“Oh, please, Nadine,” Logan says, holding out the card. “Take it. We both know you don’t even have $50 to your name.”
His words hit me like a slap, and for a second, I was too stunned to respond. My fist clenches, and my eyes blaze with anger. I slam my hand onto the table, the dishes rattling with the force. But Logan doesn’t flinch. He just watches me, waiting for me to take the card, completely unfazed by my fury.
“Logan, how dare you?” I say through gritted teeth, stepping closer, my voice low and trembling with rage. “I’ve had it with you!”
Without waiting for his response, I storm out of the room, the walls closing in on me. I need to get away-away from Logan, away from this suffocating life that feels more like a cage with each passing day.
In my room, I fling open the closet, grabbing a comfortable gown. My hands move quickly, changing, pulling my hair into a ponytail, stuffing my bag with essentials. I don’t think, I just act, driven by the overwhelming need to escape. With one last look around, I leave the room.
I hurry down the stairs, praying I don’t run into anyone. I need to be out before someone tries to stop me. But of course, he’s already there, his eyes narrowing as he sees me.
“Nadine,” Logan calls, standing up from his chair.
I don’t respond. My legs keep moving, but within seconds, he’s in front of me, blocking my path.
“What?” I snap, my voice louder than I intended, and I see him flinch.
“Where do you think you’re going, Nadine?”
I laugh bitterly. “Anywhere but here. Anywhere away from *you,* Logan!” My voice rises, my hand cutting through the air as I shout. His eyes darted around, checking to see if anyone was watching. Of course, that’s what matters to him-our contract, appearances. Not what he’s doing to me.
“We can talk about this inside,” he says in a low, controlled voice.
“I don’t want to talk, Logan,” I say, trying to move past him, but he steps in front of me again. I try to push past, but he grabs my arm, his grip firm.
“Let me go,” I warn, my voice dark and dangerous, my fury boiling over.
I move closer, glaring up at him. “Do you remember the clause in our contract, Logan? You promised not to interfere in my business, just as I wouldn’t interfere in yours. Yet here you are, constantly overstepping.”
His eyes flicker with hurt, but I don’t care. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be. Be the gentleman you pretend to be and stay out of my business.”
For a moment, he hesitates, and then he releases my arm. I won’t waste the opportunity. I walk past him, my pulse racing as I step out the door. I feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to turn back. He doesn’t get to control me anymore.
He calls after me, his voice echoing behind me, but I keep walking until I’m far enough away.
The estate feels foreign, but I rely on my memory of past drives with Logan to find my way. The streets eventually lead me to the edge of the city, where the familiar hustle and bustle of life welcomes me.
I breathe a sigh of relief, finally free from Logan’s suffocating presence. As I walk through a nearby park, I settle on an empty bench, watching the carefree lives around me-children laughing, couples holding hands.
This is what I used to dream of, a life of love and simplicity. But here I am, trapped in a cold, loveless contract with a man who’s anything but simple.
I sense someone near me and glance up to see a man with piercing emerald eyes, his gaze fixed on me.
I stare back, unsure how to respond. “Can I help you?” I ask, trying to sound uninterested, but he just flashes a bright smile.
“Can I sit?” he asks, motioning to the space beside me.
I shrug. “It’s a public bench.” He sits, getting comfortable, but I keep my eyes on the kids playing in the distance, not in the mood for small talk.
“I’m Asher,” he says, still smiling.
I didn’t reply. Why should I? I don’t know him, and after everything with Logan, I don’t feel like being friendly with anyone.
He didn’t seem to mind my coldness. “I used to come here all the time with my daughter,” he says, with a soft voice. “She loved this place. But she lost her battle with cancer a year ago.”
His words hit me harder than I expected, and I snapped my head towards him, guilt flooding my chest. I’ve been so wrapped up in my misery, that I didn’t even consider that this stranger might be carrying his own.
“I’m sorry,” I say, with a quiet voice.
He shakes his head gently. “It’s okay. I just… I came here to remember her. Watching the kids play reminds me of how happy she was.”
I don’t know what to say. His story breaks my heart, and I suddenly feel awful for being so dismissive earlier. But before I can say more, he stands, flashing that same toothy grin.
“We all have our battles. Sometimes, even a smile from a stranger makes a difference,” he says, waving as he walks away. “Have a good day, Nadine.”
I watch him go, but as I sit there, my stomach growls, reminding me of how little I ate before storming out. I head to a nearby restaurant, grab a meal, and eat quietly, lost in thought.
I’m still hurt by Logan’s humiliation, but Asher’s words keep ringing in my mind.
Maybe I need to stop letting Logan’s actions define how I feel about myself. I know one thing for sure-I’m going to make something of myself. I won’t be stuck in his shadow forever.
After spending the day wandering the city, I eventually find my way back to Logan’s house, hoping for some peace. But as I walk through the door, I’m greeted by someone I never expected to see.