_OceanofPDF

“Can you meet him in the middle?”
“I don’t know if he’ll take the middle.”
“Can you ask him?”
I nodded, intending to ask but not knowing if I’d have the courage to
hear the answer.
Logan Crowne looked magnificent in his navy suit, strong hands folded
in front of him, standing next to his lawyer, a red-haired woman in her
fifties wearing a lavender pantsuit under an armor of confident impatience.
They stood when I entered the conference room with the lawyer Mandy had
found for me. He had warm brown eyes and a nose textured like
cauliflower, and he’d promised he’d get it over quickly.
Logan checked his watch. I hadn’t thought about that leather strap on
his wrist in a long time. When I first saw it, I thought it hinted at a little
darkness. A touch of the wild in him. In the daily grind of marriage, I’d let
myself forget about that first impression.
I’d missed an opportunity. I should have arrived earlier, without the
lawyer. I should have texted him before and asked if he could meet me
halfway. I should have called the whole thing off to give myself a moment
to think about what Bianca had told me.
But there we were, sitting on opposite sides of a shiny table, flanked by
lawyers looking out for our best interests without knowing what our best
interests were.
Not that I knew either, but did he know?
I couldn’t look at Logan’s face, so I kept my gaze on his hands and their
reflection on the glossy tabletop, his gold wedding ring bouncing as his
fingertips tapped one after the other. Nerves? Impatience?
“My client agrees to all the terms set out in the consent decree,” his
lawyer said, taking out a folder.
I meant to look at my lawyer to gauge his reaction, but I looked at
Logan instead.
Blue eyes fixed on me, lush mouth twitching as if he held back a smile.
Shoulders relaxed. Not uneasy or anxious. He was happy to be there.