Chapter 8: The Pull of the Past

Eva woke up to an empty bed. The sheets on Logan's side were perfectly smooth, as though he had never even been there. It had become a routine—waking up to a cold, empty space where her husband should be. She sighed and dragged herself out of bed, her thoughts immediately drifting to Logan and the increasing distance between them. Every day, it felt like they were growing further apart.

She padded barefoot into the kitchen, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of him before he left for the day, but it was quiet—too quiet. The only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant hum of the city far below. As Eva poured herself a cup of coffee, her phone buzzed on the counter. 

A text from Martha, her mother.

"How are you holding up? Call me when you can."

Eva sighed again. She hadn't told her mother the full extent of her loneliness, how the cold formality of her marriage had started to gnaw at her. Martha had been skeptical of the marriage from the beginning, and Eva had no desire to hear more "I told you so" remarks, not now. She'd call her later—after she figured out what to say. Right now, she had bigger concerns.

As if on cue, the front door opened, and Eva turned to see Logan stride in, already dressed for the day in his sharp suit and tie. His expression was unreadable, as always, his movements efficient as he made his way toward his office without even a glance in her direction.

"Logan," Eva called out, her voice quieter than she intended.

He paused in the hallway, his hand resting on the doorframe of his office. For a moment, he didn't move, and Eva wondered if he would even acknowledge her. Finally, he turned his head slightly, just enough to meet her eyes.

"Yes?"

Eva swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say. She didn't want to sound needy, but she couldn't shake the growing sense of isolation that had settled over her like a heavy blanket. "I was wondering if we could have dinner together tonight. Just the two of us. We haven't had a chance to talk in a while."

Logan's expression didn't change, though something flickered in his eyes. Annoyance? Guilt? It was hard to tell. "I have a meeting tonight," he said simply. "Maybe another time."

Eva felt a pang of disappointment, though she forced herself to smile. "Of course. I understand."

Logan didn't offer any further explanation before disappearing into his office, the door clicking shut behind him. Eva stood there, staring at the door, her coffee cup growing cold in her hands. It wasn't just the rejection that stung—it was the ease with which he dismissed her, as if her request for a simple dinner was an inconvenience.

As she set her cup down on the counter, her phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Henry.

"Lunch today? I could use a break from the office."

A smile tugged at the corners of Eva's lips. Henry had been one of the few bright spots in her life lately. Unlike Logan, he was warm, approachable, and always seemed to know when she needed someone to talk to. But even as she typed out her response, a pang of guilt twisted in her chest. Logan was her husband, yet it was Henry she felt more comfortable with, Henry who made her feel seen.

"Sure. Let's meet at noon."

---

Hours later, Eva found herself seated across from Henry at a quiet restaurant, their plates half-empty as they lingered over coffee. The conversation flowed easily between them, as it always did, and for a brief moment, Eva allowed herself to relax. With Henry, there was no pretense, no pressure to keep up appearances. He made her laugh, something she hadn't done much of lately.

"You're looking better than the last time I saw you," Henry said, a teasing glint in his eye. "Must be all that high-end fashion business keeping you busy."

Eva chuckled softly, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, the boutique's going well. It's... something to focus on."

Henry's expression softened, and he leaned forward slightly, concern etched in his features. "You okay, Eva? You seem... distant."

Eva hesitated, unsure how much she wanted to reveal. But Henry had always been a good listener, and right now, she needed to talk to someone. "It's Logan," she admitted quietly. "Things between us... it's like we're strangers. I don't even know how to reach him anymore."

Henry's gaze darkened, though he kept his tone gentle. "Has he said anything? Given you any reason why he's acting like this?"

Eva shook her head. "No. He's just... cold. Distant. And now Sophia's back, and I can't help but feel like I'm just filling a role until he can figure out what he really wants."

The mention of Sophia seemed to stir something in Henry, and his jaw tightened briefly before he spoke. "Sophia's trouble, Eva. She always has been. Don't let her get into your head."

Eva looked down at her hands, her chest tightening. "It's hard not to when she's all he seems to think about. Every time I try to reach out to him, it's like she's standing between us."

Henry reached across the table, his hand resting gently on hers. "You deserve better than that, Eva. You deserve someone who sees you, who appreciates everything you're doing."

His touch was warm, comforting, and for a moment, Eva allowed herself to bask in the feeling of being cared for. But then, the guilt crept back in, and she pulled her hand away, offering him a small, strained smile. "Thanks, Henry. I appreciate you saying that."

Henry studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, but he didn't push. Instead, he nodded and leaned back in his chair, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as they finished their lunch. But even as they laughed and joked, Eva couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her life was spiraling out of control, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

---

Later that evening, Eva sat alone in the penthouse, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Logan had texted earlier to let her know he'd be late, though he hadn't bothered to say why. Deep down, she already knew—Sophia.

She had heard them talking on the phone earlier that day, Logan's voice low and calm as Sophia's melodic laughter echoed through the line. It was the first time in weeks that Eva had heard him sound so... human. And it wasn't with her.

The thought gnawed at her as she curled up on the couch, her mind racing. Sophia's return had thrown everything off balance. Before, there had at least been some semblance of normalcy between her and Logan, a quiet routine they had fallen into. But now, it felt like Sophia was pulling him further and further away, leaving Eva standing on the sidelines, helpless.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced down at the screen.

"Dinner tomorrow? My treat. -Henry"

Eva bit her lip, torn between the comfort Henry offered and the guilt that lingered in her chest. She shouldn't rely on him so much—he was Logan's best friend, after all—but it was hard to resist the warmth he brought into her life, especially when Logan was so cold.

"I'll let you know."

She set the phone down and leaned back against the cushions, her mind drifting back to Logan. When had things gotten so complicated? When had she become so... lonely?

The sound of the door opening startled her, and she sat up quickly, her heart racing as Logan walked in. He looked exhausted, his tie loosened and his hair slightly disheveled, but there was something else—something in his eyes that made her stomach twist.

"Late night?" Eva asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Logan nodded, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair. "Yeah. Meetings ran long."

Eva bit her tongue, resisting the urge to ask if "meetings" meant Sophia. Instead, she stood up and walked toward him, her heart pounding. She had to try, one more time.

"I missed you," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan hesitated, his expression unreadable as he looked at her. For a moment, Eva thought she saw something soften in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"I've been busy," he said simply, brushing past her as he headed toward the kitchen.

Eva stood there, her heart sinking as the distance between them grew even more palpable. She watched him for a moment, his back turned to her as he poured himself a drink, and she realized with a painful clarity that she was losing him. If she hadn't already lost him completely.

The silence between them was suffocating, and Eva felt a wave of frustration wash over her. She had tried—tried to reach him, tried to be the wife he needed—but it was like banging against a locked door. He wasn't going to let her in, and Sophia was only making it worse.

"I'm going to bed," she said, her voice tight as she turned toward the hallway.

Logan didn't respond. He didn't even look up.

As Eva walked away, her chest heavy with emotion, she realized that the loneliness she felt wasn't just because of Sophia or Logan's coldness. It was deeper than that. She was starting to feel like a stranger in her own life, trapped in a marriage that was becoming more of a facade with each passing day.

And she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep pretending everything was fine.