#Chapter 145 Do You Even Care?

Logan Dinner is quiet. Too quiet. I cut into the salmon I grilled twenty minutes ago, trying to focus on the meal, on the sound of waves crashing outside the beach house, on anything but the way Emily stares at her plate like it might come to life and answer the questions spinning in her head. She’s barely touched her food, the once hot salmon from the brown bag now cold. I offer a half-smile and lean forward, trying to catch her attention. I clear my throat and she still doesn’t budge. A frown flashes across my face and I am just about to give up when my eyes land on the perfectly cooked salmon in front of me. “You know, I think this might be the first time I’ve ever successfully cooked a meal that didn’t end with the fire alarm going off,” I make the comment with the hope that she will look up at me and end my misery. Nothing. No smile. Not even a fake one. She blinks and looks up at me like she just realized I’m sitting across the table. “Sorry,” she murmurs, looking up