Married First, Loved Later : A Flash Marriage with My Ex's 'Uncle' Chapter 225: She Couldn’t Deny He Was in Her Heart

Logan stared at the woman in front of him like a starving man, afraid she might vanish in the next second.

"I’m not just loitering," he said softly. "I’m here to take you ho."

Without hesitation, Selina replied, "I’m not going back."

Logan’s eyes darkened briefly, then he let out a small, understanding laugh.

"Alright. It’s fine. Stay here and enjoy your ti with Damien."

Selina shot him a sharp look.

"Don’t call him by his first na. You two aren’t close!"

What nerve. Damien was her older brother—what did Logan have to do with him?

Logan’s eyes softened at her spirited expression. A hint of a smile played on his lips as he suddenly pressed a hand to his stomach.

Selina noticed. "What’s wrong?"

His voice was hoarse. "I haven’t eaten all day. My stomach hurts."

She imdiately recalled sothing Miller Butler once said—that Logan had grown up struggling, often without enough to eat, which had left him with a chronic stomach condition.

Stomach pain from hunger... there was plenty of food in the kitchen...

Wait, what was she doing? Feeling sorry for this man? No way.

She pulled out her phone. "I’ll call Jack to co pick you up."

Logan let out a quiet sigh.

"Mrs. Reid, do you think I’m the kind of boss who wakes his employees at 2 a.m.?"

Selina choked. "Don’t call Mrs. Reid!"

Without arguing, Logan took a step back, his tone respectful.

"Okay. Selina. Even if there’s nothing to eat, can I at least co in, sit down, and have a cup of tea before I leave?"

Selina had never seen him this way—brows furrowed, complexion pale—so different from his usual detached deanor.

Was he... really in pain?

Sure, she didn’t want to give him food, but not even a cup of hot water? That sounded cruel. What if soone saw? They’d say Mr. Brown’s house was so poor they couldn’t even afford to boil water...

With a sharp sigh, she muttered, "Fine. Co in. Rest a bit and then leave."

Logan followed her inside without missing a beat.

In the living room, she kept the lights dim so she wouldn’t wake Damien.

"You wait here. I’ll get you so water—Hey, what are you doing?"

Just as she turned to leave, Logan grabbed her wrist. "I’ll get it myself."

Selina narrowed her eyes. "You sure you’re really in pain? I’ve never seen soone with a stomachache walk that fast."

He raised an eyebrow calmly.

"Selina, I just didn’t want to trouble you. It’s the middle of the night, and you shouldn’t have to take care of a sick man like ."

She almost stamred, almost lost her temper.

"If you hadn’t stood outside in the cold all night, you wouldn’t be sick, and I wouldn’t have to take care of you."

Logan paused and then murmured,

"But what can I do? I just wanted to see you."

Thump.

Thump.

Selina could hear her heart pounding in her chest. The world seed to fall silent.

She almost softened.

But no—Logan and Angelica’s situation was still unresolved. That was a ticking ti bomb. And Angelica had even texted Logan about divorce...

Selina’s softened expression quickly turned cold again.

"There’s steak in the fridge. If you’re hungry, cook it yourself. I’m going to bed."

Logan gave her a gentle nod. "Alright. Rest well."

Selina: "..."

What was that? She was the one saying she’d go rest, but when Logan said it, it felt like she was being dismissed.

Weird. She never used to overthink stuff like this.

...It’s Logan’s fault for interrupting her sleep. That’s it. She’s just cranky from being tired. Absolutely nothing else.

After Selina left, Logan headed into the kitchen.

Not long after, the sizzle of the stove quieted, and two steaks were plated.

He carried the plates upstairs and gently knocked on Selina’s bedroom door.

Selina was lying in bed, forcing herself to sleep—but every ti she shut her eyes, her mind would wander back to Logan.

What was he doing downstairs? Had he finished cooking the steak?

Had he eaten yet? If he had, wouldn’t he leave now?

Why hadn’t she heard the door open?

Had he left or not?

Thoughts tangled in her head like a never-ending loop, and sleep was impossible.

The more she thought, the more irritated she beca—until suddenly, a knock at the door broke the silence.

"Who is it? What do you want!"

A familiar voice replied, gentle and warm, "Selina, want so steak?"

The room went quiet for a beat. Selina’s brain nearly crashed.

Wait a second... that voice—Logan?!

She yanked open the door. Logan stood there with a soft expression, looking gentle and harmless.

"I made two servings."

Selina stared at him blankly. "I don’t want it."

Like one steak could win her over? Dream on.

Logan chuckled. "Hmm? Then what would Selina like to eat?"

She froze.

Did he not get it? She was rejecting him. Clearly.

But Logan spoke softly, coaxingly, "It’s just a steak, don’t overthink it. Whether you eat or not, I won’t ask for anything in return. I’ll just leave it here for you, alright?"

And he really did—setting it down without any intention of eating with her upstairs.

Selina stared at his retreating back, torn.

She knew married couples should talk things through when sothing was wrong...

But how was she supposed to start?

Were those text ssages real? Was Angelica really that important?

If it ca down to his savior or his wife—who would he choose?

There were no easy answers.

Halfway down the hall, Logan suddenly turned back.

"Selina," he said, "no matter what happens... please believe in how I feel about you."

Her heart skipped.

Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out: "You said taking Angelica to the hot springs resort was her final request... Now that both conditions are fulfilled... does that an you’ll never see her again?"

She regretted it the mont she spoke.

What was she thinking? Angelica had just saved his life—again.

"Yes. I won’t see her again."

Selina’s eyes widened.

Logan continued calmly, "Mrs. Reid, if there’s anything you want, just ask. I’m your husband. You’re not a stranger to ."

Her heart pounded louder, faster.

She could barely contain it.

Biting her lip, she masked the storm inside with a blank expression—then slamd the door shut.

"Oh. I’m going to sleep."