UNBROKEN PROMISE

~39~ Unexpected Visitors

The house was eerily silent,  Logan pushed open the front door and stepped inside. The faint scent of the stew Oma had probably made for supper still lingered in the air, and the sight of the empty dining table hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd done it again.

Despite all his promises to her-and to himself-he'd skipped dinner. Again.

He rubbed the back of his neck, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. His arms were sore from mucking out stalls for hours, work that could've easily waited until morning. But it wasn't about the work. It was about avoiding the weight of his own failures, about drowning himself in labor to keep from facing the truth.

Logan climbed the stairs slowly, his boots creaking against the worn wood. He was tired, from the guilt he was carrying.

When he reached the landing, he stopped outside Oma's door, his hand resting on the knob. He hadn't meant to pause, but then he heard it.

The muffled sound of crying.

Logan's chest tightened as he stood there, his heart twisting at the sound. It was the second time he'd caught her crying like this, and he was sure it wasn't just twice. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep because of him? Because of the way he'd failed her time and again?

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the doorknob. For a brief moment, he thought about going inside, about saying something-anything-that might ease the ache he knew she was feeling. But then the doubt crept in. What could he even say that would make a difference? He'd already promised to do better, and look where that had gotten them.

His hand fell away from the door, and he turned, his boots dragging as he walked to his own room.

Logan shut the door behind him and leaned against it, his head tipping back as he stared at the ceiling. He could still hear the soft echoes of her sobs , a painful reminder of just how badly he was failing her.

He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees as he dragged his hands down his face. "Damn fool," he muttered under his breath.

This wasn't what he'd wanted when he married her. He'd wanted to keep her safe, to give her a home where she wouldn't have to feel alone or unwanted. But instead, he was the one making her feel that way. He was the one breaking her spirit, bit by bit, every time he let his own fears and insecurities get the better of him.

Logan leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts spiraling in a way he couldn't control.

He thought about her eyes, the way they softened when she looked at him even though he didn't deserve it. He thought about her quiet strength, the way she carried on with grace despite the mess he'd made of things.

Logan turned onto his side, his arm draped over his eyes as he let out a heavy sigh. He wanted to do better. He wanted to be the man she needed, the man she could rely on. But every time he tried, he seemed to find a way to mess it up.

And now, she was crying herself to sleep again, and he was lying here like a coward, too afraid to face her.

The thought made his stomach churn, and for a moment, he considered getting up, going to her room, and apologizing
.....truly apologizing. But the weight of his own guilt kept him rooted to the bed.

Instead, he lay there in the dark, his mind racing with all the things he wished he could say to her.

I'm sorry for failing you.
I'm sorry for being so damn stubborn.
I'm sorry for making you feel like you're not enough when you're more than enough.

But the words wouldn't come, and the silence stretched on, as heavy and suffocating as the guilt in his chest.

Eventually, exhaustion won out, and Logan's eyes drifted shut. But even in his sleep, the sound of her crying lingered, a painful reminder of the man he was and the man he so desperately wanted to be.