to fly, they both pulled their fathers apart.
Thankfully, at the same time, the funeral director stepped down and began greeting everyone. “Mr. Dufort,” he said, taking in the group, then frowning. “Miss and Mr. Dufort’s, I should say. Are we ready to commence?”
Yeah, there were a lot of them today.
Everyone began making their way to a seat as other guests arrived.
“Dad, can I sit with you?” Amelia asked, ever the peacemaker, looping her arm through his.
“Come on, darling,” Andrew replied, and Logan watched their father turn to mush.
Amelia winked at Logan and let herself be led to the front row.
Jacob rolled his eyes. “And that’s how women learn to manipulate us guys.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Shush you,” Samantha said, patting his arm. “Go sit with your cousins and get to know them.”
“It’s a funeral, not a bar, Mom,” Blake replied in a hush. “They have their wives with them.”
There would be time for talking afterward, but his aunty was emotional seeing her brother again and didn’t want to miss this chance for their family to reconnect. Logan felt the same.
“Go,” Samantha said, indicating they should do as she said.
Both Blake and Jacob glanced at Logan, looking for support. As the oldest, he’d always had a sort of seniority over all the cousins.
That had included Daniel before their fathers had gone their separate ways. Fletcher had been a toddler, and Hunter was only a baby.
“Christ, come on.” Blake nudged Jacob. They made their way across the aisle and sat next to Addison, shaking hands with Hunter and Fletcher, who leaned across.
Olivia gave them a smile and rubbed her swollen tummy.
Logan felt a pang in his chest and turned away.
To think he could have been sitting here right now with Zoe and what he had thought was his child...It would be nearly four years old now. Whether it was a boy or girl, he didn’t know. It was none of his business.
Occasionally, he wondered if he would rather have never found out.
But he had.
And it had nearly destroyed him completely.
“We’re all here today to celebrate the life of Delores Dufort,” the funeral director started, and the room hushed.
––––––––
LOGAN TOSSED BACK THElast of the golden Macallan and dropped his glass on the table beside him.
God, he was fucking tired.
