Page 26 of Until Tomorrow (Love Doesn’t Cure All: The Ashwood Duet #1)

Logan

I should’ve gone to work, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have the energy to. Emotional energy? Physical energy? I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was that I was drained and needed a break.

I also had a desperate need to get our home back to normal and then some.

While I couldn’t infuse the walls of every room with all the things that were Eva, I could work on a plan for that.

I tried to keep a list of the different ways we could change the house to reflect her, but the more I did, the more I realized…

I didn’t know Eva. I didn’t know what she liked anymore.

At one point, she’d been a die-hard music buff—old records and band t-shirts had been her thing. But now? Did she even listen to rock music anymore? There was no sign of that part of her anymore.

It was the same with art. Our first house had been covered in charcoal sketches and eclectic art she collected from local artists.

She’d rotated art around the house, there had been sketchbooks and charcoal chunks all over the place, and every room had inspired something different.

Everything here was bland and meant to coordinate with the furniture—meant to appeal to our rare guests rather than express my wife’s creative phases.

Somehow, the wild and vibrant girl who bent for no one had turned into a tamed and sophisticated woman who was a carbon copy of the women in the social circles we inhabited. Had I let that happen? Encouraged it? Pushed her to it? How had I completely lost sight of my wife?

Whi le she showered and got ready for the day, I hyper-focused on those thoughts.

I replayed the years in my head as I tried to figure out when she’d changed so much—when she’d lost herself.

While I did, I cleaned the living room for her, putting the bedding in the wash and putting the furniture back.

The least I could do was give her some semblance of normal.

All the chaos was my fault, to begin with.

When I heard the hair dryer turn on, I started breakfast. Neither of us was an exceptional cook, but I did enjoy making breakfast. It wasn’t five-star restaurant quality, but spinach and mushroom omelets were better than cereal straight out of a box.

I felt my heart stutter in my chest as she came out of the bedroom.

Dark hair, soft and blown out, a long skirt swishing around her ankles, and a happy smile. God, she was stunning.

“You didn’t have to cook,” Eva said, sliding onto a stool at the island. “We could’ve gone out to eat.”

“I like cooking for you,” I replied. I set her plate in front of her and joined her with one for me. “Besides, I don’t want to get dressed to go out for breakfast.”

“That’s fair.” She moaned as she took a bite, and the sound went straight to my dick. “Forget eating out, this is amazing.”

“Good.” I took a bite. It was mediocre at best, but I was happy she enjoyed it. “I can’t promise I’ll cook lunch or dinner, but we’ll see where we’re at when the time comes.”

I truly had no idea what we were doing today. For the first time in my life, I was winging my day. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t have the mental capacity for anything else. The weight of everything was heavy.

“So,” Eva began as she set her fork down, “the app I think you and I should use is called Tumble .”

I faltered. The last thing I was thinking about was dating apps and all that shit. I knew I needed to, considering everything that had happened, but my brain hadn’t begun to formulate comprehensive thoughts on it.

“Oh, we’re jumping right into this,” I murmured. Setting my fork down, I sighed as I faced her.

“The only way you’ll figure this out, Logan, is if you actually go out and do the thing,” she said. “I know it’s scary, and it’s a big change, but I know you need to do this.”

“I know. I just…” I blew out a slow breath. I just what? Didn’t know how to do this? Wasn’t sure I could? I’d had divorce papers drawn up for this literal reason. “No, you’re right. I know you’re right.”

“ Hey.” She swiveled on the stool to face me. Her hands comfortably rested on my thighs as she watched me closely. “All of this… it makes you anxious, doesn’t it?”

God, I loved this woman and the importance she put on helping me with my anxiety.

Especially considering I didn’t understand it.

It hadn’t been a thing for me growing up, but the older I got and the more hectic life became, the worse it was.

I didn’t want to see anyone about it, so I strong-armed my way through anxiety attacks, but Eva saw the worst of it.

Hell, even Elliot didn’t see this part of me.

