Arise
Gone

That night, things had changed between us without even knowing it. The following morning had been different. I could feel the barrier, and it was one I couldn’t break down. Our conversations were clipped and concise. Johnson had started asking for more of my time at the office, and I obliged. Logan was never home anyways. He avoided me now.

It had been a couple weeks since that night. The night I pushed him too far. Too far and he fell. We hadn’t been the same since. He no longer smiled around me. When we were out in public everything looked fine, but any moment we were alone felt like we were apart. He kept up with appearances. But when he smiled, it was never genuine. When he joked, the light never reached his eyes. When he laughed, it was forced.

I started to loath the thought of being near him in fear of the unspoken words between us. Even in public, we would arrive together but go our separate ways. We still slept in the same room, the same bed, but it wasn’t the same. There was a space. A gap, like in our relationship.

It grew quiet. He became quiet. I became quiet. We stopped bothering to even look at each other. I was walking on eggshells around him, but he didn’t seem to mind. Guilt was eating me alive. I did this. This was my fault. But it was also his fault. We both knew he was hiding something—something he didn’t want anyone to know. And I wanted to talk to him. To hear every little thing that was going on in his mind, but whenever I would open my mouth, nothing came out. He had already seemed to think I had done enough. Too much, in fact.

I just wanted to help. Didn’t he trust me? Did I trust him?

Trust, I believed, was earned not given, but I had blindly given him my trust when I first came to the pack. I trusted him. I trusted him to tell me the truth whenever he was ready. I had hope he would let me in one way or another. But that hope started to dwindle down when I noticed him leave in the middle of the night.

He left every night. The times were different, but he always left. His phone would vibrate, and he would cautiously get up and go to wherever that phone call required him to go. He would come back just before he had to meet with Caleb. At first, I thought it was normal: he had to use the bathroom or drink water. But, he would be gone for hours at a time.

I had caught him last week; the night of his birthday. I had planned a candlelit dinner and bought a birthday cake for him. I stayed home instead of going to work. I waited all night for him to come. By the time he arrived, it was passed midnight, and he was drunk.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Where have you been? I called and texted you a million times!”

He dropped the keys on the table and shrugged. “Relax. I was out with Seb, Mack, and Fridge.”

“Seb, Mack, and Fridge were on patrol, I checked. Tell me the truth.”

“I am telling the truth.” He stretched out the last word he said and stumbled to the living room. When he passed me, the scent of alcohol burned my nostrils. My face scrunched at the smell.

“You reek of alcohol.”

He groaned, irritated. “Fine. I went to Postcards.”

“By yourself?”

“With some friends. You wouldn’t know them; they’re from another pack.” This had been the most he had spoken to me in days, and it was because he was drunk. These days it seemed like all he did was drink.

The conversation went south from there. He started shouting and I started shouting.

“For once in your life, could you just be honest with me!”

“For once in your life, could you just leave me the hell alone!”

More shouting led to him sleeping in the guest room.

It was never the same after that. I couldn’t trust him anymore.

I caught Logan just as he was about to leave. He knew I was there, I could tell by the way his shoulders tensed. He was sitting at the kitchen table gripping a glass of bourbon enough to shatter it, but he was holding it in. He was always holding back. Always keeping something from me.

I tied the robe I was wearing tighter and slowly approached him. I sat in the chair across from his and folded my arms over the table and stared at him. He stared right back at me in silence. A deafening silence.

The tension was thick. I felt it and he did too. My eyes drifted to the duffle bag on the chair beside him. I morphed my expression into a calm one as my heart faltered. Why was he doing this?

“Going somewhere?” I asked quietly.

He took another sip from his glass and swirled his drink around. I could see remnants of something in it. Wolfsbane. He used it often now to get himself drunk. “Go back to bed.”

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” My jaw tightened. I was so sick and tired of this answer. An answer of nothing. He was sick and tired of saying the same thing. I could see it on his face. He was exhausted. His eyes were now always dark and sunken in. I no longer saw his dimple or his smile. His beard grew thicker and his hair was getting longer. Whatever was bothering him, was getting worse.

“Why are you being like this, Logan?” I couldn’t stand seeing him like this. He was a shell.

