Natasha’s trial was set to begin later in the fall, and Logan would make sure she spent the rest of her life behind bars. Until then, she’d be in the burn unit, recovering from second- and third-degree burns over forty percent of her body. I wanted to feel sympathy for her, but Logan was right, it was her own fault, and we could’ve lost Oliver because of her. So I felt nothing but anguish for our little boy.
And that’s exactly what Oliver was, ours. Logan and I may not have created him together, but he was my son in every other way, and I wanted him to know it.
I tilted his head back in my direction and told him in the best way I knew how. “I would be honored to be your mommy. And no matter what, you’ll always be my little boy.”
His smile touched my heart and planted the image deep within when he threw his arms around my neck and clung tightly.
I caught movement in my peripheral and saw Blythe, Julia, and Babs standing in the entryway to the dressing room, all holding dresses that were no longer needed and all with bright-red, tear-stained eyes.
Chapter 9
Julia dropped Oliver and me off in the driveway around seven that evening, anxious to head over and spend some time with Luke. With her classes already having started a couple weeks ago, I was tempted to ask how homework was going, since I suspected that was what she really needed to go work on and not her man. But considering all her help that day, I kept my teacher thoughts to myself.
One more week, and I’d be busy with homework again myself—grading my students’. There was an extra bounce in my step as I imagined myself walking into the teachers’ lounge on the first day back after the wedding, knowing so many single teachers had tried and failed to gain Logan’s attention while I had not only his love, but his devotion.
No matter how much excitement I felt, though, there was still a nagging pull I couldn’t explain—that missing piece my brain couldn’t find that, once again, I tried to ignore.
The house smelled delicious when we entered, and the view was even better. Logan stood barefoot in the kitchen, wearing low-slung white pajama pants and a fitted shirt, cooking dinner. A consuming urge to pounce on his back and smother him with kisses took over until I was reminded why it wasn’t an option.
“I’m hungry,” Oliver said at my side. I mussed his hair and smiled down at him.
“Almost ready.” Logan turned and winked at Oliver, who started toward the dining table. “Sweetheart.” He held open his arms for me to fall into. “How’d it go? You find a dress?”
“I found it!” Oliver exclaimed, bopping around on his chair. “Cassie looked like a princess!”
“I bet she did.” Logan released me to return to the stove, stirring something in a large pot. “So you helped her?”
“I sure did. Didn’t I, Cassie?”
“He saved the day,” I agreed, slipping into the chair next to his.
Logan turned toward us, looking pleased. “Fantastic. Son, go get washed up for dinner, then you can set the table.”
Once Oliver had made his exit, Logan used the opportunity to pull me to my feet and bury his face in my neck, squeezing my hips as he kissed my flesh. “I can barely control myself, thinking of you in a wedding dress, becoming my wife.”
“Me too,” I nearly panted, lost in his touch. “How was your day?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. I only wanted to absorb his embrace in that moment.
His tongue skimmed below my ear. “Work and more work.” He nipped at my shoulder. “I called my father, though. Gave him the happy news. He said he’d help in any way he could. Even offered to pay.”
And there it was; like a hard slug in the gut, my elusive dread reemerged. My father, a man I hadn’t seen since I was a child, would not only not be offering to pay, but wouldn’t be walking me down the aisle. I had no one to do that.
“That was nice,” I stammered, my nerves resurfacing at a violent speed. “I better go clean up, too. Long day.” After making the excuse, I nudged my shoulder up to push him back, then attempted to hurry away.
But Logan caught me around the waist. “What’s wrong?” His penetrating gaze was too much to bear, so I stared down at my feet, unsure why I couldn’t just explain the sudden sadness crushing me from the inside out. He knew I didn’t care about my father anymore, so he might not understand why it mattered that he wouldn’t be there to give me away.
“Just a little headache, that’s all.” I gave a weak smile, then balanced up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “A little aspirin, and I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t look convinced, but accepted my words nonetheless. I moved quickly, feeling his stare on my back as I slipped out of the room and escaped into the bathroom.
With a firm grip on the sink, I inhaled deeply through my nostrils and blew the breath back out through my mouth in a long, steady stream. This was ridiculous—silly, honestly. But still, I needed more than painkillers and time alone. I needed some fresh air.
To my relief, the window provided just that, calming my festering nerves and giving me room to search within myself for all the reasons why my father wasn’t important. But they weren’t coming to me.
I wasn’t just an angry daughter. I was a bride who wanted her father to give her a wise piece of advice, tell her she looked beautiful, then walk her down the aisle to give her away to the man she loved.
The tears that filled my eyes were shocking and frustrating. There was no way that man was ruining my wedding day. But still, when I left the room to return to my family, the wound I’d held hidden and closed for so long in my heart was now open and raw.
Dinner was a favorite of Oliver and mine, tortilla soup. And despite the deliciousness and amazing company, I struggled to maintain polite, engaged conversation through the meal. Luckily, Oliver fielded most of Logan’s questions with excited chatter as I fought the painful void filling my chest and stomach.
I took my final bites as Logan stood suddenly and took Oliver’s plate. “Go get changed into your pajamas and brush your teeth,” Logan told him, setting the dishes in the sink. “I’ll be in to read you a story in a bit.”
