Page 42 of Betrayed

Logan finally found his voice. “I should go take a nap before night shift starts. Stay safe, AJ. Let me know if I need to beat anyone up, okay?”

She nodded. “I will. Thanks for coming over.”

He darted out before his emotions got the better of him. As he strapped on his helmet, he could barely get his lungs to work.

Granny came out the back door and waved to him. He wasn’t sure he could handle talking right now, but it was Granny, and one didn’t not talk to Granny.

She walked right to him. “It’s good to see you, Logan.” She squeezed his arm and continued on her course toward her backyard.

Instead of driving away, he turned off his bike, removed his helmet, and followed AJ’s grandmother. She sat at the little wrought-iron table and chairs.

“Granny?”

“Yes, Logan? Join me.”

He sat, not sure what he wanted to say.

“What is it? What’s on your mind?”

“Everything, and nothing. I’m not sure.”

“Heavy heart?”

He nodded.

“You came to me, and you know I say it like it is. Are you ready to hear it?”

He shrugged.

She chuckled. “Oh, dear boy. You have always been full of passion and love. But when you suppress that love under unforgiveness, it sours and festers like a cut that didn’t get cleaned out.”

“I can’t forgive. What happened with AJ and Daryl … I just can’t.”

“You will never be happy if you live under that lie. Do you believe Jesus forgave the two of you for your impropriety before you got married?”

“Yes.”

“How is this different?”

“She betrayed me. That’s a whole different level.”

“Sin is sin.”

Thor’s hammer to the chest might have felt better. Logan stood. “Pray for me?”

“Every day, Logan. You’re my grandson by marriage. And I love you. Always have.”

“Love you too, Granny.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek before leaving.

His entire body shook as he remounted his bike. Helmet back on, he peeled out before the words he didn’t want to hear, but needed to, sank in.

Without Zara’s music playing, the apartment was quiet while AJ got ready for her day Monday morning. She went to the bookshelf and picked up the picture of Bree Logan had held yesterday. How one person could look so much like both of her parents was a mystery.

She kissed the frame. “I miss you, baby girl.” Grief was a strange thing. Some days felt impossible, other days were numb. Then, on occasion, AJ felt normal. Today seemed somewhere between normal and numb.

Setting the frame back on the shelf, she went to the kitchen. Coffee would help her wake up. Of course, in the process of waking up she may fall into the impossible. Waking up to the reality that she needed to pursue her husband and mend that relationship made her feel overwhelmed more often than not lately.

She popped a K-Cup into the coffeemaker and let it gurgle.