declaration of love

Grace's POV

A month had passed since that night, Logan hadn't reached out to me or even tried to see me again. I stopped cleaning his apartment, and my position as a housekeeper was replaced by my friend, Nancy.

Mrs. Katherine Maverick also hadn't spoken to me again, nor had she mentioned the viral photo. What we had seemed to have faded away, as though it had never existed.

Maybe it really never did. Perhaps I had been reading too much into Logan's actions. Yes... Maybe he was just being playful, Playing with me like any other bachelor.

I didn't want to think about him anymore, especially after his public clarification, where he stated that he was merely helping me that night. While his words brought some relief, I couldn't deny the sting they left in my heart. Still, I had no choice but to let it go and allow him to focus on his career.

I often found myself watching him on television or scrolling through social media videos of him attending event after event.

"Of course, he would forget about me... After all, who am I?" I muttered bitterly, sipping my hot chocolate as I gazed out at the breathtaking nighttime view of New York City from above. The cool night breeze brushed my face, tousling my hair gently.

"Grace..."

Stella's voice from inside the room pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned to see her standing there, radiant in a red dress that perfectly highlighted her figure. The spaghetti straps barely covered her shoulders, and her neatly tied hair complemented the bold makeup and bright red lipstick she wore.

I offered her a faint smile, realizing she was dressed up for a date. Although her marriage to Antonio wasn't officially over, she was already seeing someone new. She believed staying alone for too long would only make her miserable, but she had become more cautious—determined to ensure the man she chose wasn't hiding anything.

"Do I look beautiful?" she asked sweetly, twirling in her dress. "By the way, Marvel sent me this gown to wear to our dinner tonight. The bag and heels are from him too. He must be super rich," she said, pointing to a small, shiny black purse with golden-white chain straps.

I sighed and turned my attention back to the view.

"You look beautiful... You already know that. Clothes don't define your beauty, but remember—just because a man seems kind doesn't mean he's good for you. And not all gifts are worth accepting," I said, reminded of Chris's kindness when he wanted me to be his wife.

"Grace..." Stella moved closer to me. "Don't worry. Marvel is a good guy."

"You also said Antonio was good, but look how he hurt you," I replied before she could finish her sentence. "Go now... Just don't end up in bed with him."

"Hmm... I'm not that reckless," she said, though her tone wasn't entirely convincing. She walked back into the room.

"She never learns," I murmured, returning to the view and savoring my hot chocolate again.

Peaceful, empty, yet melancholic—that's how I felt. Occasionally, Logan's face haunted my mind, stirring frustration. It was as if he had cast a spell on me with his charm, while I was just an older woman... insignificant to him.

Irritated, I went to my room and grabbed my phone. To my surprise, there was a photo message from Logan.

"He... He sent me a message after all this time…" My heart raced as I opened the photo with curiosity.

My eyes widened. It was a selfie of Logan lying on his side. His face was pale, his eyes weary, and he wore a black hoodie.

"I need you."

The caption and image shook me to my core. He didn't look well. I couldn't sit still anymore. I rushed out of my room and straight to the door, barely registering whether it had shut behind me.

I hurried to the elevator, clutching my phone tightly, my mind swirling with images of him alone in his apartment, looking so frail.

Time felt painfully slow, and every step felt like a mile. I ran from my apartment building to Mrs. Katherine Maverick's building. Once there, I entered the elevator to the 25th floor.

Standing in front of Logan's apartment door, my hand hovered over the keypad.

"Should I go in? What will happen? What should I say? How should I act? But... But there's nothing between us. Maybe he sent the message because he didn't know who else to ask for help..."

Clenching my fists, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Screw my feelings. I need to help him, no matter the reason." I convinced myself and entered the code, pushing the door open.

The living room was a mess—clothes scattered on the floor, the table cluttered with paper bags, drink bottles, and cans. The place reeked as if it hadn't been cleaned in ages.

"Did Nancy stop cleaning? Or... has this place been abandoned? Is Logan even here?"

I cautiously walked toward his bedroom and pushed the door open slightly. Peeking inside, I found him. Without hesitation, I opened the door wider and approached him.

"Logan..." I sat on the edge of the bed, gently laying his curled-up body flat. Placing my hand on his forehead, then his cheek, I saw how pale he was. His body trembled. "You're sick... You have a fever..."

"You're here," he whispered with a faint smile.

I froze. Seeing him like this shattered me, and tears welled up in my eyes.

"How long have you been like this?" I asked.

"I didn't think it was important to tell you... I'm just happy you're here," he said weakly, his voice barely audible, his eyes tired.

I pulled out my phone from my pajama pocket. "Wait... I'll call 911!"

"No!" He suddenly grabbed my phone. "Don't call anyone... I just need you. I don't need anyone else..." His hand, burning with fever, grasped mine tightly.

Awkwardly, I tried to pull away, but his desperate grip stopped me. His weary eyes made it impossible for me to forcefully break free.

"Shasha, I know this is strange. You must think I'm crazy, I..." He exhaled sharply, turning his head for a moment. "I think... I... I might be in love with you..."

"What?" I yanked my hand back, but he held onto it again.

"Shasha, please... Give me a chance!" he pleaded, sitting up and holding both my hands on his lap. "I've never felt this way before... I've never truly liked anyone until I met you. I feel lost and lifeless when we're apart!"

"Stop this nonsense!" I stood abruptly, pulling my hands away. "What are you even saying? You can't live without me? Do you think I'm blind? I've seen you busy with events broadcast on TV and social media. How can you say such things?"

"I've been doing that to fight my feelings!" he said, clutching his chest. I turned away, unwilling to meet his sorrowful gaze. "I know my actions confuse you, and you think you're not good enough for me... But the truth is, I'm the one who's not good enough for you. I might bring trouble into your life because of my situation... I tried to stay away from you, but it's impossible. Today, I've reached my limit. I'm done fighting this. I can't anymore!" His voice broke with emotion as he clutched my hand again.

I remained silent, my heart pounding, unsure of how to respond.

"Shasha... You're the only one I truly want," he pleaded again. "Please... Give me a chance to prove I'm worthy of being with you."

I swallowed hard and turned to see his reddened eyes, on the verge of tears. It shocked me. He was crying, begging for my love? Should I believe him? What if he was only playing games? What if he turned out to be like Chris?

But... what if this was real?

Should I let myself love him? He's seven years younger than me...