Logan

Today, like every other day, had been an overwhelming experience for me. Being a businessman in a competitive industry is no easy task. I had just finished a meeting with a client and was planning to take a brief moment of rest before my next appointment. A knock interrupted my thoughts, followed by Abigail, making her way towards my desk.

I took a deep breath. "Abigail, could we take a short break? Please bring me a cup of coffee."

"Of course, Sir," she replied and promptly left the office. I loosened my tie and leaned back, letting my head rest. My mind wandered to Olivia. I wondered what she was up to at the moment. I never anticipated that our lives would become entwined like this, but in some ways, I was relieved that it hadn't tarnished my reputation. At least, not yet.

"Young man," Brian waltzed into my office, his legs carrying him with a sense of purpose.

"You always know how to appear unannounced," I said, setting down the pen that seemed to have found its way into my hand on the table.

"You should be accustomed to my 'unannounced appearances' by now," he retorted, settling into the visitor's seat.

I reached for the telephone. "Abigail, make it two, please."

"So, how are you, young man?" Brian inquired, a hint of teasing evident in his voice. Brian always had one or two things to tease me about.

"Just say what's on your mind," I urged, my eyes fixed on him.

He glanced around nervously. "Do I have something on my mind? Yes, maybe I do."

I shot him a glare. "Anyone who knows Brian Ronald would testify to that. So, how has work been lately? You haven't been giving me updates."

Brian leaned forward, a serious expression on his face. "Work has been going well. But let's get straight to why I'm here. You're right, I do have something on my mind. How is Olivia?"

Ah, Olivia.

"I suppose she's doing fine," I replied, attempting to distract myself by organizing the papers on my desk.

"You suppose? What does that mean exactly?"

"It means exactly what it implies. She's still finding her place within the family."

The door swung open, and Abigail entered with two cups of coffee. "Thank you, Abigail," I said appreciatively, but I couldn't help but notice the playful wink Brian gave her.

"Are you hitting on my secretary?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Brian chuckled. "No, just expressing my gratitude. Now, let's get back to our discussion." He took a sip from his coffee, and I followed suit.

"I don't know, Brian. Olivia seems nice. From the brief time we've spent together these past two days, she strikes me as someone who would be committed."

"And you want to be committed?" I hesitated, unsure of how to answer.

Before I could respond, my mobile phone rang, cutting off our conversation. I glanced at the screen and then turned it over to Brian. "It's Olivia," I informed him.

An amused smile played on Brian's lips. "Husband duty calls," he teased.

I pressed the accept button and held the phone to my ear. "Hello," I started.

"Logan, are you still at work?" Olivia's voice held a touch of eagerness.

"Yes, why?" I asked, curious as to what she had in mind.

There was a rustling sound from the other end before she spoke. "I was wondering if you could get me something."

"And what might that be?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

"Fresh shrimp and crabs," Olivia's voice came through the phone.

Brian and I exchanged glances, it was as if he heard what she said. "Can't you order them? And are they safe for you to eat?"

Olivia's response was filled with determination. "I don't like the ones they sell here in Brooklyn. I want the ones from Brooklyn Heights."

I raised an eyebrow, realizing the extent of her craving. "Do you really think I have the time to go searching for shrimp and crabs? It's something you can easily order and have them delivered to you."

"Shrimp and crabs?" Brian mouthed, his eyes widening in disbelief.

I sighed, feeling a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Well, it's not like I'm the one craving them. I understand if you don't have the time. I can go there alone. It's just a fifteen to twenty-minute drive. Sorry for the inconvenience." The line went silent.

"Sorry for the inconvenience?" I repeated, the weight of her words sinking in.

Brian chuckle resonates in return. "She's definitely serious about it. So, what's your plan now?"

I let out a resigned sigh. "What else? She's using her words to attack me, making me feel guilty."

"The fact that I've never been to Brooklyn Heights before," I admitted, feeling a sense of unease settling in.

"Well, there's always a first time. It's your first time being a husband too," Brian replied with a hint of amusement. As much as I wanted to retort, I knew he had a point.

I should have anticipated the challenges that come with marriage. Perhaps Olivia intentionally made this request to test my responsibility or provoke me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to calm myself. As I parked the car and turned off the engine, I reminded myself that I was doing this for my own growth and for the sake of the baby. I reached for the nylon bag and made my way out.

The dining table was bustling with activity as usual, filled with the familiar faces of my family. Olivia and I exchanged glances, but I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting to be reminded of the lengths I had gone to in order to get her the shrimp and crabs. However, Amelia, always the curious one, couldn't resist poking her nose into the matter.

"What's that you're holding, Logan? I can smell fish," she inquired with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"It's shrimp," I replied, passing the bag to the maid who was serving my food. "Put it in the refrigerator," I instructed, and she obediently bowed before making her way to the kitchen.

Amelia's gaze shifted to Olivia, a knowing look passing between them. I knew I didn't have to explain any further. As a doctor and the only person who knows about Olivia's pregnancy, she's well aware of the dietary restrictions and precautions during pregnancy. We continued to eat our meal in silence, with my father and I briefly discussing company matters before everyone retired to their respective rooms, leaving just Olivia and me alone.

A good two minutes, if not more, of silence filled the room, each of us waiting for the other to break it. Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, I mustered the courage to speak up. "Um... the shrimp and crabs are in the refrigerator," I said, my voice breaking the stillness.

She nodded, but instead of acknowledging my effort or expressing gratitude, she simply stood up and headed towards the kitchen. An irritated chuckle escaped me. Was she intentionally testing my patience? I quickly pocketed my phone and followed her into the kitchen, curiosity and frustration swirling within me.

To my surprise, she had already taken the nylon bag out of the refrigerator. "This isn't the type of crab I want," she stated, her gaze fixed on me.

Did I hear her correctly?

I stepped closer, trying to comprehend her words. "I don't understand. What are you trying to say? Are crabs supposed to come in a particular design?"

Her eyes locked with mine, her tone unwavering. "Yes, there are different varieties. This is not the one from Brooklyn Heights," she explained matter-of-factly.

My frustration mounted, and I couldn't help but bite my bottom lip in exasperation. "If you only knew the lengths I went through to get you these things, you wouldn't be saying this. I had to drive all the way to Midtown Manhattan because the ones from Brooklyn Heights weren't fresh enough. And now you're telling me it's not the type you want. Seriously, Olivia, are you trying to provoke me or something?" I realized it was time to come clean, to let her know that I was aware of her intentions.

Her eyes fell slightly at my outburst. "I'm sorry," she muffled out.

"It's okay. I don't want you to feel bad for what I said. Enjoy your shrimp and crabs," I replied, my lips forming a thin line. I turned to walk away, ready to put this conversation behind us, when I felt a touch on my hand. It sent a shiver through my body. But just as quickly as the touch came, it disappeared as she withdrew her hand and cast her gaze downward. "Can you... help me? I don't know how to cook them," she said softly.

A chuckle escaped me at her remark. I found myself leaning forward, closer to the counter where the shrimp and crab awaited cooking. "You don't know how to cook them, yet you bought them?" I said, still smiling.

"Don't blame me. Usually, I would just order them when I have a craving. But now, with this," she rubbed her hand over her flat belly, "I don't trust all these restaurants anymore. And since you're here, you can help me. Or do you not know how to cook?"

"Says who? You'll be drooling over my food," I retorted with a smirk.

Though my busy schedule had reduced my cooking time, I was skilled in the kitchen. I had learned from my mother, and my culinary skills were not to be underestimated. "Why don't you let me show you what I've got, then?" I suggested, a spark of excitement igniting within me.