The apartment's darkness and silence greeted Logan and me when we arrived home. He changed out of his suit and into a T-shirt and sleep pants while I headed into the kitchen and pulled out leftovers that I'd made earlier, just some leftover chicken and vegetables since tomorrow was another grocery run.

Mental note, Sunday I need to do an Ellie's Kitchen update too.

"Thanks." Logan sat down at the table with a sigh.

"You okay?" I placed my closest hand on his shoulder, which was tight with tension.

"Yeah," he replied in a low, flat voice, absently ran one hand through his hair, then rubbed at the back of his neck. "I can't believe Emmitt got hurt."

He didn't have to say where his thoughts were, how quickly the game changed or even potentially ended for a player. I'd held that concern for Jake, still did if I thought about it. Once Logan was my boyfriend, I'd clutched onto Grace's hands during every high school game of his that I'd witnessed, and the same nervous apprehension rose inside me once his cleats trotted out onto Huskies Field.

All of the guys took the risk of injury every time they walked on the field, in practice or games, which was stressful and concerned their family and loved ones. While I was glad that Logan had won today's game, I knew the victory was bittersweet.

"Charlie texted me that he'd gone for some x-rays and an MRI." The uncertainty of the starting quarterback situation also hung in the air but two things I knew for certain happened if Logan became the starter. First, he'd take the position by storm and never look back, but second, his attention level increased one hundred-fold.

His hand on his neck moved and rubbed over his throwing arm's shoulder. "I'm not gonna lie, stepping out onto the field was awesome. I couldn't have imagined a better experience, even though we have a lot of improvements on offense. But still -"

"I know." I squeezed his shoulder muscle, then before my movements registered in my brain, walked behind him, grabbed his throwing arm's shoulder in both hands, and kneaded my fingers and palm into the tight muscles. I certainly was no Charlie but had seen how she worked over sore muscles enough times that I least mimicked the movements.

"Ahh..." Logan groaned, dropped his chin to his chest, then rolled it sideways and stretched his neck. I moved my hands up and rubbed the pads of my thumbs against the tension knots he held there, until he put one of his hands warmly over mine and stopped me. In one breath, he lifted one of my hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss there.

"Thank you," he murmured into the back of my hand. "Let's eat though, please."

"Sure." I took the seat next to him and slowly worked my way through dinner. Honestly, I wasn't very hungry and the longer we sat in silence, the more I just pushed food around my plate.

Logan and I had slipped into some oddly domesticated lifestyle together, nothing that was forced but had just happened. There was an odd, homey comfort to his presence and, for the first time since I'd been shocked at the sight of him, I was genuinely glad that he was here.

That comfort did nothing about the giant lump of guilt that took up residence in my stomach at what I needed to tell him. Dr. Stern's suggestions that I led with his feelings resurfaced, despite one thing that obviously needed to happen.

I need to apologize to him.

"You played great," I finally broke the silence with an admission that suddenly made me feel shy. "I... didn't say that earlier."

"Thanks." His eyes lifted to me but they were full of an unreadable emotion, like he knew that wasn't the direction I steered the conversation towards. How he felt about that though, I wasn't sure.

"There's actually a lot of things I haven't said, I'm sorry." I rolled my lower lip under and studied his expression for a reaction. He remained impassive, just looked at me like he wanted me to continue.

"I'm not sure where to start," I admitted sadly as a welt of emotions lodged itself into the back of my throat.

"These things you want to say..." He set down his fork and leaned back slightly in his seat. With slightly furrowed brows, he asked, "Have you wanted to say them since you got here, or... sooner?"

"Both," I pushed out my answer in a husky whisper. "But seeing you again, here, definitely brought back a lot of emotional baggage that I've ignored for... years."

Logan's eyes dropped to my nearly full but abandoned plate, then he pushed his chair back, stood up, and offered me a hand. Under the impression that we moved our talk to the living room, I placed my hand in his and stood up. I took one step towards the couch but his arm tugged me back. Right as I turned towards him, he bent down and wrapped his arms around me.

"I know this hasn't been easy," he murmured over my shoulder as his hands circled around me and enclosed my lower back. "Seeing me again, I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out."

My spine went from stiff to relaxed in about two seconds and I melted into his familiar embrace. His warmth, his scent, and his strength caged around me and I nestled my cheek into the soft material of his T-shirt.

His chest heaved with a long, slowly released sigh. He stood so close that I swore I heard his heartbeat, then realized it was mine. But then, like he'd slightly changed his mind, he stepped back and put some breathing space between us.

"I was so stupid, Ellie." One of his hands reached out and gently stroked the back of his knuckles over my cheek. "I'm sorry I fucked up, years ago. And if me being here reminds you of that again, I'm sorry for that too."

His honest, straight to the point, and completely unexpected words unraveled my thoughts and his touch weakened my knees.

He's... the one who's sorry!? Why?

