< More Than A Favor
Chapter 1
“Be honest. Did you ever sleep with Elaine?”
Okeaner
The deep, low voice cut through the crack in the door, freezing me in my tracks. My hand hovered over the doorknob.
Through the narrow gap, I could see Logan Mercer lounging on the couch, his jaw tight, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“She’s tried,” he said flatly. “But I wasn’t interested.”
“Come on, Logan,” his best friend, Caleb Turner, replied with a laugh that carried a hint of disbelief. “Don’t sell her short. Everyone knows Elaine’s gorgeous. She’s got half the guys in our circle chasing after her.”
Logan tipped his head back slightly, his brows pulling together. “You don’t get it. We’ve known each other too long. It’s like…” He hesitated, searching for the words. “It’s like knowing what’s behind every door before you open it. There’s no mystery left.”
My chest tightened as I listened from the hallway.
I first met Logan when I was fourteen. Back then, everyone told me he was the person I’d marry. I was sent to live at the Mercer estate, and for ten years, we’d been tied together–sharing a house, a life, a future, or sol thought.
Caleb chuckled, breaking my thoughts. “So you’re saying you see too much of her? What, you know how many times she sneezes in a day? How often she checks the mirror?” His teasing tone shifted into something more reflective. “You know, Logan, relationships don’t work like that anymore. People want excitement. They crave the chase. It’s only fun when you can’t have what you want.”
Logan didn’t respond. He just sat there, smoke curling up from the cigarette he’d lit.
“So,” Caleb pressed, leaning forward, “are you still going to marry her?”
My breath caught.
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Logan‘ parents had pushed for us to get married, but he’d never given me a clear answer. I hadn’t dared to ask. Now, Caleb was doing it for me.
Logan exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his silence stretching into the
room.
“Not answering, huh?” Caleb smirked. “Let me guess. You don’t want to marry her.”
“That’s not it,” Logan replied, his tone clipped.
“Then what? You’re willing to marry her, but you’re not exactly thrilled about it?” Caleb’s grin widened, as if he’d struck a nerve. He knew Logan too well.
Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Ever heard this saying?” he asked.
Caleb raised an eyebrow. “What saying?”
“Some things hold no real value, but you still can’t seem to let them go.”
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My grip tightened on the marriage license application I was holding, the paper crumpling slightly beneath my fingers.
“So,” Caleb said, his voice quieter now, “what’s it going to be? Are you marrying her or not?”
Logan glanced up, his lips curving into a faint, humorless smile. “Why do you care so much? Are you interested in her? If you want, I’ll give her to you.”
It wasn’t just the words, but the way he said them–detached, careless, as though I were an object he was ready to discard.
I felt something inside me crack.
Logan might not have cared, but I had given him ten years of my life. Ten years during which he’d become my whole world. And now, he was treating me like nothing.
Caleb scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not that desperate.” He stood up,
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grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. “But seriously, Logan, if you don’t want her, let her go. She deserves better.”
Logan stubbed out his cigarette, the motion sharp and deliberate. “Get out, Caleb. You’re just here to stir up trouble.”
Caleb shrugged. “I’m not the one stirring up trouble. That’s all on you.”
He turned toward the door.
When he opened it, he froze.
I was standing there, still clutching the marriage license application. My legs felt stiff, my fingertips numb.
“Elaine,” Caleb said, his voice unusually cautious. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, then forced a small smile. “Were you looking for Logan? He’s inside.”
I couldn’t speak. My throat felt dry, and my heart was pounding in my ears.
Caleb’s gaze flicked to the paper in my hands. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “You should think about what you really want.”
His shoulder brushed mine as he walked past, leaving me standing there, motionless.
The application form felt unbearably heavy in my hands, the weight of it pressing down on me like a stone.
After what felt like an eternity, I swallowed hard, forced myself to breathe, and pushed the door open.
