Chapter three

Years ago. 

Last night was the best night of my life. My first love took away my virginity, which was most teens’ dream, and I finally got to experience the feeling. Such a sweet feeling.

I stretched on the bed, smiling with my eyes closed. I kept stretching, but I couldn't feel anyone close to me. I opened my eyes to confirm, he wasn't next to me. Maybe he was in the bathroom.

"Keith," I called out, yawning. No reply. I called again, still nothing. By the time I called him the third time, I was already on my feet, heading toward the hotel bathroom, but it was empty. He must have left for something urgent. I grabbed my phone, but there weren’t any texts from him. Weird. The only texts I got were from my best friend. I clicked on the bombarded texts she had sent, but before I could read the messages, she called, and I answered.

"Is Keith with you?" I could hear the panic in her voice. Did something happen to Keith?

"No, he is not with me. Did something happen to him?"

"No, that's not the case, Liana. Did you have sex with him last night?" She was already scaring me.

"Ye–yes. Why are you asking me these questions, Bianca?"

"Oh my… Keith has disappeared. His parents' house has been sold to new people, his friends can't reach him, and rumors are going around that he..." She paused.

I couldn't feel my legs. "He what?"

"He just wanted to knock you over, and since he already got his way, he disappeared. I'm so sorry, Liana."

No. It was a lie. He would never do that. I hung up and called him. He didn't answer the first time. I called again, but he still didn’t answer. I tried the third time, only for the number not to exist. What? The number that just rang?

I tried again. I was told the number doesn’t exist.

I dropped to my knees. Tears filled my eyes as I realized the truth.

PRESENT DAY

My eyes blinked open to the ceiling above me. It was all just a bad dream. Keith couldn't just appear out of nowhere after five years. I must have mistaken Logan for Keith. I let out a breath of relief.

I felt the bed shift next to me.

"How are you feeling?" Helen’s soft voice came from beside me.

I must have fainted. 

"I'm okay," I said, slowly sitting up.

"Are you sure? Or should I call Keith to examine you? He's a doctor."

My heart stopped. Keith? It wasn't a dream?

I grabbed Helen's arm quickly before she could stand up.

"No. I’m fine. Really. Maybe I’ll meet Logan another day, I just want to go home now."

What was Keith doing here? Is he related to the Greys? No, that couldn’t be right; his last name is Cross. Why do I even care? 

Helen didn’t ask anything else. She just helped me to my feet, guiding me downstairs carefully. But the moment we reached the bottom step, I saw him.

He was standing across the room, tall and calm. We made eye contact.

His whiskey-colored eyes narrowed a little, studying my face, not with recognition, but curiosity. 

"Thank God you caught her, Keith, or else she would’ve been more injured," Helen said.

He looked away first. "She was lucky I was nearby."

I forced myself to look away from him.

“I want to go home,” I told Raymond the moment he walked into the room.

“Liana, we’re guests. Logan will be here soon, and I expect you to be respectful,” he said.

“I’m not feeling well,” I said, standing my ground.

Raymond's jaw clenched. He clearly wanted to argue, but after a long pause, he sighed.

“I’ll stay and speak with Logan. The driver will take you home.”

As I stepped outside with the driver and the fresh air hit my face, I saw a black car parked out front. The back door swung open, and a man in a wheelchair slowly slid out.

Pale gray eyes.

Black hair.

Black shirt, black pants, and black coat.

There was a lady behind him, pushing the wheelchair slowly until he reached the flat ground. Then he moved his hands to the wheels and started rolling himself forward.

He stopped right in front of me. I stared, confused. He stared back, like he already knew who I was.

“My bride-to-be is already leaving without meeting her husband?” He said. 

Wait, what?

Logan?

I didn’t even know what to say. My eyes dropped to the wheelchair, then back up at his face. 

"Logan?" I asked just to be sure. 

His eyes narrowed. "Is that surprising?" Well, yeah. I didn't expect to see him in a wheelchair. 

“If you and your father are planning something,” he said before I could speak, “don’t bother. You won’t succeed.”

That made something snap in me.

“If you think I’m here willingly,” I said, “you’re more crippled than I thought.”

He didn’t flinch. Just kept looking at me with those cold eyes. Then, finally, he said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you some other time,” I muttered. “I’m not feeling well. And you don’t get to be mad, I waited for three hours.”

I turned to the driver. “Take me home,” I said, brushing past Logan.

Just as the driver opened the backseat door, I heard Logan’s voice behind me.

“I’ll send a car to your house tomorrow morning. Be ready.”

I turned slightly, just enough to see him already rolling away, the same lady quietly walking behind him as they disappeared into the house. He didn’t even look back.

I got into the car and closed the door. My chest felt tight.

Raymond didn’t tell me Logan was in a wheelchair.

Keith was back like nothing ever happened.

I already dislike Logan.

But none of that mattered. 

All I cared about was one thing: getting my daughter back.