Persuasion

You Need Me, I Don't Need You

I woke up to the sound of Logan's phone vibrating on the nightstand. He sat up in bed and answered the phone quietly "Hello"

He slipped his shorts and shirt on quickly and walked out of the bedroom "I'm sorry O, I fell asleep. How was your day?"

I strained to listen to the conversation.

"No I'm not back in London yet. I had to stay in Hamburg another night."

His voice got quieter "I miss you too. I'll call you when I get back to London."

My heart sank.

"You too. Goodnight" he said before returning to the bedroom.

He climbed back in bed and I rolled over. "Hey who was on the phone?" I asked pretending to be more asleep than I was.

"No one" he lied "go back to sleep Ace." He pulled me closer to him and kissed me gently on my forehead.

I lay there and listened to his breathing slow as he drifted off to sleep. I however, was wide awake. I slowly rolled out of bed, moving quietly as not disturb Logan. I went out on the balcony, grabbing a blanket and my phone. I sat in the chair and did something I had been avoiding doing since I graduated Yale. I googled Logan Huntzberger.

The hits came back, several articles about his business success. A picture of Logan next to his father and several other suited men with an article about the Huntzberger's acquisition of the company Logan was working for in California. His picture was featured amongst several other handsome aristocrats in an Ok!Magazine article about London's most eligible bachelors. I looked at the date it was from 2012, long enough ago for the bachelor status to change. Another picture of him smiling enthusiastically next to Finn and Collin all three of them holding champagne flutes, attached to an article about an event for the Yale Club of London. Then I saw it, a picture of Logan with his arms around a blonde woman. She was facing the camera with a sultry stare while Logan was kissing her gently on the cheek. Judging by their attire, they were at some formal event. He was in a tuxedo while she was wearing a black fitted gown which had a dangerously high slit exposing one of her long slender legs. The caption on the photo was 'Love in the Heir? Logan Huntzberger heir to the Huntzberger publishing empire was seen getting cozy with French business heiress Odette Martin at last night's Symphony Fundraiser.' I added her name to the search. More pictures of the two of them at various events, holding hands at a cafe in Paris, standing neatly beside Mitchum and Shira at some company event, a vacation picture with the two of them playing in the surf somewhere tropical. I suddenly felt the warmth from the tears running down my face. I went back inside and gathered my strewn clothes quietly. I dressed in the bathroom, pausing for a moment when I saw my red tear filled eyes staring back at me in the mirror. A wave of anger and humiliation hit me, I hadn't even been around him for 48 hours and already I was reduced to tears. He had a girlfriend. Then I thought about Paul and felt sick to my stomach. Neither one of us bothered to ask each other about significant others. I suppose neither of us really wanted to know, but we couldn't keep pretending to be oblivious. We had to go back to reality tomorrow.

I watched him for a minute, thinking about how happy I had been in the past couple of days. I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes again and I walked out his hotel room. I had to get out of there. I got down to the lobby and calmly asked the doorman to call me a taxi giving him the name of my hotel. I attempted to smile when I thanked him, sure that he noticed my tear stained cheeks. I sat down in one of the plush chairs that faced the windows and tried to read, but I just kept re-reading the same paragraph over and over again. I saw the lights outside indicating the taxi had arrived, I turned down the corner of the page in my book to mark it and walked out into the brisk Hamburg air wishing I was wrapped up in Logan's arms asleep as I had been hours before. I let myself get caught up in his charm and that smile that could make me melt. F. Scott Fitzgerald was right 'there are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice." I was stupid to think that we could just start something again after all this time. I held it together until I was safely back in my hotel room, I curled up under the covers still completely dressed and cried myself to sleep.