Perfectly Damaged
Page 84“Thank you, Dad.” He waves bye to Charlie and leaves. I focus back on Charlie. “Logan left?”
She stops, her hands resting over the counter, and then she looks at me. “Yes. Logan quit months ago. He said he needed a new start. He moved to the Poconos and has been staying at the lake house. He began working on small projects around there.”
I swallow hard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were finally getting yourself together. And he thought it was best.”
I shake my head. “He? The two of you have been talking?”
“Not much, just through text. He only texts me to check in on you. I didn’t even know about his uncle until today.”
“How could you keep that from me, Charlie?” I stand, pacing in the kitchen as I reach for the locket secured around my neck.
“Like I said, he wanted to keep it that way.”
Wetting my lips, I stop my pacing. “Does he not want to see me?”
“Jenna, he loves you. He always has. He asked me to respect his wishes and not mention him to you. I thought it was ridiculous and that the two of you need each other, but he made me promise.”
I rush to the closet, grab my jacket, and snatch my keys from the counter.
“Where are you going?” Charlie shouts out.
“To the lake house.”
After the longest two and a half hour drive of my life, I finally reach the lake house. I stop and admire it for a moment. It looks different. Quiet. There’s no music or people partying or Ping-Pong games set up. It’s simply peaceful and beautiful.
Instead of using the front entrance, I walk around the back. My heart skips a beat when I see Logan’s truck. He’s here. I find the courage to climb the stairs of the deck and gently knock on the door.
My knuckles scrape against the door as I knock louder this time. Still there’s no answer.
Air leaves my lungs in frustration. I’ve come too far to just walk away. Turning, I head for the swing bench by the large tree, thinking I could wait there for him. That’s when I see him. He’s on the dock by the lake. I take in a lungful of air, hoping it will give me the confidence to face him.
I slowly travel down the long path that leads to the dock. My legs tremble as I continue down the wooden boards. His back is facing me. He’s standing by the edge, looking over the lake, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his khaki shorts. A white T-shirt hugs his figure, exposing his broad shoulders, and he’s wearing the Phillies cap.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I say as I get closer.
His body stiffens; slowly, he tilts his head and looks over his shoulder. I freeze in place and take this second to appreciate the sight of him. He looks down and then turns around so he’s facing me.
I take a few steps forward until we’re arm’s length away from one another. “Hey,” I say, my eyes glued to his.
“Hey,” he says back, swallowing.
We both stand here for a long time, trying to figure out if this is real. Both our chests and shoulders move rapidly with our breathing.
“You look really good,” he finally says.
“So do you,” I say quietly.
His brows furrow. “How did you get here?” he asks.
“I drove.”
His face lights up. “You’re finally driving, huh?”
I let out a nervous chuckle. “No. Actually I took a taxi.”
“I heard about your uncle. I’m sorry.”
He looks up. “Thanks. He’s strong. He’s going to beat this.”
I nod. “I know he will.”
Another round of silence. Then his gaze drops to my neckline. “I see you got the necklace.”
I lift my hand and touch it. “Yeah. I love it. Thank you. This necklace and your letter got me through a lot during my recovery.”
His lips slant, eyes tearing up a bit. “I’m glad to hear that. I meant everything in that letter.”
“I know.” I break out into tears. Then laugh. “I’m sorry. God, I didn’t want to cry.” I wipe my eyes.
Logan closes the three steps between us, and before I know it, his hands are on my face, wiping my tears away. “So, what’s new with you?” he asks, his eyes tracing my features.
“I’m painting again,” I admit, blinking away my tears so I can see him.
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I’m glad to hear that.”
I nod. “And I applied to school. I’ll be starting in the fall, and over the summer I’ll be teaching art at a day camp.”
His face shows so much pride. “That’s good. Real good.”
I moisten my lips. “You? What have you been up to?” I manage to ask.
“You know.” He shrugs. “A little of this, a little of that. And missing you.” His smile fades. “I’ve missed you, Jersey Girl.”
He shuts his eyes.
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For believing in me. For loving me. For looking past the ugly and finding the beauty hidden beneath. You know, I’m learning a lot, and there are times when it’s hard to love myself, but every time I think of you, I always think, if someone else can dig deep and fall in love with even my damaged side, then there is hope for me after all.”
His fingers graze my face. “I didn’t have to dig deep to love you, Jersey Girl. Digging takes work. Falling in love with you was the simplest thing I’ve ever done.”
I look up at him; his eyes are filled with sincerity and love. I reach out and frame his face with my hands. I miss this—the way he feels, the way I feel around him. I just miss him. Logan loves me…for who I am. He’s never looked at me any different, he’s never judged me, and never ran away when I was at my worst; he’s always been here, even when I tried to push him away.
I stand on my tiptoes and touch my lips to his. For the first time, I don’t allow the voices or fear of loving someone to take over. I allow my heart to.
He pulls away, his forehead resting on mine. “Where do we go from here?” he asks.
“Let’s just take it one day at a time.”
He smiles. “I like that.”
I smile too. My gaze looks past him and I take in the scenery.