His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 202: I Am Not Okay

Chapter 202- I Am Not Okay

LOGAN’S POV

His phone was ruined.

That night in the rain—he told me it got soaked. He said it wasn’t turning on. I remembered how wet he was, how he looked like a wreck. That phone probably didn’t survive.

My whole body tensed as I stood up quickly. I ran my hand through my hair, gripping it tightly like I was about to pull it all out. My chest was rising and falling so fast I could barely keep up with my own breathing.

"Logan, be strong," I whispered to myself. "Don’t break down. He’s not even your boyfriend. You guys aren’t dating. You don’t need to act like this."

But I wasn’t buying my own words.

Because what we shared...

What we had...

It was more real than anything I’ve had with anyone I ever dated.

We connected in a way I’ve never felt before.

Even when we had that intimate moment, it was like a moment I have never had with any of else.

It was the best moment ever.

He kissed me like I was the only one he wanted.

He looked me in the eye and begged me not to leave.

He held onto me like I was the only thing keeping him sane.

So no—I couldn’t act like it meant nothing.

Because it meant everything.

"Fuckkkk," I growled, my voice raw and shaking.

My mind played it all back.

That night. That kiss. That damn party.

His lips on mine.

His breath against my neck.

His voice cracking when he begged me to stay.

His anger when I told when he told me that he wasn’t a greedy person.

That he just wanted me to stay because he want me.

Why then is he leaving now?

Why then did he even leave without telling me

Now who is the greedy person?

I the way I kissed him outside that party like the world would end right after.

I remembered all of it.

And suddenly, without warning—the tears came.

They poured out before I could stop them.

Before I could hide them.

I tried to blink fast. Wipe them quickly. But they kept coming.

With the fire burning in my chest, I grabbed my phone and without thinking—hurled it across the room.

It hit the wall with a loud, violent bang and dropped in pieces.

I didn’t even care.

I wanted something to break.

Because that’s how I felt.

Broken.

"No! No! No! You don’t get to leave me like this!" I cried out loud, my voice cracking with pain.

"You don’t get to make me fall for you and then disappear!"

"You don’t get to kiss me like that and act like it meant nothing!"

I sank to my knees, holding my chest. My heart felt like it was being squeezed from the inside.

I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I couldn’t act like it didn’t hurt.

Because it fucking killed me.

And then—the door flew open.

I flinched.

It was my dad.

He was standing there, breathing heavily like he’d rushed over. His eyes scanned the room, trying to make sense of the noise and the silence and me, crouched on the floor like my world had ended.

"Logan?" he called out, his voice firm but filled with concern.

"What’s happening in here?"

I quickly turned away.

Like lightning, I got up and faced my drawer, pretending to pick something up. My back to him. My hands wiping my face so fast it probably looked suspicious. But I didn’t care. I just didn’t want him to see my face. Not like this.

"Nothing, Dad," I said quickly. My voice sounded weird—shaky, small. "Nothing’s happening. I was just... cleaning."

There was a pause. He didn’t believe me. I could feel his eyes on me.

"You scared me, Logan," he said, more calmly now.

"I’m sorry, Dad," I whispered, still not turning around. "I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just trying to do something and—I guess the sound came from that."

I bit down hard on my lower lip.

My voice was already breaking again.

It was soaked in pain.

And it was starting to crack open again.

But I kept my back to him.

I couldn’t let him see me like this.

"But the sound I heard didn’t sound like someone cleaning," Dad said, his voice low but filled with concern. "It sounded like something hit the wall."

I turned around sharply, my face wet, my chest still burning. I wiped my tears quickly—furiously—like I could erase the pain if I wiped fast enough.

"Didn’t you fucking hear me say I was cleaning?" I snapped.

My voice came out louder than I expected. Angry. Broken.

He flinched a little, shocked. He didn’t expect that from me. I saw it in his eyes.

"Logan..." he whispered. "Why are you shouting at me? Did I do something wrong?"

His voice was soft.

But I couldn’t take it.

I couldn’t take anyone right now. Not even him.

"No, you didn’t do anything wrong," I said, gritting my teeth. I lowered my voice, forcing myself to sound calm—even though I wasn’t.

"But please... I need you to leave. Just... leave me alone. I need silence. I already told you—I was cleaning. And I don’t want distractions when I’m doing something important."

I looked him dead in the eyes, trying so hard not to let him see how close I was to breaking again.

"You know how I don’t bother you when you’re working or doing something serious? I’m asking for the same thing right now. Please. Respect that."

My voice cracked slightly near the end, so I quickly turned around—hoping he didn’t notice.

Then I said it softly. Almost like a whisper.

"So could you just leave... now?"

There was a pause. Silence.

Then he sighed.

"Okay," he said finally. "Okay, Logan."

But then came the question I wasn’t ready for.

"Are you sure you’re okay?"

I froze.

I didn’t say a word.

I didn’t even move.

Because if I dared open my mouth, even for a second—I was going to break again.

And I couldn’t let that happen.

Not in front of him.

He waited. Then sighed again.

"It seems like you’re not ready to talk to me," he said quietly. "So... I’ll leave you alone."

The second he turned around and started walking away, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Finally.

I needed him gone.

I needed to cry. Scream. Lose my mind.

Whatever it took to get this pain out of me.

But just as I was about to fall to the ground again—I heard him stop.

My heart dropped.

Why is he stopping?

Then his voice came again. Quiet. But sharper this time.

"Logan..." he said slowly, "why is your phone broken and scattered on the floor?"

I clenched my eyes shut.

No, no, no...

"Was that the sound I heard from the sitting room? Was it your phone?"

He stepped closer. "Why did you break it? Logan, are you really okay?"

That was it.

That question.

The way he said my name.

The way he looked at me like he knew I was falling apart.

Like he saw straight through me.

I turned around slowly—my face already soaked. My lips trembling.

And then—the tears came like a flood.

Big, hot, heavy tears.

I couldn’t stop them this time.

I looked him straight in the eye, and I said the only truth I could manage.

"No, Dad..." I whispered. My voice breaking, shattering.

"No, I’m not okay. I feel like dying."