It's Only Logical

Chapter Eleven: Unwelcome Returns

[Three Years Earlier]

Logan sighed as yet another person shook his hand, offering condolences. He was tired, tired of the pitying looks, tired of the false compassion, and most of all he was tired of the aching hole where his heart should have been. His mother, the one person who had truly understood him and loved him, was gone. He didn't know how to deal with this, couldn't even fathom how to begin. He would have given anything to have a shoulder to lean on, and one would think his boyfriend would provide such a thing, but Jason was nowhere to be seen.

Logan knew they'd been having...well...more problems than usual. There had been some bitter arguments lately, particularly the one about the swimming pool. Jason wanted one, but Logan had put his foot down and refused. It was a waste of money, he had no need for such a thing, and the house and grounds were his, as was the money that would be spent on it, and he had other plans for those funds. If Minny's Garden was going to become what he wanted it to be, frivolities like that had to be cast aside. Jason had hired a contractor behind his back, and Logan had been furious. He'd stormed over to his backyard and flatly informed the man that if one person put a single shovel into his land, he'd call the police to scrape up what was left of them. With Jason he'd been even less patient, explaining that the house and the grounds belonged to him and any decisions made involving them were his. Jason had stormed off, but come slinking back later with a pot of violets and a meek apology, and Logan had taken him back, just like always.

When a wayward guest bumped into him, spilling a little wine on his tie, Logan had offered a polite smile and excused himself. Finally, an excuse to get away! He quietly slipped upstairs, heading to his bedroom, pulling off his tie as he went. He'd just barely cracked the door when he spotted the fire in the fireplace. It was down low, tossing hints of red and gold into the shadows. He heard them first, the quick breath, the low laughter, the rustle of clothing.

Then he saw them in the firelight, Jason, his boyfriend of two years, and the woman who was a guest in his home, supposedly here to mourn his mother's passing. Embracing. No...more like grappling, hurrying to touch and taste each other. He could feel the excitement from them, the snap of the illicit thrill, and knew even in those few shocked seconds that this wasn't the first time. Hardly the first time.

He stood, with the sounds of his mother's mourners behind him, and absorbed the betrayal, and the greasy slide of humiliation underneath it. He quietly stepped back, leaving them there, his hands shaking. He stuffed the tie in his pocket, then turned and walked back to the stairs.

There was a part of him screaming at him to go back, to shout at them, to make a scene, but he somehow couldn't muster the energy to even try. He was cold, numb, and this did nothing but detach him further from everything. If he'd learned anything over the last two years, it was that Jason Bryce lived on scenes, on drama and pain and emotions. Logan's eyes went dark and cold as he stepped back out into the living room, filled with people, his face a mask of indifference. It would be a cold day in hell before he gave that bastard the satisfaction. Logan felt nothing, and he doubted he would ever feel anything ever again.

When Jason snuck back down, coming to him with sympathetic eyes but still smelling of the other woman's perfume, he'd nearly gagged. When Jason had leaned in to kiss him, he'd subtly turned his face, so those traitorous lips could only brush his cheek. The woman he'd been with had quietly slunk out of the house, and Logan had let her go without incident, other than one pointed look that had her scurrying faster.

Once everyone was gone, and the house was quiet, only then did he allow himself to turn to Jason and let the façade drop. "I saw you, tonight. And her." Jason froze, his eyes widening slightly before he started to open his mouth.

"No, don't bother. Save the excuses. I really don't care. We should have been done ages ago, this just cements it. You have one hour to get your things and get out of my house."