Florence smiles softly, looking between Logan and me. I can tell she’s amused. Her eyes twinkle with a knowing look as if she sees more than we do.
“You must be making my grandbabies for you to look all flushed like this,” Florence says with a chuckle, pulling me into a hug.
“Oh my, Nadine, it’s good to see you again.” She then steps inside, making herself at home.
“Mum?” Logan calls out in surprise, scratching the back of his head. He realizes he’s been caught.
Laura and Lily exchange a look of amusement before giving me sympathetic smiles.
“Hi, Nadine,” they say, pulling me into their hugs.
We all head to the living room. I glance at Logan, noting that his cold demeanor has returned.
“What brings you all here?” Logan asks, slipping his hands into his pockets. His belt is still loose, and I smile, recalling the nearly naughty moment we were interrupted.
“I came to see my son and his wife. Is that a problem?” Florence asks, glancing between Logan and me. I quickly respond, “Not at all, Ma.”
Logan’s mother turns her attention to him. “But why aren’t you at work?” she asks, with concern clear in her voice.
The two girls start giggling, drawing puzzled looks from everyone. When they notice the attention, they stop and apologize in unison. “Sorry.”
“Logan is whipped,” Laura says with a grin. “He can’t get enough of his wife, which is why he came home early.”
“And we could tell he was trying to make grandbabies, as Mum rightly said,” Lily adds, and they both burst into laughter.
My cheeks flush as I hear Logan’s sisters teasing Logan, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise. Logan, equally red-faced, shifts uncomfortably but smiles at their playful jabs.
“You’re in my house, and you need to behave yourselves,” Logan says, his voice booming with authority.
“Yes, sir,” they reply with a mock salute, unfazed by his anger. They’re used to his sternness.
They quickly rush to him, wrapping their arms around him in a hug. Logan’s stern expression melts into a smile as he returns their embrace, planting kisses on each of their foreheads.
I watch them with smiles, knowing he can’t stay mad at them for long.
Lily decides to break the tender moment.
“Gosh, you smell like you’re wearing a woman’s perfume,” she says with a teasing grin.
Logan lightly pushes her away, shaking his head. “You haven’t changed a bit with your unbridled tongue.”
“That’s just biblical,” Lily retorts as she heads toward the kitchen. “Gosh, I’m starving. Is there any food in this house?”
I start to stand up to help Lily with some food, but Florence stops me with a gentle hand. “Leave her,” she says. “She’ll find food on her own.”
Logan settles onto the couch, looking at his mum “How is my father?” he asks.
“He’s fine,” she replied. “He sent his regards. He said I should tell you to hurry up about having an heir. He had you before he turned twenty-five, so he expects you to do whatever it takes to get things right. He’s already disappointed that we weren’t invited to your wedding, and he doesn’t want to miss the birth of your heir. Those were his exact words.”
Logan sighs heavily, he looks at me, his eyes locked onto mine. “I won’t deny him, I’ll do everything I can.”
I avoid Logan’s gaze, my eyes darting around the room. The reality of the contract, specifically the part about providing an heir, hangs heavily over me.
The pressure to fulfill this obligation feels less like it’s coming from Logan and more from his father.
The thought of it makes my heart sink. It’s hard not to doubt the sincerity of Logan’s words when I’m faced with such expectations.
Have I misinterpreted his feelings, convincing myself that I mean more to him than I do?
Laura and Lily enter the sitting room, carrying a tray with a bowl of rice and soft drinks. They settle at the dining table, the clink of cutlery breaking the silence.
I glance at Florence and stand up with a small smile. “Would you like some food?” I ask, heading toward the kitchen.
Florence returns my smile. “I’d love some, thank you.”
I nod and make my way to the kitchen, trying to push aside the doubts gnawing at me as I prepare a plate for Florence.
When I return to the living room, I see Logan watching me closely. I set the plate in front of Florence and sat down next to Logan, trying to steady my breath.
Laura suddenly speaks up. “Logan, guess who I ran into yesterday?”
Logan looks up, curiosity mingled with apprehension in his eyes.
Laura continues, “Gosh, she was so rude. I don’t know how you put up with her all those years. You were the one smitten, not her. The way she kept drifting in and out of your life was infuriating. What she did to you was terrible, but I’m glad you dumped her and married Nadine.”
I look between Laura and Logan, confusion clouding my face. Logan’s jaw clenches. It’s clear who Laura is talking about, but I’m left in the dark. What did this person do to Logan to provoke such anger?
Noticing the tense atmosphere, Lily chimes in quickly.
“The gala is today, so we decided to come over to prepare and head out from here. In case you’re wondering why we’re here.”
Florence is on a call, I guess it was serious as she steps away from the group.
I suddenly remember the gala, having completely forgotten about it. We still have four hours to prepare since it’s set to start at eight PM.
Logan, visibly annoyed, walks out of the living room. I hesitate, torn between following him or staying with his family.
After a moment’s thought, I decided to stay. They’ve come from their house to be with us, so the least I can do is keep them company.
The doorbell rings again, and I wonder who it could be. I’m relieved I’m not compromising. I open the door to find three ladies standing there.
“Hello, how may I help you?” I ask, puzzled.
“Hi, we’re massage therapists from Oasis Spa. Mr. West hired us to come for your massage,” one of them explains.
A smile spreads across my face, briefly lifting the weight of everything that happened earlier.
“Come in,” I say, stepping aside to let them enter. Lily and Laura walk in just then, and their faces light up with excitement at the prospect of a massage.
We find a room and settle in for the massage. It’s a relaxing moment, and soon after, the makeup artist arrives to work her magic. I hardly recognize myself when I look in the mirror.
We all get dressed, including Florence, Logan’s mom. I’m momentarily distracted by the preparations, but then I see Logan descending the stairs, impeccably dressed in a tuxedo.
I gulp down the lump in my throat as his eyes rake over me, making me shiver. He walks with a pronounced step and a look that makes me weak at my core.