Authors: Christina Palmer
Charlotte wasn’t even
aware she’d fallen asleep. Perhaps, it was the emotional exhaustion of the
evening. Possibly it had more to do with the drinking and dancing she'd done at
the reception, which had finally caught up with her. Probably, a bit of both. Either
way, Logan woke her. She'd slumped down a bit, asleep in the unforgiving
plastic chair beside his bed. He was nudging her shoulder with his hand,
shaking her gently.
“Charlotte…
Char
?”
She jerked up, her back
stiff and achy due to the way she’d been sleeping. She rubbed it and winced,
then blinked her eyes a few times. Suddenly, she remembered everything that had
happened in a couple of seconds, and then she realized Logan was awake. She
smiled at him and stood up to look at him.
“Logan…how are you? How
are you feeling?”
“Well…I could be better,”
he joked, smiling back at her. “It's good to see you, though.”
“Oh Logan, I was so
worried! When I saw you, I thought you were d….”
“How was the party?”
She couldn’t believe he
was asking about the party at a time like this. Perhaps he was still groggy.
She decided to humor him…she didn’t want to upset him in his fragile and vulnerable
state. However, she hadn’t forgotten the promise she’d made to herself to find
out more.
“It was good, darling,”
she said.
“Sorry I couldn’t stick
around longer,” he slurred. “I would've liked to have met Louise and Sarah.”
“Really? That’s not the
impression you were giving,” she said quietly, surprised by what he'd said. She
immediately regretted baiting him.
“Huh?” he said groggily.
“Oh, I was just a bit nervous, that’s all. Bethany seems nice. Maybe we could
invite her over for a threesome?”
“What?” Charlotte asked, completely
shocked by his words.
He looked at her very
seriously and then started chuckling. “Oh, your face…”
“You were joking?” she
asked warily.
“Of course. Although, I
wouldn’t say no to the idea.”
“Logan! I can't believe
you,” She felt her face heating up, blushing. “You’ve just been shot! You
nearly died and you’re cracking jokes like
that
? I mean, really!”
The slightly delirious look
on Logan's face darkened at the mention of the shooting, but Charlotte remained
resolute.
"We...we really need
to talk about this, Logan. I need to find out what happened," she
insisted, quietly but firmly.
He winced as he tried to
move slightly and said, "Would you ask the nurses to give me more pain
medicine? Please?"
"Oh God, are you in
pain? I mean, of course you are," She stood up and pressed the buzzer.
Within a couple minutes,
a young, pretty nurse entered the room and fiddled around with one of Logan's
IV drips, adjusting it to help with his pain.
"Just relax,"
she told him kindly. "That should kick in very soon."
“Oh, I’m quite relaxed
already,” he said, as he smiled and leaned over. He reached out and gave the
nurse a playful slap on her backside.
“Logan!” Charlotte
screeched in horror.
Appearing unfazed, the
nurse smiled at him.
“It’s okay, he’s taking
some strong pain medication. He's not himself right now,” she said to Charlotte.
She quickly finished what
she was doing before looking at Logan and leaving the room.
He leaned back on his
pillows with a silly smile on his face. For the first time ever, Charlotte
found herself feeling a pang of jealousy. To see her handsome Logan paying
another woman any attention, especially of
that
kind, after having had months
of his undivided focus was strange, indeed. She felt as if she'd entered the
Twilight Zone. Ever since she'd seen him sitting in a pool of blood, it was as
if her world was on its side. Nothing was the same.
Once they were alone
again, an uncomfortable silence descended on the room. The weight of Logan’s
behavior with the pretty nurse, as well as his truly tasteless joke about a
threesome, was weighing heavily on her mind. She began to wonder who the Hell
Logan was. She knew so little about his life. It was as if she'd been living
with a stranger.
"It happened on the
way back from work," he eventually broke the silence. "I got mugged.
When I refused to give them anything, they shot me."
Charlotte immediately saw
he wasn’t as out of it as he'd made her believe. Something about the way he'd
said it... She wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his voice or the avoidance of
eye contact, but something made her not quite believe him.
"
'They?'
How
many were there?" she asked.
"Two."
"Could you recognize
them if you were to see them again?"
He shook his head. "No,
they were wearing masks."
"Why didn't you just
give them what they wanted? Your wallet or your phone or whatever?" she
questioned him, baffled that he'd resist.
"Why should I?"
He sat up a little and winced. "Why should I just give them
my
stuff?
Why would I want to be a weakling and hand it over, hmm?"
"Because then you might
not be lying in a hospital bed, in pain, with a gunshot wound that almost
killed you!" frustration and exasperation came through in her tone.
She wanted to avoid arguing
with him, but she wasn't going to just sit there and accept everything he said
at face value, not this time.
"What is it that you
actually do for a living, Logan?" She pushed. "Why won't you tell me?
You always avoid the question and never talk about it."
