This time, when we got to the gate, he gave the front desk workers (those who knew him) a hello nod and pulled me over to our own private corner. Or what we could find. There was one seat free, looking out over the tarmac. He put his bag down, took my bag, placed it beside his, then sat down and pulled me to sit on his lap.
His arms draped around me, holding me secure, and he rested his forehead on my shoulder.
I half-turned to him. “You okay?”
He nodded, closing his eyes as I raised my hand, touching the side of his cheek. “Just want you right now.”
I loved Logan. I’d always known I loved Logan, and it wasn’t a deal where we had a typical ‘honeymoon’ phase for the first few years. I was in love with him now more than ever. It grew every day, every month, every year. With every touch, every time he reached for my hand, every time he laced our fingers, every time he did things like this, like ignoring the rest of the airport behind us, pulling me to his lap, and then saying things like that. But not just saying it, meaning it.
He meant it.
A rush of warmth melted my insides, and I leaned down, giving him a small kiss. “I love you.”
He turned, his eyes smiling and so eternally warm. He found my mouth again.
We kissed a few more times, ignoring some of the comments from others, and after a bit, he just held me in his lap as we waited.
I was starting to have a feeling this trip was different from the others.
5
Present
I was nervous. Maybe I shouldn’t have been, but I was.
Logan had expressed his concern over having kids many times. There’d been talks, late-night discussions into the early hours of the morning, so I understood his fear.
I didn’t have the same fear. When I loved, I loved with everything in me. I knew I would try to be the best mother I could be, but Logan had different feelings.
I had to respect his fears, but this was a done deal.
I’d gone to the doctor. It was confirmed.
I even had a tentative inception date.
The doctor was the first to give me congratulations.
I waited to tell anyone. Not my father. Not Samantha. Not anyone.
It was Logan first. He was my best friend, and it was the night to do it, and I was shaking.
I made dinner, tacos for us, and yeah, my arms were actually shaking.
Then my phone pinged an alert.
Logan: Running late! Something’s going on with Dad so I have to head to Mason’s.
Logan: You should eat without me. I’ll grab something there.
Logan: Are you okay? You haven’t texted me much today.
I drew in a breath, one to calm my nerves.
Crap. What do I do here?
Tell him to come home instead? That would alarm him. He’d do it, but he’d come in wondering if something was wrong. I didn’t want to tell him like that.
But… if something was going on with his family, it could take days or weeks before a good time came up for me to tell him.
I needed to wait. I would wait.
The next time he was home, I’d tell him.
Me: I’m good. I’ll cuddle up with the boys tonight and watch TV. Let me know what’s going on when you know.
Logan: You want me to swing by and pick you up? We can bring the boys with us to Mason’s? Do dinner there instead. Sam won’t care. Maddie will love it.
Normally, yes. I’d be all over that.
Logan’s brother and sister-in-law were amazing. His nieces and nephew too. Barring his parents, Logan had a great family around him.
But not tonight. I wanted my own boys around me, and I’d wait to tell him.
Me: I’m tired or I would. Kinda want to chill with the pups tonight.
Logan: Okay. I’ll hurry home as soon as I can. Love you.
Me: Love you too.
Me: I made tacos, by the way.
Logan: OMG! Now you tell me!
6
Earlier
He did sweet things the entire flight to L.A. and then to Hawaii.
He held my hand the whole time.
He walked with me when I got up to go to the bathroom.
He went and got me water or coffee when he knew I was about to go and get some myself. Just very simple but thoughtful things. It was a continuous cycle. Not that Logan wasn’t like this usually. He was always sweet to me, always doing considerate things, but when we were around others, it was about the others. He thrived off that interaction. I usually got this treatment behind closed doors. Which was how we both preferred it, but I wasn’t complaining about this treatment—hell to the no.
He carried my bags for me, and he knew I didn’t care. A backpack was a backpack. We tended to both pack light on purpose. It was easier to grab and go than wait for baggage claim.