As the door shut behind them, the apartment fell into silence.
Logan looked at the wall clock. 4:00 AM.
Jean moved slowly, crossing the room to stand by the window, her silhouette outlined by the faint city glow outside. Logan didn't say anything at first, just watched her.
The quiet between them was no longer just awkward… It was heavy. Like something unspoken lingered in the air, thick with history, bitterness, and something else… anticipation.
"Are you finally going to tell me what's really going on?" Logan asked quietly.
Jean didn't turn around. "You wouldn't understand."
"I'm not asking to understand," he said. "I'm asking because I need to know what I'm walking into."
She glanced over her shoulder at him, the faintest flicker of vulnerability crossing her features before she buried it again.
"I already told you," she said. "This marriage… It's not about love. It's war. And I don't want anyone else bleeding because of me."
