Natasha stood frozen in the doorway of the jazz club, the saxophone’s sultry wail blurring into white noise as she watched Logan kiss Brenda like their years of marriage meant nothing. When he turned, there was no guilt in his eyes, only irritation. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t beg. He simply told her it was over and that she needed to be out of *his* house by the end of the week. The cruelty was so casual it almost felt rehearsed.
But the night took a sharp turn when Mr. Duncan arrived, having followed Logan there after growing suspicious. The old man’s fury was quiet but devastating. In front of everyone, he stripped Logan of the life he’d been handed and handed it, instead, to Natasha: the house, financial support, and a chance at IVF. When Logan later showed up at the door, suddenly penitent and broke, Natasha finally understood her own worth. She listened, then closed the door gently, choosing her future over his excuses.