“I can’t tell you.” He abruptly stood up, putting the cup in the sink and the bourbon in the cabinet. He tried reaching for the duffle bag, but I blocked his path. He sighed deeply, running his hand through hair and pulling at the ends. Exhaustion and anger. That was what was fueling him. I delicately placed my hands on his face, urging him to look at me. I scan his face, looking for a slip of something—anything. No indication. I rubbed the pads of my thumbs over his tired eyes. He subconsciously leaned forward resting his forehead against mine, eyes closed, holding my wrists.

I whispered as delicately as possible. “I just want to know what’s going on in your head. Let me in. Let me help you.”

He hopelessly gazed at me. His eyes glazed and tired.

He laughed, but it sounded forced. “I don’t need your help.”

I searched for a something, anything, any sort of hint in his eyes, but they were blank and deadly. My tongue darted licking my dry lips, bringing in his eyes to them. He leaned down but tilted his head to the side hesitantly. I met his gaze for a long time, sliding my hands down his neck to his chest. His hands moved to rest on my waist. I tilted my chin forward and closed my eyes, expecting him to lean in. But instead, reached behind me and grabbed the duffle bag. I winced and pain shot through my heart. I can’t believe I had fallen for that.

“Don’t do this, Logan.” Tears threatened to fall and my throat begins to clog up. I sniffled, running my hand over my hair. “Please, don’t leave. Don’t leave me.” He looked at me, void of emotion. An expression he had perfected in the last couple weeks.

“Go to back to bed, Rosetta.” His pet name for me was just a distant memory now. He stopped calling me Doll weeks ago.

“I miss you. You’ve been so distant and cold to me for months. I can’t bear it anymore.” Winter was well under way. I stepped closer to him until I was within arm’s reach. It was his decision to either step closer or away from me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I let out a cry of pain. “You’re breaking my heart.” I was numb. The heartache made me numb.

He aggressively pushed his fingers through his long brown hair. With the lights off, and only the porch light on, his hair was black. He groaned and hitched up the duffel bag. “Why can’t you leave me alone.”

I tucked my hair behind my ears and sniffled. “Because I love you. Whatever it is you can tell me. We can figure it out together.”

He growled, and in his anger, he punched the wall behind him. I shrieked and stepped back. Tears falling freely and hard. He rubbed his eyes and placed his forehead against the wall. Breathing heavily, I shuffled forward. His whole body was shaking. My heart was beating with fright and pain. I could hear it with each step I took towards him.

My voice barely made a noise when I asked, “what was this then?” I raised my voice. “Was this all just some sort of play for you? Get me to fall in love with you and then run away behind everyone’s back?” He didn’t move an inch.

He could hear my heart quicken. He could scent my fear. He could see the pain and anger plastered on my face. He stood there in silence. Whether he was thinking about it or pretending to, I didn’t know. Anger welled in my blood. I was exhausted and heartbroken. I had been begging him for months to let me in. If I couldn’t help him, he had to help himself. I had more self-respect to make a fool out of myself. How was I to save someone who didn’t want to be saved?

“Fine. Go.” White anger flashed through me. He froze and turned to my voice. “Run from your problems. But know that I will not be here when you come back.” I had never seen his eyes hold up such pain and hatred at once. But hopelessness was clear in his dull eyes. It was the most emotion I had seen come out of him in weeks. His clenched his jaw and picked up his duffle bag aggressively. Without so much as another word, he walked away from, slamming the door shut behind him.

A buzzing erupted in my head and made me dizzy. Everything began to spin. I screamed in frustration before falling to my knees crying. I had given him my everything. I had trusted him. I had loved him. It was all for nothing. Love made me weak. Love blinded me. Love had broken my heart.

He lied to him. Day in and day out he kept secrets from me. From the moment I came here, it had been one lie after another. And I had so foolishly trusted him and hoped he trusted me too. I had hoped that he would let me in and tell me what was going on, but he didn’t. He lied to me.

I didn’t know how long it was before Val and Caleb came into the house. They found me in hysterics on the floor against the kitchen table. Val engulfed me, placing her chin over my head and rubbing my arm.

In a quiet tone, my throat was raw when I said, “You’re too late. He’s gone.”

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