bChapter /b111

    b“/bbWhat’s /bthis?” Emery asked, stopping short at the dining table.

    55 vouchers

    A full spread waited for her. It was an English breakfast, pared down and cleaner than the usual heavy version.

    There were two poached eggs sitting on a bed of wilted spinach, the yolks glossy but set. Next to them, grilled tomatoes sprinkled with a little salt and pepper, the skins just split.

    A small portion of turkey sausage instead of pork, seared and sliced on the diagonal. Mushrooms sauteed until dark and tender. Whole–grain toast brushed with a thinyer of butter, plus a little dish of mashed avocado with lemon.

    On the side bwas /bba /bcup of Greek yogurt with sliced strawberries and what looked like a drizzle of honey, and a pot of ginger tea steaming gently.

    “It’s for the baby,” Logan said, setting down cutlery and a folded napkin.

    Emery’s mind shed tost night. She recalled the cat apron, the soup. After her dinner, she took a bath and he actually helped her too. It was him who handed her a towel and stood behind her with the hair dryer, careful not ito /itug. All of it felt new and undeniably… awkward.

    “You cooked this yourself?” she asked.

    “Yes,” he said. “It’s simple.”

    Emery couldn’t help a small smile. She’d spent years with Samuel and he had never cooked for her. Not breakfast and especially not dinner. It was always her in the kitchen, or reservations at ces he liked. She looked at Logan. “Thank you.”

    He went still, as if her thanks caught him off guard. For a moment he just stared, saying nothing, like he didn’t know how to respond.

    Emery shifted awkwardly, then decided to close the space herself. She rose on her toes, aiming for his cheek in a simple gesture of gratitude. But just as she leaned in, he turned his head toward her. Instead of his cheek, her lipsnded on his

    mouth.

    It was nothing more than a quick, clumsy brush, but it was enough to make them both freeze. The contact was brief, unexpected, and left them staring at each other in surprise.

    Emery blinked, heat rushing to her bface/b. She cleared her throat and pulled back half an inch. “Uh–thank you,” she repeated, staring very hard at the yogurt. For some reason, the yogurt suddenly looked interesting. “You didn’t have to do all this. You can always have someone else cook. You’re busy. You should focus on yourpany and your people and-”

    She started to step around him. His hand closed gently around hers.

    b“/bBut you are my people,” he said.

    She looked up. He moved one step closer, not crowding, just enough to make her aware of his height, his warmth.

    “The most important one,” he added.

    Her face burned hotter “Right. Ehem. Well. Okay” She tried to soundposed and failed. “We… should eat before the eggs get cold. Do eggs get cold? Of course they do. I mean-

    He kept her hand for a moment longer, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles before finally letting go. b“/bbSit/b,” he said, his tone calin but with a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

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    b5:02 /bbpm /bP PPD ulli/li/ul

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    Emery’s thoughts stumbled. What was she even doing?

    She tore her gaze away from him and focused on the table instead. Pulling out the chair, she sat down. Logan slid the te in front of her, then reached for the teapot and filled her cup. Emery picked up the fork, speared a piece of egg with spinach, and took a bite. Then she nodded in approval.

    “It’s good?” he asked, trying to be neutral andnding somewhere closer to hopeful.

    “It is,” she said, then took another bite to prove it. “The baby approves.”

    A corner of his mouth lifted. He then set a small saucer of lemon beside her teab, /bthen hovered like he wasn’t sure whether to sit or keep adjusting things. The awkwardness hung there, gentle rather than heavy. A part of her was thankful that no one else was inside the house. If there were other people, this scene would have been too… awkward.

    “Logan?”

    “Mm?b” /b

    “You can… sit. With me.” She gestured to the chair across from her. “Unless the view already made you full again.”

    That earned a soft huff of augh as he sat. For a moment they just ate, her fork scraping lightly, his fingers turning the teacup handle so the seam faced away from her like some tiny, needless courtesy.

    “After breakfast,” he said, “I’ll take you to your appointment. Then I’ll handle calls from the car.”

    “You don’t have to rearrange everything.”

    “I already did.” He met her eyes. “It’s not a problem.”

    She looked down at the toast to hide a smile and tore off a piece. “You’re very… organized.”

    “I’m motivated,” he said.

    Her pulse skipped. She chased it with ginger tea. “Right.” Motivated to do what exactly? She suddenly wondered if this was because of Samuel.

    He reached across, set a tiny ramekin of jam near her elbow. “In case you want it sweeter.”

    She noticed how their hands rested on the table, close enough that a few inches separated them but not quite touching. The small detail made her pause before she looked back up at his face. “This is… nice,” she admitted.

    He nodded. “Get used to it.”

    Another blush crept up. She immediately scooped a little avocado onto her toast to keep her hands busy. “Bossy.”

    “I’d like to call it… efficient,” he corrected, but his eyes warmed.

    They ate the rest like that, little nces, small adjustments, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty. When she finished, he took her te, rinsed it, and came back with the tea pot to top off her cup.

    “Ready?” he asked.

    She stood, smoothing her shirt. “Yeah.” She hesitated, then reached for his hand the way he had reached for hers. b“/bAnd… thank you. For breakfast. Andst night.”

    He didn’t bsay /banything for a beat. Then his fingers curled lightly around hers. “Anytimeb./bb” /b

    b2/3 /b

    b5:02 /bbpm /bP PPD.

    55 bvouchers /b

    “But you don’t have to do something like this…” Emery said suddenly, her voice low. “It must be because of what happened yesterday, right? Did Sebastian tell you about it?b” /b

    Logan studied her for a moment, bhis /beyes steady on her face. “He did.”

    “Then…” she exhaled, turning her head away. “You don’t have to do anything just to make me feel special. I knew what I was doing. I wasted years of my life with a man who didn’t value me. That’s on me. You don’t have to fix it. You don’t have to….” Her throat tightened. “You don’t have to make up for his mistakes.”

    “Em,” Logan interrupted, firm enough to stop her from going further.

    She looked back at him, her brow arched, skeptical. Deep down, a part of her didn’t believe him. The timing was too neat, too close to Samuel’s scene. She would be naive to think this wasn’t connected.

    But Logan leaned closer. “I’m not doing this because of yesterday. I’m doing this because you’re my wife. We’re here alone, no omegas, no staff, no one else to lean on. It’s just you and me. And I want to take care of you,” then his eyes lowered down to her belly. “And our child.”

    After a quick pause, he added. “I just…I want to take care of you and our child… forever.”

    AD

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