His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 190: Mom is that you?

Chapter 190-Mom is that you?

LOGAN’S POV

And for the first time, we were kissing each other at the same time—not in shock, not by accident, but because we both wanted to.

We’ve kissed before. Once. Maybe twice. But this one?

This one was different.

This kiss was full of fire and softness. Slow, deep, careful—but also desperate like we both knew we didn’t have much time.

Tyler’s lips were so soft. So warm. So sweet.

They moved like they already knew how to handle mine. Like they had been made to fit perfectly with mine. Every movement of his mouth answered mine, like a question and a reply in a language only we understood.

His lips pressed against mine like a soft addiction—gentle but firm, tasting like a secret I wasn’t supposed to know.

I swear, it felt like my heart wasn’t even beating the normal way anymore. It was faster. Louder. Confused. My head was spinning and my whole body felt like it wasn’t even mine again.

I couldn’t feel the floor under my feet.

Time didn’t exist in that moment. It felt like we were floating somewhere only the two of us existed.

And when we finally pulled away, it was like falling back into reality.

Both our lips were red and swollen.

We were breathing fast, eyes locked like we were afraid to look away first.

He was still in my arms, chest rising and falling like mine. I could feel his breath on my neck. It was hot. Shaky.

I gently raised him off my chest so he could stand properly, and he stepped back slowly, looking at me with eyes I couldn’t read. Maybe he couldn’t read mine either.

I turned away from him and walked over to where I kept my bag.

I picked it up without saying a word at first.

I knew he was waiting for an answer. I knew he wanted me to say I would stay.

But I had already made up my mind.

I took a deep breath.

"I know you’ve been waiting for my answer, Tyler..." I said, finally turning to face him.

His eyes searched mine like he still had a little hope left in him.

"My answer is... I’m still leaving."

His lips parted, but nothing came out. His shoulders dropped a little.

"It’s for my own good," I continued, my voice a little shakier than I wanted it to be. "This house... this place... it’s not safe for me anymore."

I looked directly into his eyes. He didn’t look away.

"My dad may act like he supports me. He may have smiled and nodded and said the right things in your presence... but I know that man. When we’re alone, I don’t know what he’s going to do. What he’s capable of. I can’t wait around and find out."

I paused and took a step forward, then smiled—just a small one, filled with sadness and maybe a little love too.

"So yeah... I’m leaving. I have to go to where I feel safe."

Tyler didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, lips parted like he wanted to speak, but couldn’t find the words.

I sighed.

"By the way, Tyler... that kiss?"

I smiled again, this time a little brighter.

"That kiss was one of the best kisses I’ve ever had. No joke. Your lips are... sweet. Soft. Addictive."

His cheeks turned red.

"I’m going to miss kissing you. But right now, I need to put myself first. I need to think about my own safety. My peace."

I adjusted my bag over my shoulder and looked at him one last time.

"See you in the nearest future," I said. "I won’t forget you in a hurry, Tyler. And who knows... maybe we’ll continue from where we stopped—when we meet again."

He still didn’t say a word. He just stood there, staring.

I couldn’t really blame him, though.

I mean... after everything he said—after he begged me to stay, apologized, kissed me, poured his heart out—here I was still choosing to leave.

He probably thought I had listened... thought I had changed my mind.

But I didn’t.

Because sometimes, love isn’t enough. Sometimes, survival has to come first.

If I were him, I wouldn’t be happy either.

I had just kissed him and told him how amazing it felt—only to still choose to walk away. Anyone would be confused. Maybe even hurt.

But I had already made my decision.

I walked out through the door without looking back. I closed it slowly behind me, leaving him inside—alone.

I paused for a second, letting out a shaky breath.

I didn’t cry.

I walked down the hallway toward the living room, dragging my bag behind me. My heart was still racing.

When I entered the living room, the first thing I saw was my father pacing the floor like a mad man. His hands were on his head, and he kept muttering something under his breath. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

The moment he saw me, he rushed straight at me—like he had been waiting the whole time.

"Logan!" he shouted, almost falling to his knees. "Please don’t go. I’m begging you, son—don’t do this."

I didn’t answer him immediately.

He grabbed my hand and held on like he was scared I would disappear any second.

"Logan, please. I’m not speaking to you as your father right now," he said, voice shaking. "I’m begging you as a friend. As someone who has no one else in this world. You’re all I’ve got. Please don’t leave me."

His eyes were glossy. Red. Tired.

For a second... just a small second, I almost broke.

But I didn’t.

I shook my head slowly and looked straight into his eyes.

"If everything you’re saying right now is true, Dad... if you’ve truly changed, which I still find hard to believe..." I paused, "I still want to leave."

His face dropped, and his grip on my hand loosened.

"I’m not cutting you off completely," I told him. "We can still talk. You’ll still be my dad. You’ll still be the only friend I’ve ever had... but we’ll only be close from a distance."

He blinked at me, confused.

"A distance that makes me feel safe," I added. "A distance where I can breathe without fear."

"Logan," he said in a whisper, voice cracking. "I won’t survive this. I swear, if you walk out that door, I won’t make it."

I placed my hand on his shoulder, looked at him gently, and said, "Dad... you’re stronger than you think. You’ve survived worse. You’ll survive this too. Please don’t say that."

I was trying to be strong, but inside, everything felt like it was ripping apart. I didn’t want to say these things. I didn’t want to walk away. But I had to.

Because if I didn’t, I’d lose myself.

I took a step back, picked up my bag, and was about to head to the front door when—

BANG!

The door burst open.

There was no knock.

I jumped slightly, confused and alert. My dad turned quickly too.

A woman stepped in, holding the hand of a young girl who looked like she was maybe thirteen or fourteen. She was younger than me, for sure.

She looked directly at me—like she knew me. Like she had been searching for me.

My first reaction?

Anger.

"Who the hell is this, and why didn’t she knock?" I snapped, my voice a mix of stress and shock.

But then I looked at her again.

Her face.

It was so familiar. Too familiar.

Something about her eyes... the shape of her lips... the curve of her face...

I kept staring at her, trying to remember. My mind was digging through old memories I had buried years ago.

And then—just like that—it hit me.

My chest tightened.

My throat went dry.

My fingers started shaking.

I whispered, not even realizing the words had escaped my lips—

"Mom? Is that... you?"