"This had nothing to
do with my work," he insisted.
"I know."
"Well then, why are
you asking me about it?"
"Because...because
I'm really...curious."
"Curiosity killed
the cat. That's what my dad used to say."
"Yeah well, I'm not
a cat, am I?"
"Mind your own
fucking business!" he snapped, and then immediately winced again from
pain.
Charlotte flinched, as
though he'd slapped her across the face.
"Go and get me
coffee," he said weakly, and then sighed as he settled back into the
pillows on the bed, wincing yet again.
She sighed quietly and
stood up, ready to leave to get him coffee, as he'd requested.
He’s drugged. He's not
himself
, she
reminded herself.
He was in a weakened
state and in serious pain. He needed to be looked after, but she decided to
give it one more shot before she left.
"Why won't you tell
me?" She asked gently, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.
He tensed. For a moment,
she thought he was going to snatch his hand away and lose his temper completely.
In the split second he didn't, Charlotte decided to use it to her advantage.
"Please,
honey," she whispered, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "We love
each other and you said people who love each other are supposed to share
everything."
She felt a twinge of
guilt for throwing his words back at him, especially while he lay there in a
hospital bed, shot and in pain. She was aware she was essentially manipulating
him. However, she thought about it—really thought about it—rather than ignoring
it or sweeping it under a carpet, as she typically did.
Logan used words to
manipulate and control her every single day. She'd always just accepted it. She
did it because she cared about him and because she wanted life with him to be easy
and free of tension and arguments. She always walked on eggshells to avoid his
moods and temper, finding it easier to simply hold her tongue and often
suppress whom she was, just to get along with him.
However, she figured that
he expected her to text him every half hour when she was out with her friends,
which so rarely happened. He also wanted her to inform him of her every move, so
surely it wasn't that much of a big deal for her to know what he does as his career.
It was unfair he knew everything about her and she knew virtually nothing about
him.
They were in a relationship,
living together. She'd never heard of anyone else in this situation, everyone else
knew what their partners did for a living. It was embarrassing she'd been with
him this long and still had no clue as to what he did. She's supposed to marry
this man. That thought reminded her of another point she could make to try and
convince him.
"What about when we're
married?" she said. "Aren't you going to invite some of your work
colleagues to the wedding? Sooner or later, I'm going to find out...it would
just be weird for me to be married to you and never know what you do for a living,
right?"
She smiled at him and
kissed his cheek again, whispering, "I love you."
Then she stood back and
observed his reaction. He hadn't shouted, he hadn't snapped at her. Those were
good signs. Instead, he was staring straight in front of him, as if deep in
thought. Eventually, he turned his head to look at her. He caught her eyes in
his dark gaze.
"It's to protect
you," he whispered.
"Protect me? From...
what
?"
she asked, perplexed by his statement.
"Charlotte, what I
do is dangerous. The less you know the better. Talking about it would put you
at immediate risk, and I'm not willing to do that. I love you too much for that,"
Logan said, looking sincere.
She felt her heart beat
faster in her chest. Her little fantasies had been right all along. He really
was some type of spy or secret agent. What other possible explanation could
there be?
"That's all I'm
going to say about it," he added. "Please...don't ask me again. Just
go and get me coffee…please Charlotte."
As dictated by law, since
he'd been injured from a gunshot wound, the Police were notified by the
hospital. Logan had been interviewed by the police the day after his surgery. Although
he cooperated fully, he didn't provide much useful information. After giving
his rather lame account of what had occurred, he was adamant about not pressing
charges or having the police pursue the case.
The fact Logan wanted the
case dropped didn't sit well with Charlotte. She'd wanted the culprit or
culprits of the shooting to be brought to justice. She felt unsafe knowing that
whomever shot Logan was out there, roaming the streets. It didn't make sense
he'd choose to drop it. He'd been shot and almost killed. She couldn't imagine
anyone choosing to let that go.
However, she continued to
have niggling doubts about the story he'd told her—that he'd been mugged.
Although she had no concrete reasons to distrust Logan, she had an inexplicable
gut feeling his story wasn't what really happened.
The next month passed
quickly. Logan insisted on coming home from the hospital after only two days. He
never again complained about the pain and he seemed to recover exceptionally
quickly. Within three weeks, he was using the home gym, lifting weights and
running on the treadmill, despite Charlotte’s protests.
***
On February 29, Charlotte
proposed to him, fulfilling the wish he'd hinted at on more than one occasion.
Of course, he accepted immediately, and plans were put into motion to start
preparing for their wedding.
Charlotte had no idea
about how to plan a wedding. So, she naturally turned to Bethany for help,
asking for her advice about churches, reception venues and many other wedding
related issues. She organized everything with Bethany’s help: the color scheme,
catering and music. The list seemed endless with so many details to attend to.
