~Logan~
It was ironic how a single phone call can change your life. Some for the better, others for the worse. Clare, Maddie and I had stepped off that plane several weeks ago and I was elated. I had a plan. The ring was in my pocket, like a beacon and symbol for the rest of my life, and then my damn phone rang, and everything changed.
It took one moment for me to walk into that exam room that held Clare and Maddie and have my entire world changed. It took a single phone call for it to come crashing down like a pile of rubble.
“I bet you know how that feels, huh?” I asked the four foot granite slab my body was slumped against. It didn’t answer back. I took another swig from the half emptied body of amber colored whiskey I’d been working on since arriving here some time ago, feeling the liquid burn all the way down to my belly. I didn’t know what brought me to that specific spot, but after leaving the hospital, I didn’t know where else to go.
“I’m in love with your wife. Just thought you should know,” my words slurred and eyes were blurry as I tried focusing on the words in front of me.
Ethan Oliver Murray. Loving Husband, Father, Son. His grave laid before me, a living testament to the love he and Clare shared. The love she lost and grieved every f**king day.
I pulled out the ring I had been carrying with me for weeks and held it to the light, watching it sparkle and flash, imagining how it would look on Clare’s finger. Knowing now, I would never know.
Logan, is there anyone we can call?
No, there’s no one.
Bringing the bottle to my lips again, I let out a harsh laugh, hating the irony of it all. How could fate hate us so much? What was the point of it all if it was supposed to end like this? Why show me how to love if I had to give it up?
“How did you do it, Ethan? How did you let her go?” I asked, hating the thought.
I don’t know what I expected to hear in return. All I got was silence. Nothing but f**king silence.
I hadn’t come here for answers. I knew what I had to do. It would kill me, but I couldn’t put her through this. She deserved better.
She may hate me, but at least she’d never have to lose me like this, I thought, giving one final glance at Ethan’s final resting place.
~Clare~
It was really late when the knock on the door startled me awake. I rushed from the couch, throwing the blanket off my lap to open the door.
“Logan!” I cried, so happy to see his face.
He was dripping wet, rain pouring down his lean body, drenching his hair and clothes. I leaped into his arms, not caring about his water soaked state, needing to feel him, solid and safe in my arms.
“I’ve been so worried. I tried calling half a dozen times. Where have you been?” I rattled off a million questions, holding him tight.
The cookout had been over for hours and he had been a complete no show. Our first couple hosted event and I had to make excuses for him all night. When the evening wore on and he still wasn’t answering his phone, I became worried, and then worried turned into frantic. I called hospitals, and police departments and then finally fell asleep on the couch in tears, convinced he had left me for good.
His arms wrapped around me tightly, for one brief second, before pushing me away completely.
“I’m sorry, I had some things I needed to think about,” he answered coldly.
“Um, okay,” I stammered, “Why don’t we get you inside? Here, let me take your jacket.”
He handed over his leather jacket, completely drenched with rain water. I laid it out to dry before sitting next to him on the couch. His eyes were vacant, hard, and completely unrecognizable.
“Have you been drinking?” I asked, the putrid smell of whiskey coming off of him in waves.
“Listen,” he said, ignoring my question completely. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since New York.”
The feeling I had been having, that terror in the pit of my stomach flared to life, warning me that my life was forever about to change. And not for the better.
“I miss the city. I don’t think I’m cut out to live here,” he confessed stoically.
“Logan, what are you saying? Do you want us to move to New York?” I asked, hopeful.
I didn’t want to move, but I will. If it meant he wouldn’t leave us, I would go anywhere.
“There are other things, too. I miss my job, my life there.”
“I thought we were your life,” I whispered.
He continued, spilling out the words, like he was unable to get them out of his body quickly enough. They sounded practiced and rehearsed, like he had written a speech before coming here. A “how to break up with Clare” speech and he couldn’t wait to get it all out.
“I thought I was ready for this. Ready to be with one person for the rest of my life, and ready to be a father. But I don’t think I am. I’m sorry. I know that sounds selfish, but it’s where I’m at,” he said, like he wasn’t ready to place his order yet, or he couldn’t decide between two shades of paint. No big deal.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked softly, seeing something flash in his eyes that he was desperately trying to keep blank for my benefit. He was hiding something.
“I just thought it’d be better this way. At least I figured it out before it was too late, right?” he shrugged.
Unable to sit next to him anymore, I jumped up from the couch, hurt and angry and so damn confused.
“Too late? There’s a little girl upstairs who adores you. What am I going to tell her, Logan?”
He turned from me, shielding his face from my view so I couldn’t see his expression.
“You goddamn lying bastard,” I seethed.
“I’m sorry, Clare.”
“Don’t apologize to me, Logan! Tell me what’s really going on here. This isn’t about some stupid job. What happened to make you run like this? Just tell me and we can work through it.”
He stood, running his hands through his hair for a few seconds as if trying to decide what to do. He finally looked up at me. I saw the hurt and pain in his eyes and I felt myself relax, knowing if he was opening up, we could get through this. But he turned his emotions back off and resumed the icy cold demeanor he had arrived with.
“There’s no other reason. Clare. I’m just not ready for this.”
“Please don’t do this Logan, please...you can’t leave,” I begged, the panic taking over every molecule in my body.
“I’m sorry, Clare. You have no idea how much I wish things were different,” he said, and it was the first thing he said all night that I actually believed. Everything else was a lie. One big goddamn lie he’s concocted. Like a big get out jail free card.