Logan didn't hesitate.
He nodded once and slipped under the blanket beside her, careful not to touch unless she asked for it. He just laid there… watching her.
Jean turned toward him, her head resting near his chest. She didn't say anything more. She didn't need to.
And when Logan wrapped an arm gently around her shoulders, she didn't flinch this time.
She exhaled.
Safe.
Not healed, not yet. But for the first time in years, she allowed herself to be held.
And Logan held her like she was glass… fragile but precious.
That night, there were no fireworks. No passion. No heat.
Just two broken people, holding on to each other in the quiet darkness.
And somehow, that meant more.
____________________________
The first rays of sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden patterns across the room. But inside the bedroom, time felt like it had slowed to a crawl.
Logan hadn't slept.
