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It's absolutely perfect.
I whirl around to face him, my mouth hanging open in shock. “What is this?”
He crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame with a satisfied smile. “It's yours.”
I blink at him, speechless. “Mine?” My brain is struggling to catch up. “Logan, this must have cost a fortune.”
His brows pull together like I’m speaking a language he doesn’t understand. “And? You need studio space.”
Just like that.
“Why? Why did you do this?”
He simply smiles and takes my face in his hands. “Because you shot Emily’s wedding last week,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with pride and a hint of mischief. I gawk at him, the pieces not quite coming together in my head.
I was proud of that shoot. It turned out incredible, but when you’re taking pictures of a runway model, it doesn’t take much work.
“Your photos are about to be featured in just about every magazine in the country,” he adds.
The room starts to sway, but he keeps me steady.
“How do you know that?”
“Emily called me this morning,” he confesses. “She thought I might like to be the one to tell you.”
I blink at him, trying to process what he’s saying, what he’s done. It feels like I’m standing at the edge of a dream, on the precipice of something wonderful and life changing.
“Everyone is about to see just how amazing you are,” he whispers, his voice laced with admiration and a deep, unwavering affection. “And I'm so fucking proud of you. You're about to live the dream, baby. Live life in color. Though, you might want to give Molly your notice because you’re going global.”
I glance around, my mouth still on the floor. The girls are looking up at me with so much pride, my heart is about to burst out of my chest.
“You did all of this in one day?”
“No.” He takes Isabel in his arms when she practically climbs up his leg. All of this, me, the girls, it’s second nature to him. “We’ve been working on it since you told me you were the photographer for Emily’s wedding.”
“You knew?” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat, even as tears fall.
“Knew what?”
“You knew it was going to be a success.”
He eyes me, offended. “I always knew.”
“I...I don't know what to say.”.
“Say yes,” he whispers, a plea hidden in his voice.
Suddenly, a chorus of tiny voices fills the room as the girls join in. “Say it. Say it. Say it.” Their enthusiasm is infectious, and I can’t help but feel the corners of my mouth tug upwards.
But it’s not what I say. I don’t say yes. Not yet.
Heart ready to explode, I turn to him, and I know.
I’ve always known, I just didn’t say it before because I’ve been too busy basking inhislove. And Logan’s love is all consuming. It holds you together when you think you might break. It heals when the scars of the past become a little raw.
My voice sounds strong despite the tremble in my hands when I say, “I love you.”
I can’t pinpoint since when or how long ago, but I know I’ve fallen too far to ever find a way out. I know I’ll keep falling because that’s the thing with loving someone like I love this man—a love like this is like falling without ever hitting the ground.
