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The thought hit me like a punch to the gut.
I stayed silent as we waited outside the emergency room. Logan didn’t look at me once. He seemed completely absorbed in Selene’s condition, as if I, his fiancée, didn’t exist.
The bitter feeling in my chest grew stronger, spreading like poison through my veins. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure, but the words slipped out before I could stop them.
“Is it… your child?” I asked, my voice low but direct.
Logan finally turned to face me, his expression sharp with surprise. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes–shock, maybe even guilt–but it disappeared as quickly as it came. His face hardened, and his voice was steady when he answered.
“What are you talking about? Of course not. It’s Liam’s.”
Relief washed over me, but it didn’t erase the tension knotting in my chest.
Liam Harlow. Selene’s late husband and Logan‘ closest friend. He’d died in a car accident just a month ago. The crash had been brutal, the car completely totaled. Liam hadn’t made it.
Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m taking care of Selene
because Liam asked me to. Before he died.”
His words stirred a memory. I thought back to the night Logan came home after handling Liam’s funeral arrangements–his disheveled hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble on his jaw. He had looked like a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Their bond had been deep, unshakable. Liam wasn’t just a friend to Logan; he was family. And now that he was gone, of course Logan would feel responsible for Liam’s widow.
The guilt hit me like a cold slap. How could I have doubted him?
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I reached out, my fingers brushing against Logan‘ arm. “I’m sorry,” I said softly, “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
Logan didn’t say anything at first. Then, after a moment, he looked down at me, his gaze softening. “You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, Elaine.”
I nodded, the words catching in my throat.
I decided to explain what had happened earlier. “About tonight… Kian made it all up. I didn’t touch him. He just wanted to cause trouble.”
Logan‘ lips twitched, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You always manage to find yourself in the strangest situations.”
It wasn’t my fault,” I protested.
He reached out and pinched my cheek lightly, the way he used to when we were younger. “No more drinking,” he said, his tone teasing but firm.
I opened my mouth to argue–after all, I’d only had one beer–but before I could, the door to the emergency room swung open.
A doctor stepped out, his expression brisk but professional. His eyes immediately landed on Logan.
“Family member of the pregnant patient?” the doctor asked.
Logan tensed, his hand dropping from my face. “Yes,” he said, taking a small step forward.
The doctor handed him a clipboard and a pen. “We need you to sign this consent form. Your wife is showing signs of a miscarriage. We’re doing everything we can to prevent it, but there’s still a risk the pregnancy might not continue. Your signature is required to proceed.”
Logan nodded and signed his name in the designated space.
The words “family member” and “spouse” stared back at me from the top
of the form.
I felt a lump rise in my throat as I watched him hand the clipboard back to the doctor without hesitation.
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He had signed as someone else’s family before becoming mine.
Selene came out of the emergency room safely. The baby had been saved.
When she was wheeled back to her hospital room, her face was pale, her eyes swollen and red from crying. With her delicate features and frail appearance, she looked heartbreakingly pitiful–like someone who had suffered far too much.
“Don’t worry,” Logan said gently, standing at her bedside. “The baby is fine. Everything’s okay now.”
“Logan, I was so scared,” Selene whimpered, her voice trembling as fresh
tears rolled down her cheeks.
Logan handed her a tissue, and she took it, her fingers brushing against his hand. Then, without hesitation, she held onto him, resting her tear–streaked face on the back of his hand.
I stood there for a moment, watching the scene unfold. Sure, she looked pitiful. But that didn’t mean she could treat someone else’s fiancé like her
husband.
I stepped forward, keeping my tone calm. “Mrs. Harlow, the doctor mentioned that intense emotions aren’t good for the baby. You’ve
managed to save your child; it would be a shame if anything happened now because you’re upset.”
As I spoke, I gently pulled her hand away from Logan‘ without making a
fuss.
Still, I couldn’t stop the uncomfortable feeling bubbling inside me. Seeing Selene’s tears on Logan‘ hand left me with an irrational sense of disgust, as if something that belonged to me had been sullied.
I’d always been a bit of a clean freak–not just in my daily life but in my relationships, too.
Selene’s expression shifted when I addressed her as ‘Mrs. Harlow‘. Her face stiffened for a brief moment, but she quickly composed herself, smoothing her features into a practiced look of composure.
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“Oh, Logan, I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice soft and apologetic. She reached for a tissue, clearly intending to wipe his hand clean, but I stopped her.
“Mrs. Harlow,” I said firmly, “you shouldn’t move around too much right now,”
Her hand froze mid–motion, and she looked up at Logan, her tearful eyes filled with a kind of admiration that made my stomach churn.
As we left the ward, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I turned to Logan and asked, “Does Selene like you?”
Logan‘ steps faltered, but his voice was steady as he replied, “No.”
“What about you?” I pressed. “Do you like her?”
If I was going to ask, I wanted a real answer. No half–truths. No evasions.
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