CHAPTER 155: THE DRIFT BETWEEN US

Emma exhaled sharply. "Logan, you’re forgetting who the enemy is. It’s not Jean. It’s Tyler. It’s Alex. It’s every person who tried to break her... and you, for that matter. And now you’re doing their job for them by pulling away."

"You didn’t see her face, Emma," Logan said quietly, his voice hoarse. "The way she looked at him... like he still had power over her. Like he still wants her and it doesn’t matter that she is with me!"

Emma’s features softened, but her words didn’t. "Maybe because he still does in her mind. Things like these don’t disappear just because you are now with someone else."

That hit him hard.

Emma stepped closer, her voice now lower, calmer. "You know Jean. You know she doesn’t trust people easily. But she trusted you enough to ask you to stay. To stand beside her when she was breaking."

She looked him dead in the eye.

"Are you really going to punish her for surviving?"

Logan looked away.

The tension in his shoulders didn’t ease, but something in his eyes flickered. Doubt. Guilt.

Emma gave him one last piercing look. "Go to her, Logan. Before she starts to believe that maybe Tyler was right... and you never really cared at all."

____________________________

The black SUV pulled up to the grand hotel entrance, the gold emblazoned name glittering under soft, ambient lights. Bellhops rushed forward as the doors opened.

Logan stepped out first, buttoning his coat in practiced precision, his face carved from stone. Jean followed, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor as she looked around the opulent lobby, her heartbeat loud in her ears.

She tried not to look at him, but her eyes betrayed her... glancing toward his tall frame as he walked ahead to the reception, flanked by Henry and Emma.

He hadn’t said a word to her since the encounter with Tyler.

Not in the car.

Not even a glance.

As the receptionist handed over the keycards, Logan turned slightly, his voice clipped and low. "Three rooms. One for Hannah and Emma. The other for Jean and me. And the other for Henry."

Jean froze.

Her hands curled tightly around her clutch.

Share a room? With him?

The man who just pulled her out of a hallway like she was something shameful. The man whose warmth just hours ago had made her toes curl... now standing as if nothing had ever touched him.

She looked down, trying to ignore the twist in her chest. Emma caught her eye and gave her a brief, unreadable expression... somewhere between concern and understanding.

Logan turned toward her, holding out the keycard silently.

Jean hesitated, then walked up to him. She reached out to take it, but as her fingers brushed his, he pulled away like he’d been burned. Without a word, he pocketed the card himself and started toward the elevator.

Jean stood there for a second too long.

Why does it always feel like I’m the one reaching out?

She swallowed her pride and followed.

__________________________

The soft chime of the elevator echoed as Logan and Jean reached their floor. Neither spoke as they walked down the corridor, their steps quiet over the plush carpet. Logan swiped the keycard and opened the suite door.

Jean entered first.

The room was stunning... two walls of glass with a view of the sparkling city skyline, warm lighting, a king-size bed in the center, and an untouched bottle of red wine waiting with two glasses.

She didn’t look back as she stepped in, just walked to the window and wrapped her arms around herself, as if the glass might offer her something he wouldn’t.

Logan entered behind her, the door shutting with a click that sounded far too final.

He moved past her without a word, pulling off his blazer and placing it over a chair with mechanical precision. Jean watched the back of him... his stiff shoulders, the way he avoided her presence entirely.

"You’re angry," she finally whispered, her voice almost lost in the hum of the city outside.

Logan didn’t turn. "Should I not be?"

Jean’s breath hitched. "You don’t even know what happened."

"You’re right," he replied, his tone cold. "I don’t. Because you never told me anything. You still don’t."

Silence.

She took a hesitant step forward. "Tyler is my past. A nightmare. Nothing more."

He turned now, finally facing her... and what she saw in his eyes broke her a little. Not just anger. Not just betrayal.

Hurt.

"You should’ve told me that he was that close," Logan said, his voice low. "I saw your face, Jean. You weren’t just surprised to see him. You looked like his presence affects you. But when you are with me, you are too cold and distant. And yet... he gets to touch you."

Jean flinched.

"I didn’t let him," she whispered. "I... I froze. I couldn’t breathe."

Logan’s jaw clenched. "I still don’t know why you didn’t marry him, I know arranged marriages are common in powerful families. Even I saw you going to blind dates Jean, but why not Tyler? Why not marry Tyler?"

Jean stepped closer now. "Logan Tyler is..."

He will walk away once he knows what we had...

He stared at her. For a long moment, neither said a word. He waited for her but nothing came out of her mouth.

Then finally, Logan stepped forward and cupped her cheek... not roughly, not demandingly, but as if touching something precious he might break.

"I don’t care about being a hero, Jean. I care about you. You can’t shut me out like this and expect me to be okay."

Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t even realized they were coming.

"I’m scared," she admitted, voice trembling. "Of how close I was to shattering again. Of how real tonight felt."

He rested his forehead against hers. "You don’t have to pretend with me. Not tonight."

She nodded slowly.

"Then just... stay," she whispered. "Don’t touch me. Don’t leave me. Just stay."

"No."

Her eyes widened hearing his rejection.