The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 39: Logan’s Outburst

Chapter 39: Logan’s Outburst

"No," Logan said, his grip steady, his jaw clenched. "I’ve let you walk all over me enough. I’ve held back for days, trying to be the bigger person, trying to be kind. But you... you throw it all back in my face."

"I didn’t ask you to jump in the ocean," she shouted.

"No, you didn’t," he spat back. "But I did it anyway. Because despite everything, I thought you were worth it. I thought... maybe you’d change."

He leaned in close, eyes burning into hers. "But you’re still the same, aren’t you? Cold. Arrogant. Ungrateful."

Jean turned her face, but Logan’s hand caught her jaw, gently but firmly making her face him.

"I’m not leaving," he said, low and dangerous. "Not until you say it."

Jean’s throat tightened, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. She was trembling... not from fear, but from the force of everything between them, everything unspoken, buried, and now crashing into the surface.

He held her gaze, refusing to back down. "Say it, Jean."

She blinked, emotions twisting violently inside her, her pride and her pain at war.

Jean’s body stiffened as Logan’s grip burned into her arms. Her eyes met his, defiant but haunted. "You want an apology?" she snapped, trying to pull away. "Fine."

His grip tightened slightly... not to hurt, but to keep her from running away again, like she always did when things got too close.

"I’m sorry," she bit out. "I’m sorry you couldn’t handle rejection. I’m sorry you still carry a grudge after all these years. I’m sorry you think I owe you something because you saved me."

Logan’s jaw clenched. "That’s not an apology, Jean."

"No?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly despite her efforts. "Then that’s all I’ve got."

She yanked herself free, stepping back. Her arms wrapped around herself as if to shield the vulnerable part of her she never let anyone see. "I don’t owe you an explanation, Logan. And I’m not giving you one."

He stared at her... at the stubborn tilt of her chin, at the way her voice trembled despite her steel. He didn’t understand her, but he recognized pain when he saw it.

For a long second, neither of them spoke. The night wind howled outside their shelter, but in that moment, the silence between them was louder.

Logan’s chest heaved with the force of his anger. He looked at her really looked and something in his expression broke. Not softened. Just... cracked.

"Fine," he said coldly. "Starting tomorrow, we survive on our own. Don’t talk to me, don’t follow me, and don’t expect anything from me."

Jean’s breath hitched.

Logan continued, "I don’t care if you find food. I don’t care if you freeze. And I definitely don’t care if you die out here."

Each word stabbed like ice, more cutting than a blade. He didn’t even wait for her reply. With a final glare, he lay down on the edge of their shelter, back turned to her, dragging the coat with him.

Jean stood frozen, eyes fixed on him as his breathing slowly evened into sleep.

But she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t sleep.

Her heart raced and her limbs felt like ice. Not from the cold but from the hollowness his words left behind.

She had nothing to say.

She just sat there, knees tucked to her chest, watching the shadows flicker from what little flame remained. The silence was deafening. For the first time since they crashed, she realized she might actually be alone even with him right beside her.

______________________________

The morning sun rose over the horizon, casting a golden hue across the stretch of sand and rustling palms. Logan stirred from sleep, the cold from the night still lingering on his skin, but this time... it wasn’t just the air that felt empty.

She was gone.

He blinked, expecting to see her curled up somewhere nearby, arms folded stubbornly across her chest like always. But her spot was vacant. No footsteps around the fire. No snarky remark. No annoyed glance.

Logan sat up slowly, brushing the sand from his arms.

Good, he told himself. She listened for once. Maybe she finally understood.

He got up and headed toward the stream with his makeshift spear. The cool water rushed past his feet, grounding him in routine. He caught a fish quickly. Then another. Just like yesterday. His movements were sharp, practiced.

Almost mechanical.

Back at the camp, he roasted the fish over the fire he built by himself. The aroma filled the air... smoky and rich. But as he set the second fish down beside the first, a knot formed in his chest.

She wasn’t there.

And that fish?

It wasn’t meant for him.

He stared at it... at the meal he swore he wouldn’t care to make. But there it was, sizzling over the flame, waiting for someone who hadn’t shown up.

His throat tightened as he tried to chew. It tasted like ash.

Damn it, Adams...

He stood, scanning the beach, eyes narrowing at the long stretch of sand meeting the jungle.

Nothing.

"Where the hell are you?" he muttered under his breath, concern threading through the cold shell of anger he’d wrapped around himself.

He didn’t want to care. He shouldn’t care.

But he did.

And now... she is gone.

The distant roar of a helicopter thundered through the sky.

Logan’s heart leapt.

He jumped to his feet, hands flying in the air as he waved frantically. "Hey! Down here!" he shouted with all the strength in his lungs. "We’re alive! Down here!"

But the chopper kept moving... drifting farther away, as if their desperate signal didn’t even exist.

"No, no, no... dammit!" he growled, watching helplessly as the aircraft disappeared beyond the clouds.

His pulse pounded in his ears. His breath was uneven, sharp.

Why didn’t they see it? We made the signal! We made it big enough!

Without wasting a second, Logan turned and sprinted toward the high clearing where they’d built the help signal. Each step was laced with anger, fear... and guilt. Maybe it was ruined. Maybe that’s why no one stopped.

And then... he saw her.

Jean was kneeling in the middle of the signal they had worked so hard to create. Large palm branches, and broken sticks were scattered over the stones and letters they had laid out. Her hands were scratched and raw as she tried to drag a heavy branch off the edge.

She was trying.

Alone.

His stomach twisted.

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