“Logan? Are you okay?” I squeeze down on the doorknob, the cold seeping through my palm. Something’s wrong.

  He stares at me as though he’s just realized where he’s standing. “I…I didn’t know where else to go. I had to get out of there.” Logan’s voice cracks and his eyes shine with unshed tears.

  I carefully hold my hand out, palm up. He settles his hand into my grip and I gently tug him inside my apartment. It’s like he’s coming back home.

  I move slowly and carefully, my heart beating hard and fast against my ribs. I don’t know what’s wrong, only that there is something wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.

  I carefully remove his coat from his shoulders and hang it up. I crouch down to help him out of his boots. I hold onto his hand and bring him to the kitchen, and I make sure he’s seated at the stool he always preferred when he was here last week.

  It’s only been a few days, and I’ve missed him so much. How is that possible?

  “I only knew that I wanted to see you, no matter what,” he says, voice rough and raspy.

  “What happened?” I ask in a whisper.

  “My mom…she passed away the other night.” Logan runs a hand over his mouth, his gaze dropping from mine. Through our clasped hands, I can feel that he’s trembling through my grip.

  My heart twists and aches for him, even while I scramble to figure out what to do, how to make any of this better.

  How can I do that when I don’t know how to fix this? This can’t be fixed, Max.

  “I’m so sorry, Logan. I’m so sorry.”

  Logan nods, and sniffs hard. “I didn’t want to tell you. She’d been sick for a long time, a long time. And last night, she finally looked like she wasn’t hurting anymore. And I-” his voice cracks again and he ducks his head into his arms, a broken sob spilling from him. He cries so hard and violently that I marvel that his body is still together instead of falling apart, cracking wide open to deal with his grief.

  I freeze for a few seconds, and then plaster myself to his back, aching with him, trying to keep him together.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I repeat over and over, rocking him gently from side to side. I let him go only to secure a tissue box and hand him a wad of them so he can clean his face and nose. My stomach twists into knots. “And yet you came to my Christmas dinner even though… Fucking shit, Logan, why? Why would you do that?”

  My heart explodes to three times its size, my rib cage too small to contain everything that I’m feeling, everything that I want to tell Logan.

  I gently wipe the tears from his face. My thumb drags over the swell of his bottom lip. I gasp when he kisses me there, soft and quick.

  I’ll think about this moment in the future, I’m sure, the one moment that changed everything for me, and it’ll be this one.

  I love Logan Porter, my husband, and he’s sitting here in front of me, utterly heartbroken.

  “Because I said I would. Because she would have wanted me to keep my promises. Because she knew that there was someone in my life even if I didn’t explain it all to her. That’s why I asked you to marry me, Max. I was selfish. I wanted to let my mom know that I was going to be okay without her, that I had someone who loved me, who I loved back.”

  My mouth’s dry, and my throat tightens, flaring hot with pain.

  “I’m sorry I asked you like that. I’m sorry I wasn’t being totally honest with you.”

  “Logan, you came to the dinner last night. There’s nothing you can do now that’ll make me think you’re a shitty person. There’s nothing you can do about it. Not one thing.”

  “I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry about everything.”

  I pull in a deep breath, let it out slowly. “The whole time you were here, living with me. Did your feelings for me start to grow?”

  “God, Max, how could you not know? I’m crazy about you. So crazy that I asked you to marry me, even if I had an end goal in mind.”

  “Well, so did I, so I think we should stop beating each other up for that, huh?” I shake my head, run my thumbs over his sharp cheekbones. “What can I do for you now? What do you need? Food? Sleep? Tell me and I’ll make it happen. Let me take care of you now.”

  “I want to sleep, please.”

  “Okay. My room’s right over there.”

  “No,” he says with a shake of his head. “I want to sleep with you next to me. Please?”

  “Okay.” I mean, it’s not like I’m going to say no. If my sleeping next to him brings him some comfort then it’s the least I can do. It’s my turn to take care of him now.

  We head to my bedroom together. I let Logan climb under the sheets first. I turn on the TV hanging on my wall to play Jurassic World on Netflix for some background noise.

  I’m hoping it’s going to distract him and forget his pain for a little while.

  “Do you want to tell me about her, or do you want to keep quiet? I’ve got a box of tissues on my nightstand right by your side there, and enough blankets so that you’ll be warm in two seconds. Do you need anything else?”

  Logan shakes his head. “Just you.”

  If this wasn’t spectacularly terrible timing, I’d kiss Logan breathless. Right now, I’m trying to figure out ways to ease his pain.

  “Okay,” I mumble, snuggling up close to his side. “Hey, it feels just like when we were stuck in the storm, freezing our asses off together, huh?”

  Logan grunts then blows his nose rather loudly.

  I pet along his stomach, the thermal a little rough against the skin of my palm. We both watch the movie unfold and meet the new dinosaurs that weren’t around in the original franchise.

  “I’m sorry if you had plans for the rest of your day.”

  I lean up to look at him. “My only plans now involve you and playing a koala to your tree for the rest of the evening. You let me know when you get hungry, okay?”

