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Maybe he’s seeing someone in the city.
I’m too scared to ask.
I remind myself that we’re neighbors, and it shouldn’t bother me.
But it does.
It bothers me so much.
“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.” He spins me around and places his hand on the small of my back.
I shiver.
Lost in my own thoughts, I take a step back. Everything is muggy. Lines are being crossed. I need to cut ties now before the pull is too strong.
It’s the only way to save myself.
We are just neighbors.
My voice cracks when I say, “It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll be safe walking the thirty seconds to my car.” When he tries to protest, I hold up a hand and sigh. “Logan, please.”
Please see that I can’t do this right now.
I can’t have him touching me.
Because hecantouch me.
It’s not a touch I hide from, and it scares me half to death.
Concern forms a dent between his brows, but with a resigned breath, he steps back.
One step and it feels like miles.
I have no idea what I’m doing.
“I’ll see you before you go?” I ask.
“I’ll be home in an hour.”
Home.
My heart constricts in my chest.
With a watery smile, I turn and walk to my car.
Alone.
Twenty-Five
“Pajamas, change of clothes, more clothes, cuddly toys,” I whisper myself through the checklist and hope I’m not forgetting anything.
“Goal!” Hannah screams from outside.
I walk to the porch and see Logan has returned from work. He has Isabel on his shoulders as he plays soccer with Hannah.
My earlier inner dramatics have subsided considerably, but my poor heart—it doesn’t stand a chance.
Seeing me, he puts Isabel down and whispers something to Hannah. They both come running into the house.
