AfterLife

Chapter 14

Connor had left, a silent acknowledgment of Logan's need for solitude. The gym, usually a place of physical exertion and camaraderie, now served as a sanctuary for Logan's shattered heart. He returned to the punching bag, his fists a blur of motion, each blow a desperate attempt to expel the pain that gnawed at his soul. The rhythmic thud of leather against leather echoed through the vast space, a somber counterpoint to the turmoil within him.

He hit the bag with a savage intensity, his knuckles raw and bleeding, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The physical pain was a welcome distraction, a tangible manifestation of the emotional agony that threatened to consume him. He was lost in a haze of fury and grief, each punch a declaration of his shattered trust, a desperate attempt to reclaim some semblance of control.

"You keep punching that bag like that, you'll have no skin left on your hands."

The voice, soft yet firm, snapped Logan back to reality. He turned slightly, his eyes still clouded with emotion, to see Rory leaning against the doorframe, her gaze steady and unwavering. She stood there, a silent observer, her presence a stark contrast to the storm raging within him.

Logan sniffed, quickly wiping away the tears that still threatened to spill. "I train hard," he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

Rory pushed off the doorframe and walked over to the wall, retrieving the first aid kit. She approached Logan, her movements deliberate and gentle, and stopped him from delivering another blow to the bag. Without a word, she gently led him to a nearby bench, her touch feather-light, a soothing balm against his raw skin.

She sat beside him, her focus unwavering as she began to clean his bleeding knuckles. Her touch was soft, smooth, and incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence he had just unleashed. She worked in silence, her presence a comforting stillness in the midst of his inner chaos.

Rory didn't ask what was wrong, didn't pry for details, didn't offer empty platitudes. She simply sat there, tending to his wounds, offering silent support, a quiet understanding that transcended words. Logan felt a sense of peace in her presence, a calmness that settled over him like a warm blanket. There was something about her, something in her quiet strength, that allowed him to let down his guard, to release the emotions he had been desperately trying to suppress.

Finally, Logan broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper. "My girlfriend… cheated on me. With my best friend."

Rory didn't react, didn't offer a gasp of surprise or a word of judgment. She simply continued bandaging his hands, her touch gentle and reassuring. When she was finished, she held his hand for a moment, her gaze fixed on his bandaged knuckles, her silence a comforting presence.

And then the dam within him broke. The words tumbled out, a torrent of raw emotion that he could no longer contain.

"It's not just the betrayal," he confessed, his voice thick with anguish. "It's the pain, the confusion, the feeling that everything I believed in was a lie. I trusted them both, Rory. I trusted them with my life, with my heart. And they… they threw it all away."

He paused, his breath hitching in his throat, the tears welling up again. "I thought I loved her, Rory. I really did. But now… now I'm not so sure. Maybe it was just the situation, the life on The Nautilus. She was everything I thought I should want, everything that made sense. But there was something missing, something… real."

He looked up at Rory, his eyes pleading for understanding. "Do you know what I mean?"

Rory nodded slowly, her gaze filled with compassion. "I think I do, Logan. Sometimes, what we think we want, what we think we should feel, isn't the same as what our hearts truly desire."

Logan felt a wave of relief wash over him, the weight of his confession lifting slightly. He had found someone who understood, someone who didn't judge, someone who simply listened.

"It's just…," he continued, his voice softer now, "I feel like such a fool. I gave her everything, and she… she just threw it all away. And for Chris… my best friend. How could he do this to me?"

Rory squeezed his hand gently, her touch a silent reassurance. "Sometimes, people make mistakes, Logan. They hurt us, they betray us. But that doesn't mean that love isn't real, that trust isn't worth fighting for."

Logan looked at her, his eyes searching hers. "Do you really believe that?"

Rory nodded, her gaze unwavering. "I do. Because even in the darkest of times, even when it seems like all hope is lost, there is always the possibility of redemption, of forgiveness, of love."

Logan felt a spark of hope ignite in the ashes of his broken heart. "Thank you, Rory," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you for listening."

Rory’s eyes softened, and she spoke, her voice carrying a gentle, melodic quality. “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”

Logan blinked, surprised. “Shakespeare?”

Rory nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “He’s a favorite of mine.”

“I’m impressed,” Logan admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t think you’d be into Shakespeare.”

“My favorite play is A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Rory said, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “It’s a story of love, magic, and the fickle nature of the human heart.” She paused, her gaze drifting to the far wall of the gym. “It’s about how love can change, how it can be manipulated, how it can blind us to the truth. And yet, it’s also about the enduring power of true affection.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the tension that had filled the gym slowly dissipating. Logan found himself drawn to Rory's presence, her quiet strength, her unwavering gaze. She was a mystery, a puzzle he was eager to solve. He wanted to know more about her, about her life, about the world she had grown up in.

They talked for a while, their conversation flowing effortlessly from Shakespeare to the stars, from their childhood dreams to the harsh realities of their present. They spoke of their fears, their hopes, their dreams for the future. Logan found himself opening up to Rory in a way he never had before, sharing his deepest thoughts and vulnerabilities.

Rory, in turn, shared glimpses of her own past, her life in the harsh, unforgiving world outside the dam. She spoke of the struggles her people faced, the constant threat of the Sang Shi, the ever-present danger of the savage mutants and radiation storms. She spoke of her father, of Kyno, of the bond that held their community together, of the intricate tapestry of their lives.

As the hours passed, Logan felt a connection forming between them, a bond that transcended their different worlds. He found himself drawn to her strength, her resilience, her unwavering spirit. He saw in her a kindred soul, a fellow survivor, a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness. He thought about how different she was from Angel. He had to wonder if he had been blind, or if he was finally starting to see.

The gym, once a place of pain and anger, had transformed into a sanctuary, a haven where two lost souls found solace in each other's presence. Logan knew that his heart was still broken, that the pain of Angel's betrayal would linger for a long time. But he also knew that he wasn't alone, that he had found a friend, a confidante, a connection that promised to heal his wounds and guide him through the darkness.