CHAPTER 225: DRENCHED IN SILENCE

It made something coil tight and poisonous in his chest.

Logan had always thought revenge would be simple. See the enemy, strike and watch them fall.

But what was he supposed to do with this?

This feeling of wanting to burn the whole world just to make her smile again and the crushing fear that even then, it might not be enough?

"Why didn’t you tell me, Jean? Was it because of me... Do you still not trust me?"

He clenched his hand until his nails bit into his palm. He used to want her to regret marrying him. That was the plan. To see her guarded eyes, her scorn and finally feel like he had the upper hand.

Now? He just wanted her to see him. Truly see him. To believe that even for a moment someone could stand between her and the darkness.

But could she? She flinches from everyone else’s touch... except mine.

That thought was a spark in the dark. It made something raw and foolish flutter in his chest. But it also terrified him.

Because loving her... truly loving her meant accepting that she might never love him back the same way. And that still wouldn’t be enough to make him stop.

His phone buzzed faintly. The lawyer, working late into the night, just as he’d ordered. He glanced once more at Jean. She hadn’t moved. Still that same small, tense figure under the moonlight.

I’m here, Jean. He thought, his chest heavy with an ache he couldn’t name. Even if you never say it, I’ll fight them all for you.

And with that, he finally stepped closer... close enough for her to feel his warmth, even if she wouldn’t look at him yet.

________________________

The hush of the night wrapped around them, broken only by the quiet lapping of water against the dock. Logan stood close, but not too close... enough that she could feel his presence, yet far enough to let her breathe.

He watched her, the way her hair fell forward like a curtain, shielding her eyes. For a moment, he hesitated, the words heavy on his tongue. Then, in a low voice, he spoke.

"Jean," he began, almost carefully, "I know you don’t see me as someone you can trust... Someone you can lean on."

She didn’t look up. But her fingers tightened around the railing, knuckles whitening. Logan noticed, and his chest ached.

"Maybe, to you, I’m still just the man you signed a contract with," He continued, his voice turning softer, almost weary. "A business partner. An ally at best."

A breath left him, rough around the edges.

"And if that’s how it stays... then that’s fine. Truly. Because even if that’s all I can ever be to you, Jean... I’m still going to stand by your side."

The confession weighed heavier than he expected. It wasn’t the vow of a husband who wanted to possess; it was something emotionally raw, humbler... the vow of a man who simply wanted to protect.

"Even if you never see me as your husband. Even if you see me only as a well wisher," he went on, voice husky, "I’ll still fight for you. Because now... I see you for who you really are."

Slowly, his gaze traced the shape of her, as if memorizing the quiet strength that radiated even in stillness.

"Not the untouchable queen everyone else thinks," He murmured. "But a woman carrying scars no one sees. A woman who stands up every single day, even when it would be easier to fall."

Jean’s shoulders trembled, so faintly it might have been the breeze but Logan knew better.

"And I respect that more than anything," he added, voice rough. "I respect you, Jean. Even if you never say a word to me about your past... I see you. And I’ll keep standing here. Whether you ever let me in or not."

He swallowed, the words scraping his throat, but they felt right. True.

"You don’t owe me anything," He finished softly. "But this... this is what I choose."

He stayed quiet after that. Close, steady, and quietly stubborn... like a wall built not to imprison her, but to shield her from the wind.

And in that moment, even without reaching out, he hoped she could feel it. That whatever happened next, she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

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The entire ride home passed in heavy silence. Neither spoke. Logan wanting to give her space.

The car hummed quietly, the only sound between them. Jean stared out of the window, city lights blurring into streaks of white and gold against the dark.

Beside her, Logan gripped the steering wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed ahead. Words crowded his chest, but none seemed enough.

When they finally reached the driveway and the car eased to a stop inside the garage, Jean unbuckled her seatbelt without a word. Logan’s phone buzzed on the console. He glanced down, distracted by the urgent message flashing on the screen.

In that heartbeat, Jean stepped out.

She crossed the concrete floor of the garage, moving past the open gate into the night. As she emerged, the sky split open... thunder cracking like a warning shot. Rain came pouring down, drenching her instantly.

Jean didn’t flinch.

She just stood there, face tilted upward, hair plastering to her cheeks, lashes beaded with rain. As if the storm itself could wash away the ache lodged deep in her chest.

Logan frowned when he realized she wasn’t behind him. His head snapped up and his heart clenched painfully in his chest.

"Jean?"

He stepped forward, phone slipping from his fingers, landing somewhere he didn’t care to look.

Through the curtain of rain, he saw her... A slender figure silhouetted against the night, completely still. His relief froze instantly when his gaze shifted.

A broken tree branch, heavy and soaked, had cracked under the storm’s weight. It teetered dangerously against the old iron lamppost right above where Jean stood. The base of the pole had already bent, groaning under the strain.

Logan’s blood ran cold.

"Jean!"