“Please, sit,” Logan’s voice came from the doorway. He was dressed for the day in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, looking composed and relaxed, though a serious intensity lingered in his eyes.
“Thank you,” Olivia replied, pulling out a chair for herself as she watched Harper and Hazel eat with a ravenous enthusiasm that twisted her heart.
An awkward silence settled between the two adults during the meal. He knew he had to approach the subject with care, but his determination to uncover the truth was unyielding. Once the girls had eaten their fill, Mrs. Harper gently guided them to a nearby playroom, leaving Olivia and Logan alone at the vast table.
He rested his elbows on the polished wood and looked at her directly. “Olivia, we need to talk. I want to understand what happened to you.”
She averted her gaze, her hands twisting together in her lap. “It’s not a story I enjoy telling.”
“I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help.” Logan paused, carefully selecting his words. “When I saw you yesterday… you and your daughters were in a situation that… well, it doesn’t happen overnight. Tell me what happened, Olivia.”
She drew a shuddering breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment as if to gather her strength before she began to speak.
“After we graduated, I started seeing Jake Miller. You remember him, right? He was the captain of the football team, the most popular guy in school.”
Logan nodded, a muscle in his jaw tightening at the name. He remembered Jake Miller all too well—a charismatic charlatan whom everyone had admired, but who possessed a cruel streak, never hesitating to belittle others to elevate himself.
“Jake and I got serious right after prom,” she continued, her voice low. “I was completely in love with him. I thought he felt the same way. A few months into it, I found out I was pregnant.” Her voice faltered. “When I told him, I thought we would figure it out together. Instead, he just… disappeared. He said he wasn’t ready to be a father, that he didn’t want that kind of responsibility tying him down. That was the last time I ever saw him.”
Logan’s hands clenched into fists beneath the table as he fought to control the surge of white-hot anger that rose within him. “He just left you?”
Olivia nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yes. I was completely alone. My parents helped where they could, but they didn’t have much. I took whatever jobs I could find to provide for the girls, but it was never enough. I lost my last job, and the bills just kept piling up. By the time Harper and Hazel were two, we were evicted from our apartment. Since then… we’ve been on the streets, just trying to survive on whatever kindness people would offer.”
Logan sat in stunned silence, absorbing the bleak narrative. The strong, vivacious Olivia he had known had been systematically broken by life in ways he could scarcely imagine.
“Why didn’t you ever ask anyone for help?” he finally asked, his voice softer now, tinged with sorrow.
“I was ashamed,” Olivia admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I was so ashamed of how my life had turned out. I didn’t want anyone from our past to see me like this. Especially not… someone like you.”
Logan took a deep breath, a complex mixture of compassion and profound sadness washing over him. “Olivia, nobody deserves to go through what you have. You’re not alone anymore. I’m going to help you and your daughters get back on your feet.”
“But why, Logan? Why are you doing all of this for me?”
He hesitated, the truth hovering on his lips. He knew he had to be honest. “Because, despite everything that happened—or didn’t happen—between us back then, I care about you, Olivia. I always have.”
Olivia sat motionless, unable to form a reply. His words hung in the air, echoing in the quiet room as she struggled to comprehend the dizzying turn her life had just taken. Later that night, as Olivia gently tucked her daughters into their warm, safe bed, she replayed Logan’s confession in her mind. For the first time in years, a tiny, fragile spark of hope began to flicker within her. But she also knew that accepting his help was the beginning of a long, arduous journey—one that would require her to confront her deepest fears and rebuild her shattered life from the ground up.
The next morning, as golden sunlight streamed through the penthouse’s massive windows, Olivia awoke to the sound of soft giggles. Harper and Hazel were already awake, playing contentedly on the thick carpet beside her bed. For a disorienting moment, she felt as if she were in a dream. It was difficult to reconcile this peaceful, luxurious reality with the fact that just forty-eight hours prior, she had been huddled on a cold sidewalk, sick with worry about where their next meal would come from. She stretched, the unfamiliar comfort of a good night’s sleep a balm to her weary body, and called the girls to get ready for the day.
A selection of fresh, new clothes had been laid out in the room, thoughtfully chosen by Mrs. Harper. Olivia was touched by the quiet consideration, yet the feeling of being an intruder in this opulent world lingered. When they descended for breakfast, Logan was in the living room, looking over some documents. He glanced up at the sound of the twins’ light footsteps and offered a small, reserved smile.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
Harper nodded enthusiastically, while the more reserved Hazel shyly clutched her mother’s hand.
“Yes, it was the best night’s sleep we’ve had in a very long time,” Olivia answered, her voice imbued with a gratitude that was impossible to hide.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Logan gestured toward the dining area. “You don’t need to worry about a thing today. I want you to simply rest. The girls can play in the garden upstairs or anywhere they like.”
Olivia hesitated, a familiar wave of unease washing over her. “Logan, I… I can’t possibly thank you enough for all of this, but I refuse to take advantage of your generosity. As soon as I can, I’ll find work and…”
Logan held up a hand, gently halting her protest. “There’s no rush, Olivia. First and foremost, you need to heal. Don’t think about timelines or obligations. We’ll figure all of that out together.”
Despite his calming words, Olivia still felt a heavy weight in her chest. Accepting charity was a bitter pill to swallow for a woman who had fought so hard to be self-reliant. However, the well-being of her daughters was paramount, and for their sake, she forced herself to swallow her pride.
After breakfast, Harper and Hazel, under the watchful eye of Mrs. Harper, discovered the rooftop garden and were soon lost in a world of play. Olivia, meanwhile, found herself restlessly helping clear the table, feeling a desperate need to contribute in some small way. Logan discovered her in the kitchen attempting to load the dishwasher and shook his head gently.
“Olivia, you don’t have to do that.”
“I need to do something, Logan. I don’t feel right just taking everything from you without giving anything back.”
Logan sighed, recognizing the stubborn pride he had glimpsed on the street corner. “If it makes you feel better, fine. But for now, I want to talk about the girls. Is there anything they need?”
Olivia paused, her practical mind taking over. “They need… well, everything. Clothes, shoes. What they have is falling apart.”
“Excellent,” he said with an air of finality. “Let’s go shopping and get them what they need.”
Olivia’s eyes widened in alarm. “That’s not necessary, Logan. I can handle that myself later.”
“No arguments,” Logan said, a rare, gentle smile touching his lips. “I’ll have the car brought around.”
Half an hour later, Olivia, Harper, and Hazel found themselves in a high-end children’s boutique in downtown Manhattan, with Logan observing quietly from a short distance. The girls were in paradise, their earlier timidity melting away as they darted between racks of colorful clothing, touching soft fabrics and pointing at shoes.
“Can I really have this, Mommy?” Harper asked, her voice full of awe as she held up a dress that shimmered with blue sequins.
A pang of love and sorrow shot through Olivia’s heart as she looked at her daughter’s bright, hopeful face. “Yes, sweetheart. You can.”
Hazel, always the more reserved of the two, shyly held up a pair of brand-new sneakers with lights that flashed in the heels. “Me too, Mommy?”
