Logan's POV
"Maybe start by saying you're sorry," huh?
It's a plan so difficult in its simplicity.
How am I even supposed to reach Noah? How do you look him in the eye and say 'sorry' like it's a magic word that erases years of pain I caused?
I groan and scratch the back of my head. My chest aches—not in a physical way. My mum had the family healer check me out before I left the Big House and I got a clean bill of health. Aside from my shoulder that still needs weeks of steady physical therapy to fully heal, I have no broken ribs. No cracked bones. No physical explanation for the weight behind my lungs.
This is something deeper. It's a bruise made of guilt and regret spreading behind my ribs. One that medicine and magic can't touch.
I sit on the edge of the hotel bed and sigh. The suite's quiet. Too quiet. The silence crawls over me like ivy on brick.
In four days, the Coyotes go back to practice. Which means in four days, I'll see Noah again.
