Page 32 of Until Tomorrow (Love Doesn’t Cure All: The Ashwood Duet #1)

Logan

Drumming my fingers along my desk at home, I stared at the police report about the night’s events.

The words swam on the page, making it hard to focus.

Of all the outcomes I’d imagined for my wife dating, blackmailing my wife’s date into not pressing charges against the man who knocked him out wasn’t on that list. My brain struggled to process it.

These were usually the moments I reached out to Elliot or talked to Eva for clarity.

I couldn’t talk to Elliot for obvious reasons, and I had no desire to tell Eva that the reason the whole thing had been dropped was because I blackmailed Nathan Whittaker into dropping the charges.

The woman who ran the art gallery where he worked was a body-positive activist. Many of her most successful shows revolved around body positivity and celebration.

She would’ve been appalled at his comments, and, considering she was a client of my firm, it would’ve been easy to let her know.

Nathan kept his job, Rhett was released, and all it cost me was bail money and one night of sleep.

My wife deserved better. That was the fact I couldn’t handle about this polyamory thing.

With Eva’s history, I hated seeing her get hurt.

But I couldn’t protect her. I trusted her, even if I didn’t trust them.

I debated whether that meant we shouldn’t be pursuing this.

The reality was that if she found someone or even multiple someones who made her happy, I wanted that for her.

I just genuinely hated how the road to those people was paved with assholes like Nathan Whittaker.

Unable to fall asleep, I holed up in my office. I wanted to say I’d work, but curiosity got the better of me. Instead, I grabbed my phone and thumbed through Tumble .

Athletic and ready to mingle… no.

Only looking for Asian guys… no.

Married looking for a third… no.

Must love sports… maybe. I’d come back to that. It didn’t help that he didn’t say what sports must be loved.

Must love dogs, intelligent conversation, and be over thirty-five… sure, why not? Maybe that could work. Who knew?

It was guy after guy after guy. No, no, no, no, maybe, no, no, no. Finding a yes seemed like an impossibility. It didn’t help that I didn’t know what I wanted.

It also didn’t help that I was still furiously distracted by the night’s events. I struggled to sort it out. I needed someone to talk to—desperately. And while I honestly didn’t know if he’d be okay with it, I texted Loren.

When you have time tomorrow, I have a question for you.

LOREN : I have time now.

Ah, crap. I honestly didn’t think he’d reply. Not at this hour.

I’m sorry. I had no intention of waking you.

LOREN : I have a baby. I haven’t slept in weeks.

And that was one of many reasons I didn’t want children. I liked my schedule exactly how it was.

Sounds miserable.

LOREN : She’s 1000% worth it. Trust me. When you two have kids, you’ll see.

We don’t want kids, actually. I’m snipped, and she had her tubes tied years ago.

And now to wait for the dreaded response.

Most people acted like we were idiots who didn’t know what we wanted whenever we said we weren’t planning to have children.

They acted like we’d wake up one morning and completely change our mind—bewitched by the thought of tiny humans and suddenly have to have a football team of them. Wasn’t happening.

LOREN : Good for you, knowing what you want.

LOREN : So, what can I do for you?

When you and Katy first started this lifestyle, did you ever struggle with the idea of her dating?

LOREN : 1) Katy never dated outside of Avery. 2) that defeats the point of polyamory.

Right. I should’ve seen that coming. The whole reason they started was the same reason we were doing it.

LOREN : Jealousy is normal. It’s just a feeling. What you do with it is what matters.

LOREN : You can’t take that shit out on Eva.

I would never.

LOREN : If you’re uncomfortable with this lifestyle, that’s okay, but don’t offer false pretenses to her.

Okay, I wasn’t saying what I wanted to say the right way. Shit. I was a lawyer, for God’s sake. It shouldn’t have been this hard to figure out the right words.

That’s… I’m struggling to say this the right way.

The guy Eva went out with tonight believed he was entitled to sex with her and then insulted her size.

LOREN : I own a construction company with multiple sites right now going up. More than happy to offer a place to bury a body. No one will ever know.

I laughed. That wasn’t the response I expected, but I liked it. I also tossed it into the save-for-later bank in case someone else decided to be an asshole to my wife. It didn’t hurt to have proper resources.

Lol. Thank you, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary.

LOREN : That guy’s a dick.

He is. And it’s not that I’m struggling with her dating. She’s happier figuring herself out. I like that. But I hate the idea of her getting hurt. I’ve done everything I can to protect her. I’m struggling with the idea of her getting hurt every time she goes out there.

LOREN : Oh… that.

Yeah. That.

Text bubbles appeared and disappeared several times. That did nothing for my anxiety as I stared at them.

LOREN : I mean… I get it. I’d wrap Katy in bubble wrap and hide her in our house forever if it meant keeping her safe, but that’s not reasonable, is it?

No.

LOREN : The reality is, no matter what we do in life, getting hurt is just how the world works.

LOREN : No matter what you do, the potential for Eva to get hurt is there. You can’t protect her at all times.

I groaned and dropped my phone on my desk, so I could run my hands over my face. I hated that. The bubble wrap idea was so much more appealing. Eva had been through enough—something I had only added to recently. I didn’t want anyone else hurting her.

But it was an inevitable truth. No matter what I did, I’d never be able to fully protect her.

If you could hear the literal groan of frustration I just let out, you’d know how I feel about that t ruth.

LOREN : Lol. Come hang out with me and a fussy baby. Endless rounds of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star does wonders for the frustration.

LOREN : Or sanity. Not sure which. I’m making up words at this point.

Probably both.

LOREN : Definitely both.

LOREN : But seriously, if she’s happy and you’re comfortable with the arrangement, you just keep doing what you’re doing to take care of her. You’ll never keep her from getting hurt, but you can be there to support her through the aftermath.

Thank you.

LOREN : Anytime. I mean that. Especially late at night. Sophia is terrible at two-way conversations. It’s like talking to a drunk potato. She just drools and babbles. I love it, but I do love some adult conversation.

I chuckled. I glanced at the time. The likelihood that I’d ever be up at this hour to chat with him was slim, but I could make it a point to message him late at night when I was up doing work. Some was better than nothing.

I can’t promise I won’t just start sending bad jokes I find on the internet. Or memes. Sometimes that’s the best conversation I’ve got in me.

LOREN : All I’m hearing is an offer to help me build my bad dad joke armory. Bring it on, baby.

Good to know. Night.

LOREN : Night. Sleep for both of us.

“What are you smiling at?” Eva asked. I looked up to see her leaning against the door, eyes heavy with sleep and her robe wrapped tight around her.

“I was just talking to Loren for a few minutes,” I told her honestly. “Just trying to work through the events of the night and feelings.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“It is.”

“You two seem to get along well,” she pointed out with a yawn.

“We do. He’s a good guy. I like him.” I faltered at the notion. My brain fell into a mini-spiral. Did I like him? Like-like him? Did I just like him? I reeled those thoughts back in. This wasn’t the time to jump off that cliff. “What are you doing up, honey?”

“I wandered over to your side of the bed to cuddle you, and you were gone,” she said.

I smiled at that notion. God, I couldn’t remember the last time she and I cuddled in bed that wasn’t post-sex for a few minutes.

We each had our sides of the bed and had grown all too comfortable with that individual space.

Admittedly, I missed the warmth and softness of her body pressed against mine.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted. Plugging my phone in, I turned it on silent and left my desk. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

She groaned and said something that sounded like words, making me laugh. My Queen of Sleep. I felt her exhaustion in my soul. I relished the idea of a pile of blankets and cuddling her until the alarm went off… in two hours.