Chapter 2

"Mrs. Nicole Miller? Your husband called us, stating that you ran away from home in an emotionally unstable state. Do you need any assistance?"

I took a deep breath. "No, Officers. That's unnecessary."

"I just don't want to share the same space with him."

Before the words fully left my mouth, Logan darted out from behind the officers and shoved his way in. "You don't want to be with me, or do you have someone else in here?!"

The moment he entered, Pumpkin woke with a start. The next second, her back arched high, emitting a low, guttural growl.

Logan flinched and stepped back. Facing the police, he pleaded, "Nicole, come outside. Lock that vicious cat in the bathroom!"

"I'm not going anywhere! Officers, this is a domestic dispute, and I have the right to ask him to leave me alone, don't I?"

"I refuse to be in the same room with him."

Logan wore a defeated, wounded expression. "I know I'm not good enough, Nicole. You want a divorce over a cat, but I'm just worried sick about you. Can we please just talk?"

The officer chimed in, "Ma'am, your husband has a point. It's best if you two communicate calmly."

"There's nothing left to say," I said, looking straight into his eyes. "Logan, I want a divorce."

"Just because your cat scratched me?!"

Logan looked baffled. I nodded firmly. "Yes. Just because she scratched you."

"Save your breath. I don't want to hear it. Now that you know where I am, you can leave. I want to rest."

Without waiting for his response, I began closing the door.

Logan was seething, but with the police watching, all he could do was beg. I shut the door in his face without hesitation, gently stroking Pumpkin’s ruffled fur as cold dread washed over me.

Moments later, complaints from other guests about Logan pounding on my door drew the hotel security, who escorted him away.

Before I could even process his strange behavior, my phone rang. It was my mother.

The second I picked up, she started screaming, "Nicole! Are you seeing someone else behind his back?! You had a perfectly good marriage—what is wrong with you?!"

My stomach twisted. Logan actually went and tattled to my parents!

A wave of fury surged inside me. "Mom, stay out of my business!"

My mother exploded over the phone, her voice deafening. "I've spoiled you rotten! Divorcing your husband over an animal?!"

"Do you have any idea how hard Logan works?! Even on his business trip, he remembered to buy you presents! How could you be so utterly stupid?!"

"Mom, stop it!"

A throbbing headache flared in my temples. As my mother continued her relentless tirade, I couldn't take it anymore and hung up.

Immediately after, calls from my aunts, uncles, in-laws, and mutual friends flooded my phone. I didn't pick up a single one. I didn't need to—I already knew what they would say: Logan is such a wonderful man.

I knew he was a good man. If he hadn't been, I never would have married him.

Yet the Logan standing before me tonight felt like a completely different person.

Right then, a text from Logan popped up on my screen: [Baby, I was wrong. I shouldn't have been so impatient tonight. But I just missed you so much. Please come home. Let's not get divorced, okay?]

My fingers clenched tightly into my palm.

Logan had never called me "Baby." He always called me "Nicky" or "Nicky-bear."

He always used to say Pumpkin was his little girl, and I was his big girl. This generic pet name instantly sent chills down my spine.

Logan’s behavior tonight was wildly out of character. People often say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but the moment he walked through the door, he couldn't wait to jump into bed with me.

The look in his eyes had been predatory—like a starved hunter staring down his prey. It was completely unlike the gentle man I knew.

I took a deep, shaky breath, balling my fists. Beside me, Pumpkin had finally calmed down.