More Than A Favor

Chapter 2

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The soft rustle of paper caught Logan‘ attention. He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine. I didn’t need a mirror to know how grim my expression was.

“You look pale,” he said, frowning slightly. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Without answering, I walked over to his desk, my fingers tightening around the marriage license application in my hand. Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I finally spoke. “If you don’t want to marry me, I can tell your mom myself.”

His frown deepened. He knew I’d overheard everything.

My voice cracked as I continued, “I never thought I’d end up being a burden

to you, Logan-”

“Elaine,” he cut in, his tone calm but firm. “To everyone else, we’re already like a married couple.”

I froze. Was that why? Because it looked right to everyone else?

I wanted him to marry me because he loved me, not because it was

convenient.

Logan capped the pen in his hand with a quiet click, his gaze dropping to the crumpled application form I was holding. “We’ll register next Wednesday,” he said, the words flat, emotionless.

It was what I thought I wanted to hear. But instead of relief, I felt a heavy ache deep in my chest.

I shook my head slightly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to force yourself. I’m not some charity case.”

“Elaine Hart.” His voice turned sharp.

I flinched and looked up, meeting his impatient gaze.

his hand. “Give it to me.”

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didn’t move. The air between us grew tense,

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sighed, stood, and crossed the short distance between us. His tall frame towered over me as he exhaled softly, his frustration tempered with a strange

it really just

know how men are,” he added, his tone almost dismissive. “Prideful. Stupid.”

grip was firm yet strangely comforting. Slowly, he pried the document from my grasp. “Don’t let something

a desk drawer. Then, grabbing his coat, he added,

lot lately–leaving without explanation,

could pass me, I spoke, my voice cutting through

He stopped.

trembling slightly but

might actually answer. Then, a faint

ten years ago. I had just arrived at the Mercer estate, a scared girl of fourteen, and he had ruffled my hair and called me “kid.” That smile had felt like sunlight breaking through the

didn’t even know

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< Chapter 2

that same smile still had

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reached out, his large hand resting lightly on my head, his fingers ruffling my hair in

go across the city to get you roasted pears when you’re sick? Or buy you your favorite roses

brushing lightly against my skin. “And why

comforted me. They should’ve been enough.

But they weren’t.

let it go this time. “Do you like me