I watched Oliver exit rather than meet Logan’s eyes, which I could feel assessing me—much like they had been the entire meal.
“What aren’t you telling me, sweetheart?” Logan moved toward me but I was up, dish in hand, ready to do anything but discuss something I didn’t fully understand myself.
“Nothing,” I lied, focusing solely on the dishwasher I’d begun loading.
“Bullshit,” he snapped. I peeked up, catching him run an irritated hand through his hair. “You know you can’t lie, so please tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
I surprised myself with how hard I slammed the dishwasher door shut. “It doesn’t matter!”
Logan said nothing as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Please just talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”
My eyes slammed shut on a heavy sigh. “It’s fine, really. I just…” I tried to step away but he held me more tightly, and suddenly I couldn’t stand it. “I want to get married on my grandparents’ land, and—”
“Of course.” He swung me around to face him, but my heavy head remained down, my eyes locked on the floor.
“And the band hasn’t called back, and—”
“I’ll take care of it.” His easy agreement was somehow exacerbating my frustrated mood.
I finally looked up and said, “And I want to make sure you like the flowers, too. And the menu—you said anything I want, but what if I pick something you hate?” More tears were welling up in my eyes the more I rambled, and when I moved to step out of his grasp, he didn’t stop me.
“Impossible. I’ll love anything—”
“And what about the colors? I like gold and pale blue, but royal blue is nice too. You love blue, but what shade do you want? And you keep saying whatever I want is perfect…” Tears flooded out. “But it’s not perfect. My mom still has to ma
ke sure she can get the day off or she won’t even be there, just like she wasn’t today to see my gown. And your dad is so nice and normal, while mine…”
“Sweetheart.” He reached for me, but I distanced myself farther as I felt my entire heart split open.
“My father doesn’t even know me! He doesn’t know he’s missing my wedding! And maybe he would care if he knew. Maybe if…I mean…I don’t…” My body crumpled, but Logan was there to catch me, as he always was.
“Hey, look at me.” He tipped my chin up, wiping my tears with his thumbs.
I heaved out an exhausted sigh, shaking my head. “I just need…I…I need to go say goodnight to Oliver.”
Logan released me without another word, allowing me the reprieve I needed.
Chapter 10
By the time I reached Oliver’s bedroom door, I’d pulled myself together. I read him one of his favorite stories, then answered a few questions about the wedding plans before tucking him in and saying goodnight with a kiss to his forehead.
Part of me wanted to search out Logan and fall into his lap to talk out every emotion I was feeling, but another part—the side that won—told me to take a hot bath and try to clear my head. I was too emotionally and mentally drained for an actual conversation, and I knew a bath would help relax me. So even though it took all my energy, I climbed into the water and allowed my eyes to close.
I woke with a start not long after, splashing water over the edge of the tub as I whipped my head from side to side, familiarizing myself with where I was. With a heavy sigh, I stood and grabbed a towel to wrap around myself, then headed into the bedroom.
Logan had left his white dress shirt from work on the chair in the corner, so I dried just enough to slip it on before crawling under the blankets. The bedside clock read nine fifteen, which meant Logan was probably in his office. He usually spent time in there before bed.
We needed to talk—especially considering the way I’d run out on the conversation earlier. But since he hadn’t come to me, he must’ve wanted to give me space, so that’s exactly what I took. I didn’t wait up, surrendering to exhaustion as my heavy eyelids fell shut.
As the bright rays of the risen sun sneaked through the blinds, I woke the next morning to find I was still alone. I sat up, brushing my hair over my shoulder as a sense of discontent set in. It was a few minutes past eight and the house was silent, Oliver’s chatter and footsteps noticeably absent.
As much as I appreciated Logan giving me time alone, this was a bit much. I hurried to wash my face and brush my teeth, throwing on a robe before heading down to the kitchen.
The first thing I noticed aside from the confirmation that I was, in fact, alone was a note on the counter. I read it twice, my barely awake mind confused.
Logan had to leave on a sudden business trip, and had taken Oliver to his mother’s house. Enjoy the peace and quiet to finalize plans, and call if you need me, it finished.
I slumped down into a dining chair and placed the note on the table in front of me, as well as my elbows to brace my pounding head resting in my hands.
Something felt off. Going out of town without saying goodbye, or letting me give Oliver a hug? Not normal or acceptable procedures for a family. Was I marrying into a loop I’d just been left out of?
Concerned and equally aggravated, I ran to the foyer where I’d left my phone and grabbed it, dialing Logan. My foot tapped in an impatient rhythm as I waited for him to answer. But he didn’t; his voicemail taunted me with his voice.
Stunned this was real, I called his mother to check on Oliver.
“Cassandra, good morning,” she answered, as if nothing was amiss.
“Good morning, Blythe,” I blew out, relieved she’d answered. “I’m sorry to call so early, but I just wanted to check on Oliver.” I wasn’t sure exactly what to say. This whole situation was putting me on edge, but I definitely didn’t want to imply there was a problem if she didn’t already know.
