instead of me.
Logan had always delivered cruelty efficiently. He rarely wasted words, apologized, or hesitated.
Our conversations resembled his business meetings: he decided, and everyone else was expected to comply.
For years, I’d confused his certainty with confidence.
Eventually, I understood that confidence and believing you’re never wrong are very different things.
Three weeks earlier, Logan had ended our marriage.
We’d been drinking coffee at the kitchen island when he folded his hands and calmly announced:
“I’m starting over.”
No emotion, hesitation, or regret.
Just a clearly rehearsed declaration.