  Logan sighs. “You know what I said before, about wanting to let my mom know that I was getting married, that I found someone?”

  “Yeah…”

  Logan licks his swollen lips, ignores the tears that leak out of the corners of his eyes. He pulls in a shaky breath, sniffs. “It started one way, Max. But you know, right? That I love you?”

  I lean back to look down at him. He gently places some hair behind my ear, careful with me even while he’s so heartbroken I don’t know how he can bear it.

  “I know, Logan. Who else could stand my ass for a whole week straight of complaining than a man who’d fallen in love with me?” I joke, not knowing that at all.

  I’m rewarded with a small smile from him, and I wipe more of his tears away. “Thank you for being there last night, for being by my side. It made everything so much better, you have no idea.”

  “Good. I’m glad. If you let me, Max, I’ll be by your side as long as you want me.”

  “Does it work the same for you? Wanting me by your side, too?”

  Logan laughs, surprised and wet. “Yeah, it does. I’m sorry I’m not at a hundred percent right now.”

  I wave off the concern. “You saw me nearly busting out of my skin. This is nothing. Come on, try to close your eyes, try to sleep.”

  “She’ll still be gone whether I fall asleep or not.”

  “I know, but give your heart a break, just for a little while.”

  Logan sniffs again. “Would you come to the funeral with me? It’s scheduled for next Monday.”

  “Yeah, of course, I will. You’re basically stuck with me until I say otherwise.”

  Logan smiles again, even though he’s still crying. “I wish I could stop. I wish I didn’t have to think about how at ease she looked when she died. I think she was waiting for me before she finally let go.”

  My own eyes start to well with tears, and my throat is so thick and painful that I don’t know if I can speak. I nod instead, wanting him to continue, to let it all out.

  “Fuck, Max, she would have loved you.”

  “Yeah?” I whisper wetly, tilting my head. “Really?”

  Logan nods. “Fuck, yeah. She’d have loved everything about you, from head to toe.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Even if we had gotten married without telling anyone?”

  “My mom wouldn’t care about that. She eloped with my dad when her parents told her not to marry him.”

  “A rebel, huh? She must have been one hell of a cool lady.”

  “I thought so.” Logan’s face crumples as another wave of grief pulls him under. All I can do is hold him as tight as I can, and replace the sodden tissues for fresh ones.

  After a while, he’s able to fall asleep.

  I text my cousins that I’m going to be AWOL for a few days while I take care of my…husband.

  Shit, the word doesn’t sound so scary now, not when Logan’s in my bed.

  I don’t know how long we doze for, but when I wake up it’s to find myself alone in bed, and the heavenly smell of leftovers being microwaved.

  I head into the kitchen, finger combing my hair.

  Logan’s in my kitchen like he’s always been there, like he never left.

  “It’s nice to have everything working for once,” he says. His face is still red around his cheeks and eyes like he’s been rubbing at the tender skin. “I was about to wake you up to eat, but you beat me to it.”

  “I wanted to make you food.” I frown, take my seat at the island.

  “It’s microwaved leftovers, Max.”

  “Still, I should be the one doing it. Me. You’re tired and sad and I wanted to take care of you. It’s my turn to take care of you. Are you going to let me or what?”

  “I’ve never been taken care of before.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “This is one of those cases, though, we talked about before. I’m going to give and you’re going to take.”

  Logan stills He looks up at me, runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to do that.”

  “I’ll teach you. I learned from the master himself, after all.” I get a laugh out of that and I’m practically walking on air. “First, you have to let me do all the cooking and cleaning up. We both know you like to do the dishes but that’s not going to happen.”

  “And after that?”

  I shake my head, hands on my hips as I round the kitchen island. I tug Logan until he’s seated where I want him. “I don’t know. I’m just winging it and doing what feels right. You’ll let me know, though, right, if you don’t want something from me?”

  Logan nods, wipes his eyes from the tears that have already fallen.

  “So let me take care of you now.”

  “Why?”

  I tilt my head, finally say the words that need to be said. “Because I love you. Are you going to let me do my job, or what?”

  “Only if I get a kiss first. Please?”

  I kiss him softly at first until Logan’s the one that adds more heat to it, more emotion. I gasp against his mouth and let him take over.

  It’s my turn to give.

  By the end of the night though, I’m still pretty sure that Logan’s given me a lot more than I’ve given him.

  I’m going to have to fix that.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The funeral was awful, as funerals generally are, or so I’ve been told. All I do is hang around the seating area and smile at Logan whenever he looks over at me.

  I already paid my respects to his dad, who looks entirely shaken by grief that I doubt he could see me through the tears streaming down his face. It’s clear that he loved his wife.

  By the end of the burial, Logan’s exhausted.

  I offer to drive him home, but he wants to come over, so that’s where I go.

  My apartment’s been quiet these past few days after Christmas. I’ve caught up on work. I also didn’t completely disappear into my editing cave since Logan would be in touch throughout the day, making sure I had eaten or taken a walk outside to clear my head.