Logan, for the most part,
took no interest in the wedding plans and was happy to leave everything to
Charlotte. He encouraged her to take care of everything on her own by telling
her often he trusted her to do a good job. He said he wasn't too concerned
about the details, he'd be happy just to be married to her.
Nevertheless, she'd gotten
the distinct impression from the many times they'd been discussed relationships
and marriage, he'd prefer a traditional, church based white wedding with all of
the accompaniments. She figured maybe he didn't care as much as she did because
he didn't want to be bothered with the seemingly endless details. Anyway, this
would be Logan's third wedding and her
only
one.
Maybe he was being
considerate of her wishes by leaving things to her. Perhaps he'd wanted her to
have exactly what she wanted for her wedding. Women usually seem to have their
wedding in their hopes and dreams, quite often since childhood. Logan would
have no way of knowing, she'd never wanted to get married.
Since their unsatisfying
conversation in the hospital, they hadn't discussed Logan's career any further,
nor had they discussed whether any of his work colleagues would attend their
wedding. The closer it got to their wedding day, the more difficult she found
to keep her promise to him—her promise never to talk of the matter again.
Eventually, she broached the
taboo subject after one of their more exhausting love making sessions. Aside
from the period of a few weeks when he was recovering from the gunshot, he was
virtually insatiable. He wanted to have sex
at least
once a day.
Charlotte found it
difficult to keep up with him; her sex drive remained significantly lower than
his. It was to the point she had to force her enthusiasm to keep him happy. She
always had a smile on her face by the end though. At least, that was what he
told her, anyway. She couldn’t be certain whether she did or didn't. She was usually
just glad to be able to cuddle up and go to sleep afterwards.
“Are you inviting anyone
to the wedding?” she asked him quietly, stroking his chest with her index
finger. “We need to send out invitations soon.”
“Um…” He gave a heavy
sigh and rolled over to face the wall, his back to her. She snuggled her naked
body up against his.
After several moments, he
reluctantly said, “Yeah, I suppose we do need to think about that,” he agreed.
“Who are you inviting?”
“Well…Bethany, Sarah and
Louise, obviously. And their respective partners. My parents and any other
family members that want to come. I’m not sure many will, to be honest. I’m not
expecting many really.”
Charlotte didn’t have a
particularly close family and she hadn’t seen most of her relatives for years, not
since she'd been a little girl.
“What about you? I’d
really love to meet your family.” She pinched his arm teasingly. “You must have
one.”
“Actually, I don’t,” he
answered tersely. “Both of my parents are dead. I was an only child and my
parents were only children, too. We have virtually no extended family. A couple
of distant cousins, who I never see.”
“Oh wow. I'm so sorry,
Logan. I never knew that. You never told me,” she said, as she wrapped her arm
around him in a comforting and supportive manner.
“It's not that big a deal.
I'm used to it that way, but thanks,” he shrugged.
“Of course it is, honey;
I want to know everything about you. All of these things have made you who you
are today," she said sweetly.
He didn’t say anything
more. She didn’t push her line of inquiry. She thought it might be a tough
subject for him to discuss. Although she was curious about the details, she
respected that the loss of one's parents would be terribly emotionally
upsetting. She felt simply awful he had no family.
Charlotte's parents meant
the world to her. Although she didn't see them very often, she couldn't imagine
not having them, she wouldn't want to. She wondered how old Logan was when he
lost them, if he lost them at the same time as well as how they'd died.
“Who else do you have?”
she asked him. “Do you have any friends you'd like to invite to the wedding? Hmm,
I can't remember you ever talking about any friends.”
“I don’t have any. You’re
my only friend,” Logan said, looking into her eyes.
“What about the people
you work with?” Charlotte asked, trying desperately to find anyone who'd be
connected with him.
“What about them?”
“Do you consider any of
them to be your friends?” she asked.
He fell silent and
thought about it for a moment.
“Hmm, I suppose there
are… a couple of people I trust more than others,” he said.
“Well then, why don’t you
invite
them
to the wedding,” she said encouragingly. “You’ve got to have
someone
on your side of the church; otherwise it’ll look ridiculous.”
“Are you saying that I’m
ridiculous?” He sat up quickly, a fiery look in his eyes.
“No, no, not at all. That
wasn’t what I meant,” she said quickly, afraid of the repercussions to what
she'd said.
“What
did
you mean
then?” Logan asked defensively.
“I just want there to be
at least a few people at the wedding for you, that’s all. It’d be nice to have
a party after the ceremony, like at Bethany's wedding. I want us
both
to
share our marriage with the people in our lives. You know, to be proud. I
certainly want to show you off. I'm proud of you. It's a pretty big deal, our
wedding. Well, in my eyes, at least.”
He settled down
immediately and reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers.
“I’ll see what I can do,”
he whispered. “I wouldn’t want the love of my life to be disappointed on the
most important day of her life now, would I?”
He smiled and rolled onto
his back, opening his arms and pulling her in towards his chest for a tender,
romantic cuddle.