“It’s a really big life change, Eva. I don’t…” I struggled to figure out the words to say while my heart kicked up in my chest. “I’m thirty-eight. I just… the idea of dating in general at this point is off-putting, but dating men? I don’t know… it’s…”

“Scary? Anxiety-inducing? Makes you want to crawl into a pile of blankets and never come out?”

“Something like that.” I chuckled. “I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Whatever happens, Logan, you have me,” Eva told me quietly. “I’ll always be here. I mean that. It’s scary and stressful and new, but you’re not doing it alone.”

But was I better off doing this alone? I studied the conviction in my sweet wife’s face. She said the words, and I wanted to believe her, but that stupid voice in the back of my head nagged me about it. And sometimes, that stupid voice won out.

“Do you really want to be a part of all of this, honey?” I asked her quietly. “No one would blame you if you didn’t—I wouldn’t. You didn’t sign up for—”

“I signed up for everything. I want to be a part of your everything, Logan,” she interrupted, her tone gentle and not at all condescending.

She touched the day-old scruff on my face and brushed her fingers along my jawline.

Her touch was simple and comforting. “I know it’s easy to let the anxious thoughts win, but please…

hear my words, okay? And trust me. Not the thoughts.

I can’t make you do anything, sweetheart, so if you tell me you don’t want to do this… we won’t.”

“No.” I leaned into her palm as I sighed. “I know enough logically to know that’d be the anxiety talking.”

“Good.” She kissed me once. “I’m not throwing you out onto the street with a date me sign. I promise.”

“Thank fuck,” I grumbled.

“ I thought we could work on building your profile today on Tumble . It’s a small start. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” I agreed. And despite it all, I closed my eyes and sank into the comfort of her hand on my face for just another moment.

She let me—she always let me. She did a damn good job taking care of me.

Did I return the favor? Was I doing my part as her husband?

My glaring house issues told me I wasn’t.

As I opened my eyes, I asked, “And your profile?”

“Oh, I have six versions drafted already,” Eva said ever so flippantly, and I laughed. How very Eva. “I just have to decide what works best for me. But today is about you.”

“So, what are you looking for in a man?” Eva’s question made me freeze—a deer in headlights.

We sat in bed with snacks and drinks and some crime show going on in the background while I worked my way through filling out the app profile.

The damn thing was much harder to figure out than I thought it’d be.

I also now understood why Eva had six possible versions. “Do you have a type?”

“I…” I managed to get a single word out—a vowel really. I didn’t have a clue what my type was or whatnot.

“Okay… not sure yet,” she said. “That’s okay. They have a curious and learning option on here. That’ll be good for you. Do you know what you look for in dating?”

“You?” I replied dumbly. Those pretty eyes narrowed. She was having none of my shit. “I’ve only ever dated you, honey. And we didn’t even date… we just sort of… well, you punched me in the face, and I decided to stick with that.”

“Should I put punching you in the face as your standard of dating?” she asked.

“Good God, please don’t.”

“Well,” she clicked her tongue, “what kind of human do you want to be around? You have to have some things you’re not looking for. Like if… an eighteen-year-old messaged you—”

“No,” I cut her off quickly, practically shuddering at the thought. “Absolutely not. That’s way too young. No one under thirty. Though thirty might be pushing it. Am I too old for the dating game at this point?”

“ No, sweetheart, you’re not. But you just might be called Daddy depending on how young you pick.”

Her hushed giggles made me look at her. When I did, she covered her face.

“You find this funny, don’t you?”

“I just can’t get the picture out of my head of some eighteen-year-old kid calling you Daddy. The talking to you’d give him!” She broke down laughing harder, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“My dating profile is so specific,” I said dryly. “Must not punch me in the face on the first date, and must not call me daddy.”

Eva dragged the pillow over her face, the sound of her laughter increasing until she was wheezing. I chuckled as I grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“I love that sound,” I continued when she peeked out at me with a grin. That brilliant smile. I absolutely adored it.

“You look so good on paper, sweetheart,” she teased but frowned. “Oh, God… that’s a dated reference.”

“Yes, it is.” I nodded. She tossed the pillow back in its spot and rolled on her side to face me.

“So… age?”

