Filed to story: Sedona Preston and Logan Hayes Book PDF Free
After tucking him in, I returned downstairs to find Catherine waiting in the living room, her purse in hand.
“I should go,” she said. “Give you some space to process everything. I don’t think I should sleep over, it will look improper.”
“You don’t have to rush off.”
“I think I do.” She smiled. “Logan, I need to say something, and I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”
I tensed. “What?”
“I think maybe… maybe Sedona has a point. But maybe I have been around too much. Maybe my presence in your life has made her feel threatened, unwanted.”
“That’s not your fault-“
“I know. But it’s still happening.’
After Catherine left, I poured myself a scotch and collapsed onto the couch. The house was too quiet, the silence was loud, even when Sedona and I weren’t talking, I could hear her moving around, making some background noises, doing mundane thi9ngs., it was never quiet with her around and I had gotten used to
But now there was nothing.
I pulled out my phone and stared at my conversation with Sedona. The last message was my accusation of childishness, met with her cold response about being with Cameron. Nothing since then.
She was waiting for me to apologize, probably. Waiting for me to beg her to come home so she could feel important and use this against me, she went all this far, probably spying and seeing that I took Catherine to the hospital, then hiring a hot gigolo and showing up, pretending to be sick and saying all that just to extract promises and concessions from me.
Well, I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to reward her manipulative behavior with attention and apologies.
The scotch burned going down, but it did nothing to quiet the voice in the back of my mind. The voice that whispered that maybe, just maybe, I’d made a terrible mistake. That maybe Sedona wasn’t coming back. That maybe I’d pushed her top far, dismissed her too many times, and now I was going to lose her for good.
But no. No, I was Logan Hayes. People didn’t leave me. Sedona had nowhere else to go, no one else who could give her what I could. She’d realize that soon enough.
I finished the scotch and headed upstairs to bed. The bedroom felt huge without Sedona’s presence. I lay down on my side of the bed, staring at her empty pillow.
Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow I’d text her, tell her she’d made her point, that it was time to come home and discuss things like adults. She’d probably jump at the chance, relieved that I was offering her an out.
Tomorrow, everything would go back to normal.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but all I could see was Cameron’s arm around Sedona’s waist, and the cold, final way she’d looked at me when she’d said she was done.
The next morning started badly and got progressively worse.
I woke up to Nick standing beside my bed, holding his stomach and looking miserable. “Dad, my tummy hurts.”
I groaned and checked my phone-5:47 AM. “What kind of hurt, buddy?”
“Like it needs to throw up.”
Great. I stumbled out of bed and helped Nick to the bathroom, where he promptly vomited up what looked like most of last night’s dinner. I held his hair back and tried to remember what Sedona usually did in this kind of situations.
Ginger ale. She always gave him ginger ale and crackers.
Except I had no idea if we had ginger ale, or where she kept the crackers, or what else she did to make Nick feel better when he was sick.
After Nick finished being sick, I got him settled on the couch with a bowl nearby, incase his stomach acted up later and I placed a damp washcloth on his forehead. It was another thing that I had seen Sedona do countless times. Then I called the nanny and asked her to come in early today.
“Of course, Mr. Hayes. Is everything alright?”
“Nick’s sick. I have an important meeting this morning that I can’t miss.” The meeting was with future potential investors from Singapore and this meeting had been, scheduled weeks ago even before the disney trip. Rescheduling would look unprofessional.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
While waiting for the nanny, I tried to get ready for the day, I opened my closet to grab my suit and paused, noticing something I’d never paid attention to before.
Small fabric labels were sewn into the inside of every piece of clothing I owned. Not the regular manufacturer labels, but handmade ones, each carefully stitched in with tiny, precise stitches.
I pulled out a navy suit jacket and examined the label more closely. In Sedona’s neat handwriting, it read: “100% wool. Dry clean only. Best for formal meetings or galas. Pairs well with the gray tie with blue pinstripes.” Below the text was a tiny doodle-a stick figure man in a suit giving a thumbs up.
Logan’s POV
I reached for another jacket, wanting to see more of this. How had I never noticed this before? They didn’t look new, which meant I hadn’t been observing things for a while.
That thought did not sit well with me, I read her other note “Wool-cashmere blend. Can be worn business casual with dark jeans. Great for client dinners. Match with the burgundy pocket square for extra polish.” Another doodle, this time a little heart.
Every single item in my closet had been labeled like this. Shirts, pants, ties, even my belts. Each one noting fabric type, washing instructions, appropriate occasions, styling suggestions. All these labels must have taken hours for her to do, seated by the window, going through them one by one, and I hadn’t even noticed they existed.
I found myself pulling out piece after piece, reading the labels, looking at the little doodles Sedona had added. Some were funny-a tie labeled “Power tie. Makes you look 10% more intimidating. Use wisely” with a drawing of a tiny dragon.
Some were practical-“This shirt runs small after washing. Size up when replacing.” Some were sweet
“You wore this on our first anniversary. You looked so handsome. Love, S.”
I felt something tighten in my chest, an uncomfortable mixture of guilt and… something else that seemed to be hurting me the more I focused on it. Something didn’t want to examine too closely.
This was the kind of thing Sedona did. She was the type of person to do these kind of quiet, invisible labor that made my life run smoothly without me ever having to think about it.
I’d taken it for granted, assumed it was just what wives did for their husbands and wasn’t a big deal, never considering the time and thought and care that went into it.
I grabbed the suit she’d recommended for formal meetings and got dressed, trying not to look at the label that read “You’ve got this! You’re going to be amazing today!” with a little star drawn beside it.
Stop being sentimental, I told myself firmly. This doesn’t change anything. She still left. She still abandoned Nick. A few cute labels don’t make up for that. It didn’t mean anything, rather it showed that she did not have anything worthwhile to do with her time, unlike Catherine who was being scouted by international scouts daily.
But despite what I fed myself as excuses the labels stayed in my mind all through breakfast, all through the nanny’s arrival, all through my rushed explanation of Nick’s symptoms and where to find the medicine and-
“Mr. Hayes,” she interrupted gently. “I know where everything is. Mrs. Hayes showed me months ago, in case of emergency. She was very thorough.”
Of course she was. Of course Sedona had thought of this, had prepared for every contingency, had made sure Nick would be taken care of even if she couldn’t be there.
