As usual, Carlos was early. He had texted Logan that it was okay; he wanted to hear him out, and then he texted him the address of the little Italian restaurant.
He chose a window seat and watched the street absently. He made a mental list of things he was supposed to do as he waited.
•Buy a ticket to Kansas. Plane or bus?
•Visit mum and the twins
•Replace my duffel bag.
The bell above the door chimed and Logan walked in. He looked striking in a navy suit, his tan coat folded over his arm. His hair was freshly cut and his face was shaved. Nothing like the mess that had shown up at his apartment two days ago.
He waved and smiled, and Logan smiled back.
"Hey, you. Have you been here long?" Logan asked as he draped his coat over the back of his chair and sat down.
Carlos shook his head. "Fifteen minutes, give or take. You know, this gives me so much nostalgia," he said and forced a laugh.
"Jesus fucking--that is one thing I would pay to forget. I was so cringe with the whole Mafia boss act," Logan said loudly...nervously, and a few people turned to look at him.
The waitress, a young woman with blonde hair and enchanting green eyes placed two menus on their table and poured wine into their glasses. They ordered and chatted about their lives in the past few days as they waited for their food.
She came back a few minutes later with Fettuccine for Logan and seafood linguine for Carlos. Her smile was bright when she told them to call if they needed anything, and then she walked away.
They ate in silence. Carlos cleared his throat suddenly and Logan looked up at him.
"Are you sure you want to talk here? We could go somewhere more private," he said, and squeezed Logan's hand on the table.
Logan dragged the napkin lightly across his lips and nodded. He breathed in, clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut briefly. He opened them and smiled humorlessly at Carlos.
"There really is no way to say this, Carlos. So I'm just going to go ahead and say it," his voice was cold and emotionless. Just like the first time Carlos had talked to him.
"I lost my family all at the same time," he started, and sucked air into his lungs loudly.
Carlos pushed his food away and looked at Logan, putting his hands over his.
"Logan, you don't have to. I was stupid for asking...clearly this is something very sensitive for you."
Logan ignored him and pulled his hands away. He wanted to do it, if it was the way to save their relationship.
"You were probably still really small at the time, but it was all over the news." He pulled out his phone, typed something and handed it to Carlos.
Carlos' lips moved silently as he read the newspaper article, his brows furrowed with sadness.
"That's all bullshit. There was no accident, and they didn't die at the same time." Logan said painfully, startling Carlos. Carlos' hands were shaking, and he was clearly already overwhelmed. Logan wanted to stop. More for himself than Carlos.
"I watched the people I loved the most die, one by one. My dad was shot dead in front of me by one of his closest friends, your father, over a stupid business deal. I had stayed home from school that day because I was sick. It was late in the afternoon and they didn't know I was home. Suddenly, I heard yelling. I went downstairs to check and I pushed open the door just a crack. Nobody saw me, and they kept arguing. I don't know what it was about, but my dad threatened to buy Carlisle out of the company, " he paused and took a few steadying breaths.
"Suddenly, there was a gun, they struggled briefly and then my dad fell to the floor in a pool of blood. I ran to him and your father grabbed me and told me he would do the same to me if I ever opened my mouth to anyone."
Logan was visibly shaking now, and his forehead glistened with sweat.
"Logan, please...stop. I'm sorry for asking, don't put yourself through this." Carlos begged and grabbed his arm.
He jumped and barked a laugh. "I'm okay, I'm okay."
"My mum died a few days later from depression and a sedative overdose...I still remember how her cold lifeless hand slipped out of mine that night, and how her eyes glazed over. And my sister, she was already very...unstable. She had a history of self harm and many eating disorders. She was in France on vacation when everything happened, and she blamed herself. I was the one who found her, hanging from the ceiling fan in her room. Already dead. I was only twelve when I was shipped off to boarding school, and after, I moved in with my maternal grandparents."
Carlos' breaths shook as he looked at Logan. A tear rolled down his cheek and he dried it with a shaky hand.
"Don't cry, Carlos. I'm fine. See? I've gone to therapy, it doesn't hurt anymore," his voice remained calm and flat, just like it had been the entire time. He was sweating, and a lifeless smile was plastered across his lips.
Carlos settled the bill and helped him out of the restaurant.
"Hey, why don't we go on a stroll? We can get hot dogs and ice cream," he asked, because he didn't know what the fuck else to say. It wasn't that cold yet anyway, and Logan had a coat.
They walked almost four blocks in a comfortable silence, munching on hot dogs and eating ice cream before Logan groaned.
"What's the use of comfort food if you're working out anyway?"
He had calmed down, and Carlos laughed too loudly at his joke.
They walked back to Logan's car, and he leaned against the door and held Carlos' hands.
"Thank you for distracting me," he said and kissed Carlos' forehead.
"Thank you for trusting me enough to share. I feel like now I understand why you did what you did," Carlos replied and hugged him.
He buried his face on Logan's shoulder and let a tear slip. He was a real jerk for what he was going to do next.
Oops. He knows. What's he going to do next? Was this good therapy? What do you think the next and final chapter is going to be like?
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