“Oliver’s just fine. Logan dropped him off earlier, and we’re about to cook up some French toast together.” Her voice was muffled as she said something in the background, I assumed to Oliver, before it cleared again. “You don’t worry about a thing but your wedding, dear.”
“Right, I just…Logan forgot to tell me where his trip was to, and I didn’t want to call and bother him if he was in a meeting,” I lied.
“Come, now. You know he never considers you a bother, and would be insulted to hear you think so. But sadly, I’m unable to help. He didn’t mention where he was going, as he rarely tells me details. I’m sorry. But you should call him. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you, since he mentioned you were still asleep when he left.”
“Yeah, I was.” Anger radiated through my concern. “All right. Well, thank you, and let me know if you or Oliver need me. And please tell Oliver I love him.”
“Of course. Have a great day, Cassandra.”
Okay, so Logan had apparently given her the same story, which meant there may have been some truth to it. As unorthodox as his methods were, it seemed he was truly thinking of me, and wanted to let me sleep in.
But I still needed to hear his voice, desperately. So when my second call to his cell went unanswered, I sent a text.
What’s going on? Wish u would have woken me up to say goodbye. Call me.
His reply dinged several minutes later as I sat eating breakfast.
Sorry I couldn’t answer before, still traveling. I did say goodbye, while you were snuggled to my pillow.
Why didn’t u wake me up?
U needed sleep and looked too beautiful to take that from u.
And just like that, my defenses lowered. The man always knew exactly what to say to make me melt.
Where are u? When r u coming home? Miss u.
Miss u too. Trip was last minute, but I’ll only be gone a day or 2. Please use this time to plan, no distractions, and call me if u need anything.
I couldn’t leave it there. I needed peace of mind. So I quickly typed exactly what I needed to know.
Are we okay?
More than okay sweetheart, always. Have fun today. I love u.
Love u too. xoxo
When I set the phone down, I was still wishing our conversation had been through the phone line and not text so I could better feel him out. But I understood, since he was traveling—perhaps on a plane? Still, I couldn’t quite shake the suspicion that something was wrong. But then again, with my catastrophic previous night, he probably did think giving me some space was for the best.
I’d been overly dramatic. If the worst thing I had to worry about was marrying the man of my dreams, why was I complaining? I could walk myself down the aisle, and as long as Logan was waiting at the altar for me, nothing else truly mattered.
With a new perspective, I started toward the stairs just as Julia came bursting through the front door.
“Morning, chica! You ready? We got a lot to do today!”
“We do?” I asked mid-step, craning my neck around.
She held up a large, overflowing tote bag. “Yeah! With your man away, we have room to play! This wedding is gonna be spectacular!”
Luke entered a moment later, carrying two large boxes. “Where ya want ’em?” he asked.
“Middle of the living room,” she directed.
“Um, do I want to know what’s in those?” I asked hesitantly.
“Samples!” She followed Luke.
“Of what?” I dared to ask.
“Decorations, for the reception. Logan is having them install a giant tent next door, and we get to pick out everything to fill it with! Candles, fabrics, you name it. We can have it all done by this weekend, I’m sure. Sounds fun, right?”
I smiled for the first time all morning, eager to lose myself in creating my dream space.
By the time I lay down in bed that night, feeling satisfied that most of the wedding details were worked out and Blythe would handle bringing it all together, I was not only exhausted but missin
g my boys fiercely. I hadn’t heard from Logan the rest of the day, and Julia had me too busy to reach out to him. Not hearing his voice for almost twenty-four hours stung at my chest.
I texted him a simple goodnight, and that I missed him. But I knew business trips were part of his package, so I clutched his pillow and allowed slumber to take me.
My phone dinged a few minutes later before I was fully asleep.
Sleep well beautiful.
Miss u.
How was ur day?
Long but got all the details covered, now we just have to make it all happen. Weddings are more work than most realize.
Yes.
That’s it? Okay, whatever business he was handling was obviously keeping him more occupied than usual. He’d never not called when he went away, and he was obviously distracted.
Goodnight.
I placed the phone next to me and snuggled further into his side of the bed. Nearly four minutes passed before he replied—yes, I watched every minute tick by on the bedside clock while waiting.
Pack a light bag in the morning. Caleb will pick u up around noon for the airport.
Is he serious? Where is he sending me only a few days before our wedding?
What? What’s going on?
Again, he made me wait, giving my brain time to think through too many possible scenarios. Maybe he was sending me on a spa trip on some private island? No…he was wealthy, but not financially irresponsible. I wouldn’t accept it anyway, and he’d know that. There were no places I could see him sending me.
My phone dinged again, but this time the text was from Hilary.
Just overheard Caleb on phone with Logan. You better not run off and elope without me there!
Elope? No way! Still, the idea wouldn’t leave my head, so I texted Logan again.
Where am I headed?
His reply was instant this time.
To me.
Chapter 11
I didn’t ask any further questions, forcing myself to find sleep instead, which only lasted a few hours. By five a.m. I was wide awake, showered, and packing my duffle bag. Since I had no clue as to my destination, I grabbed a mix of summer and fall outfits, then made my way around the house tidying every nook and cranny until Caleb arrived to pick me up.