My mind traveled through the possibilities of what he meant, what he felt sorry for. Harper was right in how I'd forgiven her and Jake, mostly, but not Logan. While I now acknowledged that he'd shared similar concerns for my well-being, how he'd gone behind my back and tried to set up and incriminate Ryder were... irritating at best.

All I'd wanted was my assault experience dissolved away into the past but he'd brought it all out in the open when he scheduled us a non-coincidental visit at Ryder's school, UC-Davis. While he couldn't have anticipated how my brother beat the shit out of Ryder, then my parents' overreaction in how they treated me like I was fourteen and had just been assaulted, plus the legal drama that followed, Logan was the unnecessary catalyst of the entire shit-show.

The reminder of this flared annoyance inside me and derailed me off my original intent for this conversation. Like an oncoming, unavoidable accident that I just watched, all of my previous thoughts of apologizing evaporated in the kerosene of anger that he'd just doused on me.

"You fucked up?" I frowned, stepped back from the warmth of his arms, and hoped a few inches of space between us cut the tension that now charged the air in the apartment space. "It took you almost three years and no contact to come to that conclusion? What exactly are you expecting here, Logan? Do you care at all about my feelings?"

"Your feelings are why I didn't contact you," he mumbled like he gave a confession, but his eyes never left mine. "I wanted to call you every day. But you asked me not to, and if anything, I wanted to be respectful of what you wanted."

I did ask him that. Of all the times I wanted him to not listen to me, that would've been it.

"And no..." One of his hands raked over his hair again, a movement I knew he did when he was uncertain or uncomfortable. "I knew right away I'd fucked up but knowing you, I couldn't just apologize and grovel for a week or two and hope you'd forgive me."

"So instead of doing something, anything... you did nothing." My arms crossed over my chest. "Not like you to quit so easily, LT Hightower."

"Logan," he corrected me with a smirk, a lingering reminder of when I used to make him call me by the arm's-distance nickname Elle instead of Ellie.

He was stubborn enough then too.

"And I didn't quit," he added. "Actions were always more important to you, so I figured there weren't any words that expressed how sorry I was. You were at a point where no one listened to you and I thought... I listened."

"Are you sorry?" I lifted my eyebrows as fragments of the memory of the only awkward, similar level of irritation-charged conversation we'd had before I'd asked for space resurfaced in my mind. "Three years ago, I'm pretty sure that you were only sorry that I was upset, not for the actual reason because the ends justified the means."

"I'll never be sorry that piece of human waste gets what he deserves," his voice and expression hardened with his blunt, candid admission. "He still deserves to be behind bars."

Here we go again.

"But I am sorry about how it happened. And that I broke your trust." He stepped closer, which prompted my heart to abandon ship and it lurched down into my stomach. "You didn't deserve any of that shit that happened. But I thought... Well, I hoped..."

"What?" I sighed in frustration and absently ran my fingers over my hair. Monique's words about why he came to UW resurfaced in my mind, so I pressed, "What's your endgame here?"

Without a blink, his ocean blue gaze stared intensely at me. "That I could work towards being someone who deserved that trust again. That I could do something to show you how sorry I was before I saw you again."

Do something? What the hell is he talking about?

Within one blink, I knew what he meant and blurted out, "The self-improvements." He stiffened like I'd surprised him, and the silence that followed verified I was right.

With a soft huff, I pushed further, "Why?"

"Ellie..." His tone of voice edged with a warning that he wasn't ready to share everything with me. But I knew him better, he'd hinted, he'd teased, and danced around the edge of the truth long enough.

His unusual lack of brutal honesty here flashed a mild sense of irritation through me, so I pressed, "What are you hiding?"

"Oh, that's rich," Logan scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "You, upset that I'm hiding something from you."

He's deflecting.

My irritation level spiked momentarily at his accusation and how he'd side-stepped my question, but I pushed my emotions back and gave him the benefit of the doubt. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You cut me off for two and a half years," he replied in an oddly calm, collected voice, but the darker blue shade of his eyes gave away the emotions that stormed behind them. Plain and simple, he was mad, like he deserved to be. "Didn't tell me what happened, didn't yell at me for being angry at my part, didn't ask what my side was, just... nothing Ellie."

He's absolutely right.

The weight of Logan's words struck me hard and I deserved every blow from them. I wasn't sure how we'd fallen into this conversation but we were too far gone down this emotional tangent that we couldn't turn back to the apology that he deserved. The painful wound had been reopened, raw and exposed, until we rode this out and mended it.

Right when my lips parted, he continued, "Do you know how long I was hurt?" He shook his head like he answered his own question. "You don't. It wasn't days, or even weeks. I couldn't fucking function for months. Fuck, I'm still not even -"

My lower lip trembled at the anger and frustration that seeped into his voice, but still asked, "Not what?"

"I..." His hands pressed tightly into his tensed biceps. "Can't tell you yet."

"Well, that really helps your case," I spat back sarcastically and looked him over for his reaction. "My trust and forgiveness aren't just yours to take on blind faith."

