Page 58 of Man Flu

“What if you can’t fix something?” Where the hell is he going with this?

“I don’t know. I would probably do what anyone might do and replace it?”

“Wrong answer,” he says with a clipped intonation.

“I don’t like mind games. I can tell you that.” That came out snippier than I intended, but what the hell?

He drops the back of his arm across his forehead. “Do I feel hot to you?” I’m so frustrated with the interruption. I want to know what this is all about.

Instead, I lean forward and place the back of my hand over the lower part of his forehead, then his cheek, like I do with Cora. “Yes, you’re warm.” I hand him the glass of water with a straw. “I’ll go grab you some Advil, okay?”

He groans, then sighs, softly. “Do you have any of that liquid stuff. If I try to swallow anything solid right now, I’ll probably upchuck.”

I inhale slowly before responding, needing a moment to maintain my composure and brace myself for this continuing situation I’m in. “Logan, this is making me crazy. Why do I feel like we’re on two different playing fields? Does that make any sense to you? It seems like you have some kind of advantage or insight into my life and yet, I’m totally in the dark about yours.” I already know I’m not getting anywhere with my questions, but I have a right to know what kind of person he has me pegged as. “Plus, five minutes ago, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now you’re drilling me about perfectionism one-second, and then needing child’s cold medicine—enough to fill a man’s grown body—the next. Give me something to go on here, will you? Maybe a reason to put up with this shit? When I was sick, and you were taking care of me, I don’t think I returned the favor by acting rude and ungrateful.”

Logan stares past me toward the window with a hazy look in his eyes like he’s pondering the meaning of life, or possibly just trying to ward off another round of nausea.

“Let’s just say, I’m not perfect.”

“And?” That doesn’t clarify anything. “What’s that have to do with the way you’re acting?” These riddles and clues aren’t bringing me to any logical or decent explanations. It’s something south of the border. That’s about all I can figure.

“Never mind.”

“Okay, let’s start with something easier.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and place my hand gently on his chest. “Why did you want to leave after I told you Rick was downstairs?”

Still no effort to make eye contact, but he looks like he’s about to say something, I think.

His arm lowers to his stomach and his lip curls. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“Nope. No, Logan, you’re not going to die.”

“Mom, I need you!” Cora is shouting for me from downstairs. I can only imagine what’s going on down there now.

“Don’t leave,” Logan says pleadingly.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t handle two sick men at once. What is it? Spit it out.”

Why did I say that? At a time like this, no one in their right mind would say spit it out to a sick person who’s lying on freshly cleaned sheets.

He certainly spits it out, though. All over those clean sheets.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters.

I pull the blanket off and roll it into a ball before tossing it to the ground. “He said he doesn’t want me anywhere near you,” Logan confesses as I’m grabbing a spare blanket from the closet.

“Rick said that?” I’m not surprised. He didn’t want the divorce. He just wanted to cheat on me. I think it’s called having your cake and eating it too. Yeah, Rick thought the too was spelled two. Being an asshole is one thing. Sleeping with another woman is a no-no in my book. Rick did everything in his power to stop the divorce proceedings, so it took an extra-long time, making everything harder than necessary. Then he moved next door in hopes of making me feel jealous and crazy as he moved Tiana in with him. It hurt like hell—that’s the worst part. Even when he was an asshole, I still loved him. I loved him, but I’m not stupid. “He hurt me every single day for years, and he still thinks there’s a chance for us. I told him it will never happen. It’s the truth, Logan.”

“I have no right getting involved,” he says. “We just met, and you have a history with him and a little girl.”

“And you don’t have any history or baggage?” I counter.

“Oh, I do, but my ex-wife doesn’t live next door to me. She lives in another state now.”

“I can’t control the fact that Rick moved in next door to me. What am I supposed to do, Logan? Uproot my daughter so I can secure a second chance at love? She’s the most important thing to me, and everyone else will always come second. It’s a fact of my life—a fact anyone will have to deal with if they’re with me. We did just meet, so I won’t be offended if whatever interest you had in me has vanished. It happens.” I offer a smile because what else can I do? This is my life. I made my bed, and I will lie in it … just not right now.

He nods his head and wipes at his mouth, making sure it’s clean from the latest spewing episode. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have brought up any of that. It’s none of my business, and you’re right about Cora.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have a chance, even if I am your boss, and it’s totally inappropriate.”