“Let’s stick with thirty to fifty.”

“ Oh . You could end up with a silver fox,” she said.

“Give it five more years, and I’ll be the silver fox,” I muttered.

“Oh, stop that.” She fluffed the hair at my temple. “I love your grays… all three of them.”

“Three counts,” I told her. Her fingers trailed down my cheek and lingered on my chin. She wouldn’t say it, but I knew she wanted me to keep the beard. I’d never been a beard guy. Granted, I never thought I was a man attracted to other men so who fucking knew. Maybe I was a beard guy.

“What else?” Eva asked.

“Is it bad form to be like… please, have a job and don’t be a criminal?” I replied .

“I mean, there are ways to figure out the first one when you’re talking to them.”

“I have to figure out how to hide my identity on this thing. I can’t have clients seeing that. Or anyone in my office.”

Not that I worried too much about the latter.

“I have ten pictures cropped for you to pick from,” she said. “I’ve seen quite a few profiles do that with someone about discretion for the sake of their job.”

“Discretion for the sake of my job,” I repeated quietly. The words hit deeper than expected—some kind of profound neon light that I was actually making a dating profile. “I’m really doing this, aren’t I?”

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered. “A lot of people wouldn’t. Not if they were where you are. It’s admirable, Logan.”

“I think admirable is stretching it.”

“Stop that,” Eva chastised. “It’s a hard thing to realize there are parts of your life that are lacking and then doing something about it instead of settling.

A lot of people don’t have that kind of courage—and I don’t mean just in a situation like yours.

How many people won’t take the risk because they’re afraid they’ll fall?

That job, that move, that breakup… whatever it is.

A lot of people just settle because it’s safe. ”

“Yeah,” I replied quietly. She wasn’t wrong. How long had I played things safe? I was good at my job, but did I love it? Not particularly. It guaranteed I made good money to support both of us.

“So, what you’re doing… it’s admirable, Logan.”

“Are you scared?” I asked, curious as to what she was thinking about everything. She was incredibly meticulous about her process but almost detached.

“I don’t know if I’m scared per se,” Eva admitted.

“But I’m nervous. I like Tumble because it lets me put down that I’m looking for something more platonic than sexual.

I don’t care about sex. If it happens… then okay, but I’m not looking for it.

I just want to meet someone who gets me.

And I put that I’m interested in all genders.

I don’t know if that will help me any. I don’t want to do one of those big meet-up apps. I’m not cut out for big crowds.”

She wasn’t. Eva was great at close, personal connections in individual relationships. She kept everyone else at arm’s length when groups were involved.

“So, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing, and that makes me nervous. I just… want more than you and Elliot in my life.”

“I think it’ll be okay,” I said. “You’re an incredible person, Eva. And anyone who can’t see that isn’t worth your time.”

Tha nk God my wife had no problem stomping on toes when she needed to. I would’ve worried so much more about her putting herself out there if she was so easily swayed by others.

“I think…” Her teeth sank into her lower lip as her voice trailed off like she wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to say. Reaching between us, I took her hand and squeezed. “I think… I think I want to go to college.”

My eyes widened. That wasn’t something I’d expected. Eva had gone through half a semester of college before quitting because it wasn’t for her. She wanted a job to pay the bills, and that was it.

“Don’t quote me on that,” she rushed to say before I could reply. “It’s just a thought. I have a lot of thoughts. I don’t know what’s going to pan out and what won’t right now. I’m very… all over the place.”

“That’s okay. I’m here for all of it.”

“I know.” She smiled as I leaned in to kiss her. “I know you’re stressed out about the changes, but are you looking forward to any of this at all?”

“I think once I feel like I’m not going to throw up from the anxiety, I’ll look forward to it more.

” I sighed. Damn anxiety. “I know I’m in complete control here, and I think that makes it easier.

I don’t know if excited is the right word for how I feel, but I’m not running the other way, either, so that’s a plus.

I think right now… I think I just… I think I just need to get over the initial feelings before I can feel anything else. ”

“We’ve got this,” Eva promised.

“We’ve got this.”