It was already past nine when the sound of the front door finally echoed through the house.

The house wasn’t dark. The living room lights were still on—a sign that someone had been waiting.

Logan had just taken off his jacket when his steps came to a halt.

You were sitting on the couch.

Silent.

No greeting, no smile like before. Just a look that was hard to read—a mix of exhaustion… and something deeper than that.

“Sorry I’m late,” Logan said quietly, trying to sound normal. “The meeting ran over.”

No response.

Only the ticking of the wall clock filled the silence.

Logan let out a small sigh and stepped closer. “Are the kids asleep?”

“They are.”

Short. Cold.

Another pause followed. Logan could feel it—that atmosphere. The one that always appeared whenever something was weighing on your mind.

And he knew… this wasn’t just about him being late.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, more carefully.

You didn’t answer right away. Your hand tightened slightly around the phone resting on your lap.

“Who was the meeting with?”

The question sounded simple.

But Logan knew—it wasn’t.

“Internal team. And a few people from a partner project,” he replied honestly… yet it still felt like he was being tested.

“A few people?” you repeated softly. “Who exactly?”

Logan paused—just a fraction of a second too long.

And that was enough.

Your expression changed.

“Why did you have to think before answering?” your voice rose slightly, still restrained. “If there’s nothing going on, you should be able to answer right away, right?”

“I just—”

“You just what, Logan?”

That tone. A tone that had never been there before.

Logan ran a hand over his face, trying to stay calm. “I’m tired, we don’t have to—”

“You met her again, didn’t you?”

The words fell just like that.

And for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Logan looked at you, his brows furrowing. “What?”

Your fingers moved. The phone in your hand lit up, and you raised the screen toward him.

“This came in earlier… on your work email.”

The account Logan had deliberately kept logged in on the home device—ever since he promised he wouldn’t hide anything anymore.

An email.

Clara Whitmore.

A name that was supposed to be over.

“I found this,” your voice trembled. “She works at the company that’s partnering with yours now.”

Logan didn’t answer right away.

Not because he wanted to lie.

But because he knew… this kind of silence had happened before.

In a different room. On the day everything came crashing down. When you stood in front of him with the same question—and he still needed time to answer, as if the truth was too heavy to say out loud.

And just like now… that small pause said everything.

“It’s just work,” he finally said, quietly.

“Just work?” you repeated, this time with a bitter laugh. “That’s what it was back then too, wasn’t it?”

The words hit exactly where they hurt the most.

It had always started as “just work.”

An office that brought them together too often. Conversations that started professional, then turned personal.

And small acts of attention that came when Logan was exhausted… and too far from home.

There was never a single big moment.

Just boundaries that slowly disappeared… until there were none left.

Logan closed his eyes for a moment.

“I never contacted her,” he added quickly. “I didn’t even know she’d be involved in the project until this afternoon.”

“But you still saw her.”

Not a question.

A statement.

Logan fell silent. And once again… his silence became the answer.

He took a slow breath, then looked at you.

“I know you won’t believe me right away,” he said, his voice low.

“And maybe… I don’t have the right to ask you to.”

A pause.

“But this time… it really is just work.”

His voice softened.

“I won’t make the same mistake again.”

The words were simple—but this time, they sounded less like a promise… and more like someone trying to convince himself.