Layla endured Thanksgiving dinner with her family. Everyone stuck to the approved topics she’d sent out, even her father. He didn’t ask any more questions. In fact, he hardly spoke at all before disappearing down the hall again.
Her mother brought out three pies once dinner had settled. “Chocolate, pumpkin, and pecan,” she announced, proudly beaming down at the baked goods. “Who wants what?”
Logan took chocolate, the way Layla knew he would. She chose pecan, and he gave her a curious look but said nothing. They ate their pie on the balcony with Alice and Vanessa, who had been good-natured and supportive through everything.
But Layla wasn’t sorry to leave Boston in her rear-view mirror. Logan didn’t seem to be either. She didn’t apologize again. He’d just say, “It’s fine,” again and she’
