SCARLETT ADDISON
I looked at Logan as he walked toward us. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I felt a slight tremor course through my body. As he approached, everyone stood up to greet him, but I remained seated, unsure of how to react.
"My son, I'm glad you're here," Mr. James said warmly.
"Son, you took a long time," Mrs. Carina added, her voice carrying a hint of concern.
"Sorry for the delay," Logan replied, his tone flat.
"Don't worry, we were all anxiously waiting for you," my father chimed in, extending his hand for a handshake. He then turned to me, his voice firm. "Daughter, come here and speak to your fiancé."
Reluctantly, I rose from the couch and made my way toward Logan. Every step felt like a struggle against the urge to turn and run away. When I finally stood in fr