I definitely struck a nerve inside Logan because his eyes darkened a few shades, his jaw clenched tighter, and the muscles in his arms tensed. My chest constricted not at the anger that soaked his voice, but the pain when he said, "You gave them to Jake and Harper. After what they did to you..."

He left the 'which was worse than what I did' words unspoken, but by the gleam in his eyes, I knew he both implied and thought along that line of thought.

"Do you see them here?" My voice wavered slightly but I stretched my arms out wide. "Do you know what conversations we've had in the past two years? Have you seen me interact with them, except for one phone call from Harper, teasing me at my expense?"

At the slight shake of his head, my voice dropped a level, "Guess you'd have to trust me that it's not the same, despite what you think it looks like on the outside."

The guilt that filled his eyes only fueled the sparks of irritation inside me further until a stronger, negative emotion took over. My fists tightened as waves of anger rose inside me and drowned out the irritation, until one of my fingers pointed accusingly at him.

"Appearances can be deceiving," I snapped back. "While we're on that subject, I'm not the same and don't know how I can help you realize that."

"I wouldn't know," he challenged me in a cool, even tone that for some reason only enraged me further. "You won't let anyone in past the surface, Ellie."

A lump of familiar emotions formed in my throat, led by guilt and followed closely by self-doubt and inadequacy, but I swallowed hard and fought them back. Logan's form near me blurred under a veil of tears and my voice sounded choked off when I admitted, "I'm not the same girl with a big, naïve heart or your confident, forward ex-girlfriend, Logan, I'm..."

Broken.

At that moment, a realization snapped inside of me. I wasn't only uncomfortable with my suppressed emotions from what we'd never resolved years ago. Now, small trembles ran through me at the idea that the version of me who stood here today was different from the girl I knew that he wanted.

This man right in front of me, who with just one intense look, suggestive smirk, or curl of his fingers over mine sent a warm blush across my entire face and flipped my stomach into somersaults, acted like, flirted with, and repeatedly said that his tastes hadn't changed. Our relationship three years ago was far from perfect but it had been real, deep, and meaningful enough that not only had we'd both clung to the possibilities ever since we'd parted, but we also held that above a potential relationship with anyone else.

At least... I did.

The weight of the realization that Logan was here only for my former self crushed down on my conscience and slumped my shoulders. This handsome, cocky, and kind-hearted man softened his anger and now looked at me with the same tenderness he had used three years ago. In return, I only questioned whether he saw his Ellie from his past or the version who now stood in front of him.

And more importantly, does he even want the version I am now? He says he does but... he doesn't know.

The one who has so many doubts, with so many steps to still take forwards.

The possibility that the man I knew, deep down, I was falling for again loved not me but the former version he'd held onto all this time ran a cold chill between my shoulders and down my spine. Logan turned himself away from any and all female attention that I'd seen thrown at him here in my favor, but I feared he also chased and wanted someone who didn't actually exist.

Like two years ago, I still overthought everything, sometimes to the point where I drove myself crazy. I led myself to assumptions about others, in particular Logan. But my self-doubt was stronger, to the point where I minimized my own self-worth and failed to acknowledge how anyone wanted to be with someone like me.

Especially someone like him.

But unlike last time, Logan stepped in with his own opinions. And by the determined look in his eyes, he wasn't going to let them go unheard.

"No, Ellie."

Suddenly his hand wrapped around mine and he stepped closer. Before I realized what happened, both his arms enveloped around me again and my body was pressed against him. In a near whisper-level voice, his words filtered down to me with the weight of someone who refused to believe me.

"You're not broken, Ellie. And I'm not giving up on you. I... can't."

I had no answers, explanations, or reactions other than mentally facepalmed myself that I'd said that word out loud. He took my silence as encouragement and filled it with words I didn't deserve from him.

"I missed you, Ellie." His arms tightened their grip and I heard how his heartbeat thumped wildly in his chest. "And I never stopped thinking about you."

For a brief moment, my resolve crumbled, my mind drained of all coherent thoughts, and I fell forwards in his grasp until I was lost in him. His touch, his warmth, his scent all surrounded me. My arms moved on their own and circled tightly around his waist, and my cheek nestled into the soft, comforting spot on his chest. I took in a deep breath and the fresh scent that calmed my frazzled nerves also lazily slid my eyes closed.

I even missed the way he smelled. On days he remembered deodorant.

"I don't think you're as different as you do," he added softly. "But I want to get to know all of you again, even the parts you think have changed."

The warmth and strength of his arms tightened around me, with all the promises of safety and security. But at that moment, the reasons behind his pain, everything I'd done to him resurfaced inside me with a giant pile of guilt and... I felt suffocated. My lungs closed in on me, my throat squeezed tight, and my mouth dried.

He's too close, this is too much.

There's no way he can know I'm the same person he wants.

"I... I can't." I gently pressed a palm to his chest and stepped into the only space where I could breathe. One of my hands yanked open the apartment door, I stepped through the threshold, and left.