More Than A Favor (Elaine and Logan)

I couldn't stop thinking about the question all day. It lingered in the back of my mind, unanswered, gnawing at me. By the time Logan came to pick me up that afternoon, I still didn't know what I wanted to do.

And yet, I followed him anyway. Habit was a terrifying thing. Ten years was all it took to tether me to this routine-him, the Mercer Estate, and the unspoken understanding that I would always be there. "Why are you so quiet?" he asked, glancing at me as he drove. He must have noticed my mood.

I hesitated, my fingers fidgeting with the strap of my bag. Finally, I worked up the courage to say, "Logan, maybe we should-"

Before I could finish, his phone rang.

The car display lit up with an unlisted number. I saw his grip tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening.

It wasn't like him to look nervous.

I turned to study his face, but his expression was unreadable. Without a word, he tapped the screen, switching the call to Bluetooth. "Hello.... Yeah, I'm on my way."

The call was brief, but his voice was clipped, his tone unnaturally tense.

When it ended, he glanced at me, his jaw tight. "Elaine, something urgent came up. I can't take you home."

I knew what he was going to say before he said it. It wasn't the first time. Still, foolishly, I'd hoped he'd at least take me back before running off.

My chest ached, but I forced myself to keep my voice steady. "Is something wrong?"

He didn't answer. Instead, his gaze shifted to the road ahead as he pulled into a temporary parking spot. "Get off here and grab a taxi," he said, his tone brisk.

I stared at him, searching for some kind of explanation, but he offered none. He didn't even bother to lie.

What could I say to that? Begging for answers would only humiliate me further.

"Text me when you get home," he added, already reaching for the gearshift.

I nodded stiffly, clutching my backpack as I climbed out of the car.

The cool air hit my face as I stood on the sidewalk, watching his car merge back into traffic. He didn't look back.

I already knew. From the call to his unwillingness to explain, I could feel it-something wasn't right. But I didn't ask. I didn't want to peel back the thin, fragile layer of denial that kept me sane.

"Be careful on your way home," he called out the window before speeding off.

I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty stretch of road where his car had disappeared. My chest felt hollow, my feet rooted to the spot.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Nora, my best friend.

"Elaine, where are you? Want to grab dinner?"

Nora was a gynecologist, sharp-tongued and brilliant. She never minced words, which was exactly what I needed right now.

"Sure," I said without hesitation.

Nora sounded surprised. "Wow, you didn't even check with Logan first? Did the sun rise in the west today?"

I managed a dry laugh, but her words hit a little too close to home. For years, I'd lived as if my entire life revolved around Logan. Every plan, every decision-always prefaced with, "Let me check with him first." "Where are you right now?" I asked, changing the subject.

She rattled off an address, and I hailed a taxi to meet her.

The moment she saw me, Nora's sharp eyes narrowed. "What happened? Did you and Mr. Perfect have a fight?"

She was one of the few people I could confide in, so I told her everything.

When I finished, her expression darkened. "Men are the worst," she muttered, stirring her drink with unnecessary force. "He thinks you're boring? Insipid? As if he's some kind of prize. Has he even slept with you?" Her bluntness made my cheeks burn. I shook my head, embarrassed.

Nora rolled her eyes. "Exactly. What a jerk. If he spent ten years with you and hasn't even tried, it's not respect, Elaine. It's disinterest."

Her words stung because they were true.

There had been moments-like the time I'd gotten drunk and kissed him. But instead of kissing me back, he'd gently pulled away and sent me to bed. At the time, I thought it was because he respected me, that he didn't want to take advantage of me. But now, I realized it was because he didn't want me.noveldrama

Wasn't there a saying? That if a man loved a woman, he'd want her. He'd desire her.

Logan had never shown that kind of desire. Not once.

"I think," I said slowly, my voice trembling, "I want to give up."

Nora's eyes softened. She reached across the table and clinked her glass against mine. "Good. You deserve better. There are plenty of guys out there, Elaine. With your looks, you could have anyone."

She wasn't wrong. At eighteen, I'd won a beauty pageant. There had been offers for modeling, even acting. If Logan hadn't stopped me, I might have had a career in the spotlight.

Over the years, countless men had tried to win me over. But I had eyes for only one.

And he didn't want me.

The thought made my throat tighten. I pushed back my chair and mumbled an excuse, hurrying to the restroom before Nora could see the tears threatening to spill.

I was so distracted I didn't notice the man stepping out of the restroom until it was too late. We collided, and I stumbled, knocking him to the ground.

"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, reaching out to help him up.

But before I could, he shrieked, "Help! Someone's trying to molest me!"

His voice rang through the hallway, loud and panicked. My jaw dropped. What just happened?