  Mom and Dad are still giving me the silent treatment, but it doesn’t hurt so much anymore. Izzy’s always excited to talk about her impending mortgage countdown, but I don’t have the energy to be so excited when Logan’s hurting as much as he is.

  Maybe in another week or so, I’ll take her shopping for furniture.

  Logan drops his duffel bag as soon as he steps inside my apartment. When I get to the kitchen, I’m hoisted up onto the kitchen counter and pressed back against the cupboards in a bruising kiss that steals my breath away.

  “Please, I need you. Please, Max.”

  We barely make it to my bedroom without tearing each other’s clothes off. At the end of the fiery storm, we’re both panting, trying to catch our breath. My body’s hot and satisfyingly sore. Logan leans downs to kiss me deeply, murmuring my name against my lips.

  “I’m sorry if I was rough.”

  I snort.

  Logan stares at me. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  I smile at him, teeth on display. “I don’t know. What do you think it means?”

  “I think it means we need to have a discussion.”

  I snort. “Maybe you’re right.” I run a finger across his collarbones. “How are you really?”

  “It was hard, Max. Really hard.”

  I run my fingers over his eyebrow, down to his cheekbone. He nuzzles against my touch like a cat. My heart melts, especially when he dips down to kiss me slow and sweet.

  “I’m sorry that it was hard for you today.”

  “She would have loved you, you know?”

  This isn’t new, but it helps him to talk about it and the least I could do is listen. He gives and I take; he takes and I give. That’s the way it works.

  “Obviously, I’m amazing,” I laugh, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Now, go to sleep. We have to start planning for New Year’s Eve. There’s a rooftop party I want to try to get into, and the tickets go on sale at five in the morning.”

  Logan tickles me until I squeal and then kisses me until I’m panting against his mouth.

  Even though it was a pretty terrible day, it still ended well, with the both of us together.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late,” I say, sitting down across from my sister at her favorite coffee shop. The air smells like roasted espresso beans and sugar cookies. If heaven were a place on Earth, this would be it.

  Izzy shrugs. “Not a big deal. I just got here anyway.” She glances away, more interested in what’s hidden behind the glass case near the cash register.

  We get up one at a time to get our orders of high-caloric coffee and a dessert because it’s still the holidays and I want to indulge.

  “So what’s the matter with you? Why didn’t you want to come over?”

  Izzy snorts. “I thought you were going to be with your boyfriend, sucking face.”

  I nod slowly. “We do suck face a lot. I’m not even going to be sorry about it.”

  Izzy’s mouth twists in a disgusted sneer. “I come bearing the family olive branch. Mom and Dad want you to come over for brunch over the weekend. You can bring Logan, too, if you want.”

  I nod. “I’ll see if he’s up to it.”

  Izzy frowns. “I thought it was pretty brave what you did, what you said to Mom. That’s why I need to get out, Max. You get it?”

  “Yeah, kid. I get it. Are you going to be okay paying for everything on your own?”

  “I find it’s pretty good motivation to stay on track because I don’t have the option of going back home.”

  “Mom and Dad would love to have you back, you know that. Otherwise, they’ll have to face the fact that they’re empty nesters.”

  Izzy nods and crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s not the real reason why I asked you here, actually.”

  “Turns out I have something to tell you, too. But you go first.”

  Izzy winces. “Fine, fine. I, uh, wanted to ask you if you wanted to go couch shopping with me. Because that’s a thing I need now, a whole ass couch.”

  “Actually, no, you don’t. Why don’t I sub-let you my place? I won’t charge you more rent than what I pay at cost, so it’ll keep your expenses down. And you can have my place as yours if you wanted.”

  To my despair, tears start spilling over onto Izzy’s cheeks.

  “What? What? This is good news! Why are you crying?”

  “Because! I thought you were going to be pissed at me because of what happened at Christmas!”

  “Why would I be pissed at you? None of this is your fault.”

  “Max, I’m part of the problem, aren’t I? I’ve been living at home forever, and I take all the handouts I can get.”

  “That just means you aren’t as pathologically stubborn as I am, that’s all. It’s fine to ask for help, Izzy.”

  “Oh my God, who are you? My sister would never say those words to me. Not once, not ever.”

  I snort. “I don’t know. Logan’s said something like it to me a few times, and I’ve started to believe him. It’s nice knowing he’s in my corner, you know?”

  “No, I don’t know. I swear, all the guys in Montreal are the shits.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll meet the guy of your dreams sometime this year. I have a feeling.”

  “Yeah, right. I work at a bar, Max. What kind of future can I give to a relationship, huh?”

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  “Says the person who’s richer than our entire generation.”

  I lick my lips. “Are you feeling better now?”

  “You mean it, Max?” Her eyes are practically glowing with hope. “I can rent your place? Really? Where the hell are you going to live?”

  “I want to find a place closer to Vick. There’s a new development that’s already built that I’ve been curious to check out. We’ll see if they have any more condos left to buy.”

  A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought I’d be married, and that I would be looking for another home with a mind to a future I can share with someone, let alone Logan.